Messy Cars and Muddy Shoes

Driving Lessons

2012-02-01T00:55:00.000-06:00

Hopefully I'm not the only one with ~~phobias~~ quirks. I'd like to think there are other people paranoid of severe thunderstorms who can't leave the house without checking to make sure the stove is off.

I have an entrenched fear of sliding in a car. Perhaps it's because I grew up in California and never had to drive on snow or ice. Perhaps it was getting hit by a drunk driver in a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere three decades ago.

Perhaps it was twelve years ago not knowing that I shouldn't use cruise control when the roads are icy and hitting a patch of ice and sliding across the road into the ditch and needing my neighbor to pull me out.

Over the years Keith tried teaching me the basics of winter driving but I wasn't a good student. One slide and my adrenaline spikes, my hands grip the steering wheel, and my heart races.

If you're ever driving on a bad weather night and come up behind a car going 30 miles per hour, that would be me.

Two years ago I blogged about getting our young friend's car stuck in the snow. This is the same friend we dressed up like a candy cane and who broke Christina's nose last spring.

The subject came up recently and he said that all I needed to do to get unstuck was put the car in reverse, crank the wheel, and step on the gas. I'm real visual and couldn't figure out from his description what he meant.

Two weeks ago the subject came up again and I asked for a demonstration. 11:00 at night and we went out in front of our house and he spun his car around a few times. I wasn't scared because it was his car and he seemed to know what he was doing.

He asked if I wanted to try.

Ummm...NO. But not wanting to appear chicken, I asked more questions about what to do when you're sliding around.

He finally said the best way to learn is to spin donuts.

I did mention that I don't like to slide around, right?

I finally decided that I'm not getting any younger and if someone is willing to let me experiment in their car, maybe I should try. I asked if I needed my Drivers License. He said he didn't think so.

We went to an empty parking lot and he showed me what to do. Then it was my turn.

Oh boy. I made sure to have the seatbelt on, put the car in reverse, cranked the wheel, and stepped on the gas.

Oh my goodness. 52 years old and I had just spun my first donut. I have to admit it was kind of fun so I did a few more. I mentioned to our young friend that he might feel funny if someone asked what he did on Friday night and he said that he was teaching his Pastor's wife how to spin donuts.

I'd like to say I'm cured of being afraid, but I can only say I'm better. When I turned into our church parking lot the other day our big faithful red van slid and I didn't feel that spike of fear. The girls were shocked when I smiled. They asked if I did it on purpose and I said of course not.

So last Saturday we were invited to a birthday dinner. I was a bit apprehensive about the icy hill I needed to drive up. I swallowed my fears and plunged ahead and did my best but couldn't make it all the way up. I got about 15 feet from the top and that was all she wrote.

That meant I had to back down the icy hill. Thankfully my recent driving lessons helped me not to panic.

Not even when the van slid sideways towards the ditch. The van swung around and came to stop. At that point I realized that I'd much rather go down the hill forward than in reverse. So we drove down the hill and went a long, circuitous route to go around the hill.

This may not seem like to much to some people, but if this had been a race, I had just run my personal best. I had slipped and slided and whipped around on a icy hill, nearly missing a ditch and had not panicked.

I was nervous going back down the hill two hours later, but not as bad as I normally would get. I tried to inch down the hill but gained momentum and couldn't have stopped if I had wanted to. Thankfully no other cars were on the road. I finally stopped near the bottom and the main roads were fine.

The moral of the story is you can teach an old dog new tricks and make sure your Pastor's wife knows how to spin donuts so she won't be afraid to slide backwards down icy hills.

Who da thunk?

2012-01-22T22:57:00.000-06:00

January 22 is:

Sanctity of Human Life Sunday
National Blonde Brownie Day - I kid you not
My late Father-in-law's birthday

And last but not least: The 30th anniversary of our first date

I'm glad I didn't know Keith in his purple plaid polyester suit wearing days.

He had improved considerably by the time I met him.

Keith and I started dating January 22, 1982. You can read the nitty gritty details here. We didn't hit it off well at first. I thought he was a nerd. He thought I was ditzy. He was pretty rigid and I was hopelessly fluid. I noticed his gray flowered shirt and assumed his Mother bought his clothes.

I know better now. He picks out his own clothes and loves flowered prints. When he preaches Sunday mornings, I look at him and marvel. One Sunday he's in a suit coat, the next he wears an ugly sweater. Sometimes he shows up in a dress shirt and tie, or a sweater vest, or an Hawaiian shirt.

I think he closes his eyes and reaches into the closet and wears whatever his hand lands on.

I rest my case.

Anyway, back then I also noticed his eyes. Later when we were dating I told him I liked his blue eyes. He claimed they were green and we argued for years over their color.

We now have a blue-eyed daughter and a green-eyed son.

An early memory is a spur-of-the-moment evening drive to Red Rocks Amphitheater in Morrison, Colorado. Before seat belt laws, a bunch of our college friends crammed into a suburban. Keith, another guy, and I squished into the space behind the back seat.

A smidge awkward since I didn't know either guy. The guy on the right had a girlfriend and wasn't interested in small talk. Keith, on the left, being the poster child for Serious Students Inc. wouldn't talk either. I made sure to grab a different seat on the way home.

We started being friends on a double-date. Keith asked my friend to our Fall Banquet and his friend asked me.

A month later, when he heard I didn't have enough money to attend a Josh McDowell conference, paid my way. We still rarely talked at this point so he was just being nice.

At Christmas, home-bound students crammed into a fellow student's car to ride to the airport--his destination Iowa, mine California. Bad weather cancelled flights and we spent the night in the airport, him on one concourse, me on another. If we'd only known then that we'd get married three years later we could have visited and got better acquainted.

As I mentioned before he was a serious guy. Serious about his faith and his studies. Focused, intense, and very responsible. Though he was older, I was a year ahead in school.

Somewhere in the spring of 1981 he must have realized there was more to me than the ditzy person he thought me to be. We played games in the student union with friends and every so often would end up talking afterwards. Once he even walked me to my dorm.

Then one day he asked me to pray with him. We walked up to this pretty spot on campus and prayed together. Something happened that day but I didn't understand what. I wasn't interested in him but looking back I know that our hearts had started to knit together.

We played many games of Rook and Dutch Blitz with friends and he started to loosen up. At the school year's end, he happened to be walking into the Spring Banquet the same time as me and two friends so he sat at our table and hung out with us the rest of the evening.

My friends had the bright idea of staying up the whole night. Keith had never done this before or since and knowing him now, I'm surprised he agreed. We even toilet papered a friend's house which was another first and only for him.

My first "Whoa Nellie" moment came after we'd known each other a whole school year, getting acquainted in small increments. One night I asked him for a ride to my friend's house. I explained where I needed to go and asked if that was on his way. He said it was, which was a bold-faced lie. I later learned it was an hour drive both ways.

At the risk of sounding corny, it was an enchanted evening. We had a good conversation and when we got to my friend's house no one was there. We played backgammon while we waited. I remember being drawn to him but feeling confused because up until that point I had never been interested in him. I looked at him, noticing again his blue eyes, and wondered if he affected everyone that way or was it only me.

Before we left for the summer, me to California, he to a summer missions' trip to England, he stopped by my dorm to give me two take-your-faith seriously books.

He sent two postcards from England but except for the backgammon night nothing really had sparked between us. Just a friendship for which I was thankful. He was a neat guy and I had learned a lot from him.

School started in the fall and I was a junior and he was a sophomore. I expected to pick up where we left off but something had changed. No games, no jokes, no conversations. He sat in front of me in a class for half the semester and didn't talk to me.

In November, a switch went off and he started talking to me again. And they say girls are hard to figure out! Gradually we started talking more. A friend asked if I liked Keith as it seemed like we got along well. I assured her that wasn't the case, stating that we were just friends.

So on January 22, 1982, after a year and a half of being friends, when he finally stammered out that he was interested in me I was truly in shock. I had honestly thought we were just friends, but as soon as he spoke up I immediately knew that I wanted to be more than friends.

I'm historically an indecisive person. I agonize over decisions and make long convoluted pro and con lists. This was one of the few times in my life when I didn't hesitate. I thought about what I knew of him, his responsible, steady, stable character and without a doubt instantly knew that if he was offering I wanted to go along for the ride.

God knew at that point, but we sure didn't, that we had just begun a 30 year journey. I'm glad we were friends for so long as that allowed us to get to know each other without the pressure of being romantically involved.

So thankful for 27 years of being married to my best friend.

Happy Anniversary to us!

Nesting

2012-01-17T23:22:00.000-06:00

It's nice to have all the chicks home in the nest at the same time. I wanted to share a few pictures from Andrew and Rachel's holiday visit.

This didn't turn out quite how I wanted it.

(Be warned girls, I want a redo)

My favorite people

(most of the time)

#4 and #7

#3, #4, and #6

We've Got Rhythm

2012-01-12T01:13:00.001-06:00

The Occasion: The funeral of a sweet 86-year-old lady from our church. Strong in faith and character, Harriet blessed all who knew her. Her funeral was a beautiful celebration. She loved and was loved by many.

The Place: Our church has a simple floor plan. A big room doubles as sanctuary and fellowship hall, which only poses a problem the few times a year we need both on the same day.

The Music: Peaceful atmosphere and beautiful flowers. Displayed pictures, shared stories, and shed tears. Harriet’s physical family derives comfort from each other. So does her church family. We loved this gentle feisty (yes, it’s possible to be both) lady, and our love language today is service and food.

The Dance: Both fascinating and complex. No one leads yet everyone knows what to do. The spirit of cooperation is a wonder to behold.

Worker bees quickly remove hymnals and Bibles from under chairs and stack them in a side room.

Many hands make light work and chairs are pushed to the side so long rows of white church tables can be set up. A team of apron-wearing ladies efficiently slap down tablecloths in short order. Like a giant Transformer toy, in ten minutes the room morphs from sanctuary to fellowship hall.

The dance pauses as we break for food. A long food table groans under our congregation’s offering. Somehow this feast unites Harriet’s two families as we grieve and rejoice.

Not sure how we know it’s time, but at some point the dance resumes. Someone refills coffee cups. Some else collects garbage. A lot of someones clear tables, bag up and disperse leftovers. Someone does dishes. Someone else takes dirty tablecloths home to wash.

Tables are put back into storage. Chairs are moved back. The carpet gets vacuumed. We once more change from eating hall mode back to church mode.

I am fascinated by a Godly woman who lived well and died well. I’m also fascinated by a group of people, united by their love for God and love and respect for Harriet who cheerfully did an amazing amount of work in a short period of time.

While we close a chapter of our church family’s story, Harriet is just beginning a new chapter of hers.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His godly ones.

--Psalm 116:15-- (NASB)

Oh My Goodness

2012-01-10T11:21:00.000-06:00

When I let Anna and Amy go to a retreat over New Year's weekend at their brother's camp I thought they'd do normal camp things like eat and play games.

Certainly not this.

Nowhere do I remember seeing Polar Plunge on the brochure.

Some polar plunges are done to raise money for a good cause.

This was done just for "fun."

Why do rational people do irrational things?

Amy claims the Iowa water was only as cold as Lake Superior in October.

And why, when everyone else jumped in from the platform, does my son have to jump from high above?

He should know these kinds of things make his Mama nervous,

And posting pictures on Facebook makes it much easier

for a Mother to have eyes in the back of her head.

DIY - Marshmallow Shooter

2012-01-05T13:28:00.000-06:00

Great idea I found on Pinterest for the snipers in your house. Safer than BB guns. Funner than spitwads. Cleaner than paint ball.

A full tutorial can be found by clicking here.

I made this for a white elephant gift exchange last month and it quickly became a coveted item. After seeing how well it was received, I restocked and made two more. It's best to make these in quantities of two so as to better facilitate duels.

The tutorial said she made hers for $2.50. Maybe PVC pipe costs more this far north, but mine cost $4.50. But still well worth it.

I'm cleaning the icky-sticky price tags off.

(only necessary if you're OCD)

Armed and Dangerous

Extremely easy to make and seriously fun. I promise.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2012-01-02T02:50:00.001-06:00

I tell my kids that one of the benefits of getting older is that I don't care near as much what people think about me as I did when I was younger. But I had an acute attack of insecurity last week and may not be totally over it.

When invited to a birthday dinner recently, I offered to bring something. Since we would bring 10 people to the party I wanted to contribute to the meal.

I was assigned dessert. Aack!!! Double aack! I don't make good desserts. I can make bread in my sleep. My salads aren't too shabby. I'm a whiz with white sauce and Mexican food is my middle name, but desserts are hit and miss for me.

Procrastination didn't help matters. Who knew that waiting until the last minute was a bad idea?

My daughter-in-law Rachel suggested her tasty caramel brownie dessert recipe. My taste buds smiled in memory. Oh yes, quite tasty. Surely the ticket to impress people and be a suitable birthday dessert.

Trouble is I didn't have the necessary ingredients and procrastinating had used up the time margin so there wasn't time for a trip to a store.

I'm not sure where things went wrong.

Perhaps it was substituting the ingredients for a homemade german chocolate cake for a store bought german chocolate cake mix.

Perhaps it was trusting Google for a suitable replacement for evaporated milk.

Perhaps it was not wanting to spend $7.00 for two bags of caramels and deciding to use one bag and leftover caramel ice cream topping.

Perhaps it was substituting ingredients, doubling the recipe, and using two different size pans so the cooking times weren't the same.

Perhaps it was wanting to dribble white chocolate artistically in thin graceful stripes across the brownies, and then when the white chocolate held tenanciously to the spoon and refused to drip, electing to just spread the white glop like frosting. Only it didn't look like frosting. The dessert got uglier by the minute.

Perhaps it was when I had a panic attack, knowing we were already late and would be showing up with the world's ugliest birthday dessert I tried one last ditch effort and sprinkled red and green Christmas sprinkles on top. So just in case you ever need to know, Christmas sprinkles won't disguise ugly. For sure it didn't have eye appeal.

Perhaps it was the sleeve of Keith's jacket that dragged through the ugly mess on the ride over.

Perhaps I didn't pray hard enough for the dessert to set up right.

I wish I could show you a picture of just how ugly it was, but I was too traumatized to take a picture.

I begged Keith to stop by our church to ~~snitch~~ borrow the leftover ice cream in the freezer to hopefully camouflage the dessert's shortcomings, only to discover the bucket was one thirds full. I prayed God would miraculously make that stretch for 21 people.

We arrived late (sigh!) and I set the dessert on an a bench on the deck outside, hoping the cold air would firm up the dessert and delay the unveiling a little longer.

I told my friend that the dessert had flopped and she kindly and politely said that she was sure it would taste all right. I didn't hold out much hope.

As people finished their meal, I knew the dreaded moment of truth had come. I whispered to my friend, "It's really ugly. I just can't carry it in with candles and sing Happy Birthday."

She smiled and said, "I'm sure it's not that bad."

I said, "I'm sorry. I'm only 75 % normal." Okay, maybe that's an overestimate. Maybe it's 60% but I was not secure enough to serve my ugly dessert.

I helped wash dishes and she went outside to fetch the bedraggled brownies. She came into the kitchen and whispered, "Did your dessert look like that when you brought it?"

I took one look at the big spot without white chocolate frosting and Christmas sprinkles and immediately knew what had happened. I whispered back, "Was your dog outside?"

She nodded and we both giggled, for now the dessert, if possible, was even uglier than before. We discreetly put the part the dog licked into the garbage, put one piece on the plate, added a small scoop of vanilla ice cream and a lit candle and walked out to sing Happy Birthday.

Turns out the dessert tasted fine. Very rich, but tasty if you didn't know what it was supposed to be like. Speaking of which, Rachel said, "Is this my recipe? I didn't recognize it with the white chocolate."

Either the birthday boy was being polite, or it tasted better than it looked, but he came back for seconds. No one asked for the recipe, but it's just as well as there's no possibility the recipe could be reproduced. It was an original, that's for sure.

Next time I'll either bake a birthday cake, buy one from the Wal-Mart bakery, or offer to bring Guacamole.

Or Little Smokies.

Or both.

Keith's Christmas Letter

2011-12-27T13:16:00.000-06:00

(Keith and I take turns writing our Christmas letter. He weaseled out of it last year so this year was definitely his turn.)

2011, I believe, is a prime number…or not?

This is a question of importance when living with the “wife of my youth.” She loves odd numbers (me) and prime numbers (also me, currently 53). Growing old with her is fun and “silver” suits her well. Her blog is the best way to see what is happening in our world of Vikdom and living Up North.

You can also find Vikdom on THE Facebook: Most of the family actively lives on the net. Lani is not eligible yet, but I think she finds somehow to communicate via siblings.

You will not find this prime number on said source…its invasive and promotes way too much self-esteem or something like that. I will use the US Postal service until its demise! I do have a cool I-phone on which I am fast advancing the rungs of perfection in Angry Birds. Call me anytime. I love the sound of the human voice and you don’t have to use funny symbols on the keyboard 8>).

There once was a time without phones, radios, TV’s, computers, cars, or electricity. My, oh my, how busy we are. Let’s slow down! (Insert collective groan from the girls. "Dad, you're starting to preach.") It’s my #1 frustration as a pastor of a wonderful church. The more we have, the more the more takes over. I want my kids to learn a life of simplicity and service to others. Busy is too easy to do.

This was the year of my style of vacation: a beach, a book and no agenda. Ontonagon, Michigan is a wonderful place to slow down. Most of the girls were there and we enjoyed board games, beach time, hiking the woods, sleeping like hibernating bears, hot dogs roasted on the beach, and coffee at a local café. Eight days went too fast, but don’t busy days as well?

Twitter style story lines for the girls:

Christina - nursing school, helps with youth group, traveled to Honduras, Boston, NY, works at a marina, great young lady

Kiah - nursing school, helped with young adult summer outreach, ran first marathon, barista, bought a Daewoo?! Luvlygal

Erica - tech school, gone to camp all summer, barista, bought first car (black, stick, sporty) sees the good in folks

Anna - gone for 6 months at camp & boarding school, quick wit and laugh, stretching her world, beauty, no beast

Amy - finally in high school, wants to drive, knows Everybody! Took over Anna’s room (has to give it back) lil’ lady

Lani - most girls (believe me) are sloppy, not this one, loves to find bargains at thrift stores w/ Mom, glowing gal

(All daughters available for marriage, though two will have to be on layaway, so take your pick all qualified cute and employable guys. Dentists, auto mechanics, and plumbers have an advantage in dowry contracts.)

Andrew and Rachel continue to become their own family and a great asset to Village Creek Bible Camp. Rachel graduates from UW LaCrosse in May. We get to see them for Christmas! (And yes, we’re excited)

It is our hearts desire for you to know the One who was born a baby, died a lamb, raised a Savior and sits as King: Jesus Christ, the Lord! Joy to you, in Him, this coming year.

For the family,
Keith.

Chai High

2011-12-22T00:54:00.002-06:00

Smelled good in our house tonight.

My friend Tina, who runs the awesome Bed and Breakast that I blogged about here, graciously shared her homemade Chai Tea recipe. I didn't know what half the ingredients were so shopping today was an education.

Family reactions varied.
Erica, as she poured another cup: This is the best Chai ever!!
Kiah: You should lighten it up with two percent milk.
Keith: Does someone want mine? I don't really like Chai.

If you feel adventurous and want a special occasion treat, try this. Your family and friends will be amazed. If you like Chai tea, you'll like this. If you don't like Chai tea, you'll like this. (Unless you're my husband.)

I bought the bulk spices at a health food store.

Chai Tea

2-in. piece of fresh ginger, cut into thin rounds

2 cinnamon sticks

2 t. black peppercorns (who knew?)

12 whole cloves

10 cardamom pods

2 anise stars

½ t. whole allspice

6 c. cold water

6 bags of black tea (preferably Darjeeling)

3 c. whole milk

½ c. half and half

½ c. (packed) golden brown sugar

½ c. honey

(The blue pitcher contains milk. Our milk comes in plastic bags.)

Fresh ginger root

(smells nice when sliced)

Cardamon pods

Anise stars

(Smells like black licorice)

Combine first 7 ingredients in medium saucepan. Using mallet or back of large spoon, lightly crush or bruise spices.

Add 6 cups of water; bring to boil over high heat. Reduce heat to medium-low, partially cover pan, and simmer gently 10 minutes. Remove from heat. Add tea bags and steep 5 minutes. (in case you can't tell, those are floating tea bags in the pot.)

Discard tea bags. Add milk, half and half, sugar, and honey. Bring tea just to simmer over high heat, whisking until sugar dissolves. Strain Chai into teapot and serve hot.

Mmm, mmn, good!!!

What Next?

2011-12-19T20:49:00.000-06:00

You may remember my husband used to be a Wii little man.

The good news is he no longer spends countless hours playing Wii golf.

The bad news is he's now addicted to Angry Birds. I suppose one shouldn't knock it until they've tried it but anything with the word, "angry" in the title doesn't sound relaxing.

(Angry Birds is a video game that Apple's app store has sold over 12 millions copies of)

We got a good laugh out of this picture Christina found.

Monday Mugs - Holiday Treats - Housing Project

2011-12-12T23:08:00.002-06:00

A friend invited the girls and I over to make Gingerbread houses. There's two things I don't like about making them: The mess and the EXCESS of sugar. When my friend offered to do it at her house, I jumped on the offer. I'm not stupid. The mess would be at her house.:)

This was our first time making real gingerbread. We usually use graham crackers which is in some ways easier but doesn't taste as good and isn't as versatile. I blogged about our last houses here.

We had a great time, had a sugar hangover, and Lani's house lasted two days at home before being totally devoured.

Gingerbread has to be cut right after it comes out of the oven as it hardens quickly.

Making another batch of gingerbread

Assembling the house is a two-person job

Co-Builders

Amy's Masterpiece

The light brown things are gingerbread men-shaped marshmallows

Lani has a different style

(The white item on the protruding toothpick is a surveillance camera)

I made the snowman

Backside

Tasty scraps

We're still friends even after we messed up her kitchen.

Love her wheat bran shingles.

Tasty

Messy

High Sugar

But lots of FUN!!

I'm linking up today with Heather at Oswald Cuties.

Making Peace With the Gray

2011-12-07T01:34:00.001-06:00

At forty-six, I became alarmed at the increasing number of gray strands taking up residence in my hair.

Keith said he didn’t mind. Said he likes my hair long. I said he could have long or he could have gray, but I didn’t want long and gray.

He chose long and I chose not gray.

To his surprise, he actually liked the way it looked dyed.

Every few months for five years, much like a computer Paint program, a hairdresser magically erased any gray hairs that had the audacity to appear on my aging head.

I also have problems with thinning hair. Though somewhat mystified why hair grows on my chin where I don’t want it, but doesn’t grow on the top of my head where I do want it, I searched online for solutions.

Suggested options ran the gamut. I considered Rogaine for women, but was afraid with my luck and propensity to grow chin hairs that I’d soon have a full goatee.

Remembering the strong unpleasant smell of hair dye and how it tingles the scalp, I began to wonder if hair dye had contributed to the problem.

I googled negative effects of hair dye. Some websites said hair dye isn’t good for people. Ammonia and other strong chemicals can cause problems.

I considered going off the bottle but it’s hard to resist the urge to blast emerging gray hairs with ammonia-laced hair dye.

Many women my age dye their hair, so any person brave enough not to not dye, automatically looks older. Going natural requires the emotional fortitude to go around with a horizontal Cruella DeVille haircut while the color grows out.

Keith protested. Said he liked my hair dyed.

I’m not sure how God decides who gets what. I mean how come I got thin hair and chin hairs and Jane Seymour didn't. Although she’s had four husbands and I’ve only had one, so maybe looking beautiful at age 60 isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I digress.

Tired of trying to fight the tide, I took the plunge (excuse the mixed metaphors) and quit using hair dye.

And the strangest thing happened. Once I got over the shock of seeing gray again, especially in the front, it doesn’t look that bad. Other than the bottom half is brown-red and the top is faded dark brown marbled with gray.

Now that it’s growing out, I kind of like the not-so-dark-anymore hair interspersed with growing regiments of gray hair better than the not-quite-right shade I’ve sported the last few years.

Keith says he likes the growing out hair.

I’m not sure what the current ratio of brown to gray is but I know in time gray will stage a coup and take over completely. I wish I could pick what color gray hair I’ll get. (I could dye it a pretty shade of gray, but that would put me right back where I started from.)

This is not a judgment on people who dye their hair. I know why women use hair dye. I understand the desire to look younger. I've seen it tastefully done. I'm just saying that I don't want to do it any more.

People panic at the sight of their gray hairs, thinking that means they’re old. Maybe if we let them appear gradually, as God intended, they wouldn’t be so hard to get used to.

Does gray hair mean old? I’ve known people in their twenties to get gray hairs and people in their seventies to not have any. Old is when you ask for a stepstool for your 30^th birthday. When you sit on the shore instead of swimming. When you stop sledding or climbing trees. When you show up a half hour early for something to make sure you won’t be late. When the main topic of your conversations are your illnesses and injuries. When the number of things you won’t do because you might fall increases. Those things make you old, not gray hair.

So if you see me for the first time in awhile, I haven't aged alot, it just means that I'm finally looking my age (Keith is too for that matter but this is my story, not his) and it's time to change my five-year-old About Me picture.

Just For Fun

2011-12-03T06:38:00.000-06:00

If Only

2011-11-28T22:35:00.000-06:00

If only.

If only someone else had gone first.

If only Keith had been by his mother’s side.

If only we’d paid more attention, our Thanksgiving gathering wouldn’t be permanently etched in our minds.

Excited to be celebrating Thanksgiving with Keith’s family for the first time in three years and anticipating the upcoming feast, we were careless.

And Grandma paid the price.

Shortly after arriving at our niece’s house Thanksgiving afternoon, Keith’s 86-year-old mother Marie misjudged the one step down into the living room and fell.

We all stared, horrified at the sight of our beloved sister/ mother/grandmother quietly sprawled on the floor with her eyes closed.

Greeks or Italians would have been in chaos with everyone talking loudly at once. Even-keeled Midwest Scandinavian Lutherans handle emergencies with an ominous quiet.

Responses varied. Marie’s two stoic Danish eighty something brothers didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just stared with grim resignation as they watched the scene unfold.

Someone yelled, “Grandma!”

An uncle told the kids to stay in the downstairs family room.

Keith growled “What happened?” in his “Heads are going to roll voice.” Although by that point it was pretty obvious. The thing we had all dreaded had finally happened.

I tentatively peeked around the kitchen corner and saw Marie’s leg splayed in a suspicious angle. I quickly retreated and told Keith’s niece, “I can’t look.”

Either I’m Danish and don’t know it, or I’ve picked up their traits by osmosis, or being squeamish trumps common sense, but I’m pretty sure an emotionally healthy, well-adjusted adult wouldn’t go back into the kitchen to finish making a salad while their mother-in-law lies in pain on the floor in the next room.

Marie’s health has significantly deteriorated over the last year. Mostly her memory, but high blood pressure, cataracts, arthritis, and a bad knee have taken a toll. Nobody likes to say the “D” word but dementia is slowly clouding her mind.

Last month Keith’s sister Karen moved Marie to assisted living. We wanted to put Marie in a safe place and lighten Karen’s load, but instead moving aggravated the situation. Routine and familiarity allowed Marie to function. Change did not.

Thankfully Keith’s sister-in-law Sacia isn’t Scandinavian and had recently completed Ski Patrol emergency medical training and isn’t squeamish or cowardly so took control of the situation. She methodically checked Marie’s limbs and to our subdued joyous surprise, nothing was broken.

Thankfully Kiah worked as a nursing home CNA for five years, is a first semester nursing student, and isn’t squeamish so also knew what to do.

So ironic how things come full circle. When Kiah at 18 months old, badly cut her lip on a bookshelf and had to be stitched up, her Grandma held and soothed her.

Twenty years later, when Kiah knelt beside her injured grandmother while Sacia announced that Marie had cut her head on the bookshelf and needed stitches, Kiah held her grandmother’s hand and said, “I love you Grandma.”

Keith, his brother, and niece took Marie to the Emergency Room where they put four staples into her head. And discovered an irregular heart beat, which may or may not have been caused by the accident.

The rest of us half-heartedly sat down to our Thanksgiving meal, muted, sober, preoccupied.

An ER doctor confirmed no broken bones, no concussion, nothing obviously wrong except the head wound. We’re thankful because it easily could have been so much worse.

Dementia isn’t all bad. As traumatic as yesterday was, she doesn’t remember it.

But we do. No doubt everyone’s claimed a portion of the blame and wondered what they could have done to prevent the accident.

If only.

5x7 Folded Card

2011-11-28T01:37:00.003-06:00

If you're someone IRL that I'd send a card to, DON'T read this post. DON'T look at the picture on the right.

Shutterfly offered $10 off my next order if I pub-
lished this card to my blog. So that's why you're getting a sneak preview. I can't wait until they arrive!

Bright Merry Cheer Christmas Card

Create unique Christmas cards with Shutterfly.

View the entire collection of cards.

Guaranteed to Make You Smile

2011-11-27T00:04:00.000-06:00

And how was your day?

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T00:22:00.000-06:00

Hard Work

2011-11-22T23:56:00.000-06:00

Fall

By Kiah Vik

Age10

Dad wants us to work

And rake the yard.

But who wants to rake,

The works too hard.

But if he should say

Go out and play

We rake and rake

and "work" all day.

You must rake for quite awhile

To get the perfect jumping pile.

Happy 11-11-11

2011-11-11T12:19:00.000-06:00

Such a fun date, especially since I'm so fond of odd numbers.

It's also the 111111 Grandest Meeting of the Corduroy Appreciation Club in New York City. (Get it - corduroy has lines and 111111 looks like corduroy lines)

I also wanted to share a totally unrelated fun cartoon from Google images.

Christmas Card Blues

2011-11-02T13:45:00.002-05:00

Problem: So-so family picture this year. We were only all together at Easter and it's hard to get a good picture that time of year with our winter white faces and not-yet-thawed scenery.

People mostly looked okay but the pose shows no creativity, Lani's bleached out, and I appear to be either asleep while standing up or in pain.

Problem Solved: Yay! Shutterfly to the rescue. Forget pasty white Easter pictures. Say Hello to a collage from tanner times. It doesn't matter if we can't get together for a suitable family photo or if I'm not smart enough to figure out how to photoshop absent family members into a picture.

These are so much better.

Maybe this 4 x 8 Photo card

Or this one

or a 5 x 5 square flat stationery card

or these 5 x 7 Flat Stationery Cards

With over 900 flat or folded cards to choose from, I'm not sure how I'll ever decide. Shutterfly also sells photo cards for all occasions year round. Click here to view their other greeting cards.We used this card last year for Valentines Day.

If I can rip myself away from picking out cards, Shutterfly has many other cool items for me to spend my husband's hard-earned money on. My personal favorites are their photo books. I've shared some of our albums before like the one I made for my son's wedding. Shutterfly's quality is hard to beat and if I keep an eye out for their sales, I can usually get a good deal.

Shutterfly also has an amazing assortment of photo gifts. Click here to see their line-up of everything from magnets, mouse pads, photo mugs, address labels, to photo wall decals.

* * * * * * * * * *

I need to be upfront and confess that Shutterfly is giving me 25 free cards in exchange for my review, which is easy to do. I love Shutterfly products so it's no hardship to say nice things about them. But I promise I wouldn't say nice things if I didn't mean them.

If you haven't picked out your Christmas cards yet, go to Shutterfly.com and check them out.

Two Tortoises and No Hares

2011-10-31T00:32:00.003-05:00

Kiah shared in the last post about her desire to run the Whistlestop Marathon. She continues sharing about the journey.

After all the summer fun and vacations were over I hit the pavement hard in mid August with the only friend that that could be roped into doing it with me - Kathy of the skunk, skydiving, and garbage can fame.

With nine weeks until the marathon, we depended heavily on weekend “long-runs.” A long run is several miles longer than you’re used to running, and it’s ran at a slightly slower pace.

August 20 - 8 miles

The first long run rolled around bright and early. Kathy and I ran separately. Super tired at 7.5 miles I thought, “How in the world can I run 18 more of these!?” To my surprise I wasn’t sore at all the next morning.

August 27 - 10.5 miles

Kathy and I set out from the coffee shop in Washburn to Pikes Bay Marina in Bayfield. It took us 1:39 minutes. Beautiful weather, great company, and a satisfying finish. Conquering a distance I had never run before gave me new found courage to continue to aspire to run a distance I wasn’t quite yet sure I could run. Again, I was hardly sore the next day.

September 3 - 12 miles

Guest runner?! I jokingly asked our friend Nathan if he wanted to run 12 miles with Kathy and I. Being athletic, and game for just about anything he agreed without any hesitation. We rode the bus to Washburn and ran back to Ashland. At the beginning I felt really good, but by the end I felt dizzy and chilled. Being chilled when it’s really hot and humid is never a good sign, so again I wondered if I was physically able to run 26 miles. Still I was hardly sore the next day.

Nathan, our adopted Canadian college student is
smiling in this BEFORE picture. He wasn't so happy
afterwards and limped for a few days.

I couldn't have asked for a better marathon buddy!

September 3rd bus ride to Washburn

September 9 - 14 miles

Kathy and I ran separately again. I took a super pretty route that looped around in the country northwest of Washburn. In order to avoid heat exhaustion again I had purchased a hydration belt. Drinking during the run made all of the difference in the world and I finished feeling on top of the world. The half marathon was no longer an option because I knew I could run that far. I still wasn’t 100% that I could run a full marathon. I was a little more creaky the next day, but by the second day was back to normal.

September 17 - 15 miles

I meant to run 16 miles. I extended my loop from the previous week a few more miles because I had liked that route so well. My good time made me suspicious that the route might not have been as long as I thought it was. I hopped in my car and to my dismay found that I’d only ran 15! I was mortified because I’d been extremely tired, and didn’t think I could’ve made it 16 miles...let alone tack on 10 more miles for a nice even 26!

September 23. 18 miles

After the discouragement of coming up a mile short on the last run, I was determined to make 18 miles if it killed me. I mapped out an exact there-and-back route. After almost 3 hours of running I ran back into Washburn, high off the fact that I had just ran 18 miles!! I had felt really great on the run, and had logged a really great time. After this run I knew I could do the marathon. Now it was just a matter of how well I could do the marathon.

October 1 - 22 miles

30 degrees. Brrr!!! With the sun just starting to come up Kathy and I began our final training long run of 22 miles. We ran from Ashland to Bayfield and averaged a 9:45 minute/mile pace. With over 3 1/2 hours of running BEFORE noon we felt pretty accomplished and TIRED afterwards!

Carb loading the night before our 22 mile long-run.

Kathy resurrected a childhood backpack to carry Gatorade

Oct. 1 - Stretching at 6:45 am for our 22 mile run.

Again smiling BEFORE the run!

Preventative measures


A hydration belt takes all the credit for keeping me alive during these grueling long-runs

Starting off

Two weeks until the real deal of the Whistlestop marathon!!
WOOOO HOOOO!!

Red Rover, Red Rover, Let Kiah Come Over

2011-10-27T14:58:00.001-05:00

Kiah, at age four, would stop, get a determined look on her face, ball her hands into fists, take a runner’s stance, and say, “I'm gonna do Rover. Mark, Set, Go!” Then she’d zip off.

Rover? We were mystified. Who or what was Rover? Her explanations didn't make sense. She did this for years and we didn't know why.

At age 16, she saw me showing an Amazing Bible video to my Sunday School class. Her face brightened, and she said with nostalgia, “Rover.”

At long last, a clue. She said the mouse in the movie was named Rover and ran everywhere.

Ah ha! The mouse named Revver liked to run and she liked to run. Her four-year-old brain had heard Rover, hence the years of confusion.

Mystery solved. Case closed.

She still runs, mostly alone since the rest of us don't want to, and often at night, which worries her parents, but she’s 22 so what can we do?

Last year she set her sights on running the local fall Whistlestop Marathon. I tried talking sense to her.

“Honey, that’s so far.” (Duh!)

“You’ve never done one before.” (Double Duh!)
“Why don’t you start out with something shorter? Like a 5k or a 10k?”

Not to be dissuaded, she found a running partner, and forged ahead.

I’ll let her finish the post.

Rover signing in here.

I was 12 the first time I realized that I could run. Being homeschooled we didn’t have a fancy gym at our disposal for PE class, so Mom frequently took us outdoors for afternoon walks. Our rural roads were straight and graveled. Most of Iowa’s roads are on a mile grid system so each country block has a four mile circumference.

Rather than go around the four mile block, we usually walked south on a there-and-back route. Landmarks along the way marked certain distances. When we got to the creek, I knew we had walked a half mile. One day I wanted to see if I could run home from the creek.

To my great surprise I actually did it!? The excitement and astonishment left me breathing hard at the end of our driveway, waiting for the rest of the family to catch up, and it also started me on a decade of running that I don’t think anyone expected.

I ran year round all through junior high and high school. Freshman year of track was a lot of fun, and by the end of the season I had reached my goal time for the 800 meter.

400 Meter Hurdles (I'm in the black and red)

My sophomore year I decided to log 300 miles before track season started because I was determined to better my 800 time. I made my 300 mile quota, and in my first track meet, I bested my fastest 800 time from the previous year by ten seconds! I will never forget how good it felt to be told after my race how much I’d improved. Again, I did it. I actually did it! The hard work of running in subzero January and February weather had actually paid off. This realization of cause and effect helped set the stage for bigger and better things to come.

I took a “break” from running after high school. I played volleyball at a community college, but after the season didn’t make an effort to stay in shape. A year went by without running and I felt...fat, sluggish, and unhealthy so I decided to start running again.

To my dismay I was winded by a quarter mile, and ready to stop by a half a mile. I determined to stick with it, but two weeks later my right knee started to hurt when I ran. I hoped a break from running would help but it didn’t. For a year I tried different knee braces and strengthening exercises to let me get back into running.

In July of 2010 I worked at a church camp for six weeks in Southwestern, Minnesota. I determined to lose weight and start running again, and I did. Unlike the first time when I had tried to pick up running after being dormant for a while, I started out slow. It was frustrating to be so slow at something I used to be good at, but I figured it was better than the alternative of being a “blob.”

I moved back home with the family in Wisconsin in August 2010. I attended the local community college, and got a part-time job as a barista at a coffee shop. Being new to the area I didn’t have many friends, the transition of moving back home wasn’t going so hot, school and work weren’t enough of a time spender, so the most logical thing to do with my extra time was run! To my delight, slow and steady had worked and I was now able to run 4 miles before feeling tired.

I was working at the coffee shop on a Saturday morning in mid-October. My boss popped in for a few minutes and in passing said, “It might be a little busier this afternoon because of the WhistleStop going on over in Ashland.”

To this I replied, “What’s the WhistleStop?”

“It’s just the marathon that’s run from Iron River to Ashland every year” she said absentmindedly, looking for something on a high shelf. The seed was planted and I determined in my heart right then and there that, Lord willing, come next year I would run the WhistleStop Marathon.

To be continued...

Monday Mugs - Things to Do in October

2011-10-24T22:54:00.000-05:00

Are you in need of a mindless Monday Blog post? Are you struggling to deal with the weekend being over and can't muster the strength to type a single word? Well, Monday Mugs is for YOU!

Mondays are hard! Blogging on Mondays shouldn't be!

Today's theme for Monday Mugs is:
Oh the Things We Do in October

Earlier this month we had two weeks of gorgeous fall weather. Anna's roommate did a photo shoot with Anna and her friend Bailey. Hannah edited these pictures with Picnik and I love how they turned out. I like the contrast of Bailey's blonde hair and Anna's dark hair.

Visit Heather at Oswald Cuties for more Monday Mugs.

If I Had My Child To Raise Over Again

2011-10-21T16:03:00.000-05:00

1999

If I had my child to raise all over again,
I'd build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I'd finger-paint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
~Diane Loomans ~

Monday Mugs - Fabulous Fall

2011-10-17T16:32:00.000-05:00

I said in an earlier post that this would be a good place to visit come fall.

We recently had a week of extra glorious fall weather. The tree color was peaking. I knew it was now or never.

"Amy and Lani, get your hiking shoes on. We're going to St. Peter's Dome."

Big adolescent groan. "Do we have to?"

"Of course you have to. The trees will be glorious."

"But we just went in July and it's so far."

"No, it's not. It'll be worth it. I promise." (Seriously, I don't know what she's complaining about. She's young with boundless energy and good working knees. I'm the old person with creaky joints who's always the last one to the top.)

"But we'll get behind with our schoolwork."

"Don't worry about it. This is more important." (What's wrong with this picture?)

It's so fun to be right. Beautiful sky, incredible trees, warm weather, amazing view.

There's something soul satisfying about sitting on a warm rock on the side of a hill, high above a colorful valley on a Monday afternoon while everybody else is either at school or work.

I'm linking up today with Heather at Oswald Cuties.

Hugging the Hairdresser

2011-10-15T00:14:00.000-05:00

After not seeing her big brother for four months,

one of the first things Lani did was "fix" Andrew's hair.

Just another way we Viks have cheap fun.

Kids These Days

2011-10-10T22:46:00.000-05:00

Give them free reign with their birthday party

and they make rainbow cupcake/cakes.

Take a good look folks,

as this is an original you won't see anywhere else.

While waiting for a few guests to arrive Amy, Lani, and two friends dug through the dress-up clothes and went out in broad daylight dressed as a Mother (Amy), a Daughter (Lani), a Grandma in her nightgown,

and a high school graduate.

I don't know how to break it to them but Grandmas don't ride bikes in their nightgowns. Pajama pants maybe, but not nightgowns.

They rollerbladed,

Yes, I know this is blurry.

Danced with the dog,

Took silly pictures

And cool pictures.

A good time was had by all

and I'm thankful to be done with birthdays for awhile.

The Most Popular Birthdate in America

2011-10-05T21:29:00.002-05:00

Excerpts from a Yahoo online article today:

In the United States, the most popular birth date is Oct. 5, say online reports by a host of websites such as the factsite.com, 1800flowers.com, Wikipedia and even this report by a Washington NBC television affiliate. All are based on a single source, anybirthday.com, which claims to have searched a database of more than 135 million birth records.

In fact, says anybirthday.com, each year, an average of more than 12,500 babies are born on Oct. 5. As of 2001, they say, nearly a million Americans shared Oct. 5 as their birthday.

You might be thinking by now, "Ho Hum! So what?"

Well, it just so happens, that our very own Amy was born on the most popular birthdate in America. Amy's been having birthdays for 14 years now and I just learned this amazing bit of information.

She entered our life on a peaceful autumn morning fifteen years ago. You can read about her Birth story here if you're interested.

Amy over the years

3 years

5 years

6 years

7 years

9 years

Age 10 - She broke her wrist rollerblading

Age 13 at Andrew's wedding

14 years - At Horse Camp this past spring


Today, Oct 5 - A big 15 years old

She chose Fruit Loops (yuck!!!) for her birthday cereal and Keith took her out to lunch at an Italian restaurant. Christina baked her a Lemon Poppyseed Cake to take to Youth Group tonight. She's been chomping at the bit to get a Facebook account for the last two years which we let her do today. She's been on FB for eight hours and already has 50 friends.

Happy Birthday Amy

Hope you have a good 15th year.

P.S. The yahoo article said that nine out of 10 websites claimed Oct. 5 was the most popular birthdate.

It also said this: "The study credited to Armitabh Chandra of Harvard, shows that not only is the most popular birth date in September, but the ten most popular birth dates are all in the month of September, with Sept. 16 being the actual most popular birthday in the U.S. based on a review of all births in the country between 1973 and 1999. According to the NYT report of Chandra's research, Oct. 5 ranks a paltry 79th in terms of most popular birthdays."

Choose what you want to believe. I'm voting for the 5th.

So Not My Idea

2011-10-01T14:43:00.003-05:00

There I was minding my own business listening to a friend share about the school her son would attend in the fall. Little did I know this innocent conversation would change my life.

Afterwards Anna (age 17), my quietest child, went online and looked up the school and asked if she could go there.

In the interest of having an open mind, I researched the school and agreed that yes, it was a great place. But I couldn't get past the word, "Boarding School."

Anna, my most easy-going child, was politely and respectfully persistent.

Anna has been homeschooled from the get go so I never had to do those tearful, heart-wrenching good-byes when children go off to kindergarten. With the oldest four graduated, my homeschool load had lightened substantially and it wasn't such a hard job anymore.

I said ,"No." If I didn't want to send her to a public school, why would I want to send her to boarding school? I half kiddingly growled at the friend who mentioned the school in the first place and told her, "Thanks a lot."

We visited the school last May and asked lots of questions and her Dad told her, "Yes." Aagh!!! I told him I wouldn't fight him on the issue but I wasn't happy about it.

On August 20, Anna, my cautious, timid child, began her semester at Conserve School in Land O'Lakes, Wisconsin.

I talked myself through the angst. Some parents have children serving their country in Afghanistan or Iraq. She's only two hours away. Some parents have children in jail. Some parents don't know where their kids are. I really am blessed with a good kid who hasn't ever given me any trouble. With lots of prayer, comfort food, and phone calls, I could probably make it through a semester.

Conserve is a private semester High School, funded by an endowment from a deceased philanthropist. The school focuses on environmental stewardship and hands-on outdoor study. It's located on a beautiful 1,200 acre piece of heaven in Northeast Wisconsin. The facilities are amazing and it truly is a great place to learn.

But I miss having her home.

I wondered how a sweet, quiet, shy, cautious, reserved person would do away from her big family for four months. She seems to be doing just fine.

We're all slightly jealous of the fun things she gets to do, but we've forgiven her for leaving us and look forward to her return. Five weeks down, nine more to go.

Saturday Scraps - Super Sisters

2011-09-24T11:32:00.001-05:00

Have camera, have something to occupy an afternoon.

There you have it. Cheap fun at its best.

I'm linking up with Jennifer at Knees and Paws today for her meme Saturday Scraps.
Saturday Scraps is a blog hop to share scraps of life, memory or process.
It's a friendship quilt in the making.

Monday Mugs

2011-09-19T22:36:00.002-05:00

I haven't done a Monday Mugs post for awhile now but this week's assignment is "Just one picture from last week." Just one picture. I can do that. So without further ado, I present just one picture from last week.

You might rightfully ask what this is. That, my friends, is a Tree Quilt, a project Anna did with a few classmates in her Earth Art class. I never would have thought to do that but I'm not artistic. I think it's cool but it seems like a lot of work just to have to leave it hanging it there.

You can check out other Monday Mugs at Oswald Cuties.

Anna's Turn

2011-09-17T11:28:00.000-05:00

I shared last month that Keith had each of the girls write something about our trip to Ontonagon. This is what Anna (age 17) had to say:

Vacation felt wonderful after lifeguarding this summer at camp. Camp was amazing and I’m so glad that I went. It taught me many things, helped me grow in my walk with God, and I feel like it’s really helped me prepare for going away to school this fall.

Camp was also exhausting and I didn't have very much free time. It took a lot of physical, mental, and emotional energy. I wouldn’t trade my summer but after a lot of work, vacation felt priceless.

I loved being able to stay up late and sleep in. I loved having time to read and to journal.

I loved all of the lazy beach days and just being able to lay out and soak in the sun. I loved the calm, relaxed feeling of this vacation.

But one of the things I loved most of all was that it was just family. No running to people’s houses. No dropping off this person here or that person there. Just us staying at the same place, doing the same things, and enjoying each other.

I love my family and am blessed to have them. I can truly say that my sisters are some of my best friends. Sometimes they can really get on my nerves but who doesn’t get on somebody’s nerves at one point or another. It’s life and we always work through it.

I wouldn’t trade my family for the world and appreciate all the time and effort Mom and Dad have put into us. They’ve done great and I thank God that they’re my parents. And I also thank God for each and everyone of my sisters and for my one and only brother. I am blessed and I will miss my family this fall when I'm away at school.

Other family members chimed in on this topic. Click on their name to read what they had to say. Erica, Angie, and Keith.

I'm Still Here

2011-09-09T04:31:00.000-05:00

"Mom, your blog is out of date!" (Yes, I know. I've been busy)

"Mom, you haven't posted for awhile." (Guilty as charged)

"Mom, our ages aren't right." (Do you really think people keep track of your ages? But if it makes you feel better, I'll fix it.)

"You're going to lose your followers." (I hope not. Good followers are hard to find. Do friends stop being friends just because you haven't talked in awhile?)

Every day I plan to write a post and before I know it the day has evaporated.

Tonight I laid in bed for two hours, tossing and turning, completely unable to fall asleep. So here I am in the middle of the night, blogging, of all things. So much has come at me our way the last few weeks that I don't have any profound or witty things to say. I'll share a little bit of the hamster wheel I've been on.

*Keith's Mom had surgery to remove a skin cancer spot on her leg.

* My parent's were both hospitalized for pneumonia. They're home now and doing better but this is the first time my Dad has been in the hospital in a long time. We don't live near Keith's Mom or my parents so we're not doing any of the after hospital care, but there's phone calls to be made and worrying to be done. Even though worrying is wrong I have a hard time not doing it.

*Our adopted college student returned. We're happy to have our Canadian back in town.

*I went canoeing on the Brule River with our Youth Group. Lots and lots of fun.

You can't see me because I'm taking the picture

*Christina and Kiah started nursing school. We thought they were going to kill each other the first two days and hoped it wouldn't be a long year. But they both calmed down and things are going much better. It's a hard program and we suspect they were taking out their nervousness on each other.

*Erica started her second year of college in her Occupational Therapy program. I'm thankful for a good affordable local technical college since we have a platoon of girls who will need to go.

*Anna broke my heart by leaving for a semester. Seriously, who goes to boarding school anymore? Do you know anyone who goes to boarding school besides the girls on The Parent Trap? Three weeks down, eleven more to go. I'll write more about this in a future post.

*With all the other girls doing their own school thing, Amy, Lani, and I have started another year of homeschooling. Three days down, 150 something more to go. So far, so good. Sure would make things easier if I could find the geography book. The older kids all liked geography so I'm pretty sure no one lost it on purpose. Sigh! I am so not organized.

*I was foolishly deceived by all those wonderful do-it-yourself blogs that take yucky looking furniture and transform it into something seriously awesome. A month ago I started painting Amy and Lani's bunk beds. My beds did not turn out as well as the blog projects. My family is ready to commit me as I still don't have them done. Keith warned that he wants his side of the garage back.

We're going camping Sunday night. Since Keith is a pastor, camping on the weekends doesn't work for him. But come Sunday afternoon, we're out of here and headed to Big Bay State Park on Madeline Island for two days. Keith wouldn't camp if I didn't push the issue, but it's my birthday on Sunday so he's obligated to be nice to me. I'm really hoping it doesn't rain. Who wants to sit inside a tent in the rain on their birthday?

It's now 4:30 am and I'm going to try sleeping again. Good morning, everyone.

Ontoganized

2011-08-24T12:44:00.005-05:00

Around here school doesn't start until after Labor Day so that's why we're still posting vacation pictures when other people are posting Back to School pictures. As a homeschooler, we start whenever we want, but it's not easy to convince your children to start school when their public school friends haven't started yet.

Keith did something neat on our recent trip to Ontonagon, MI. We spent the afternoon at the beach either swimming or cogitating.

Then he sent us off for 45 minutes with notebooks and asked us to write about our vacation.

After which he built a fire on the beach and we roasted hot dogs. I'm not a big fan of hot dogs but they taste great cooked over a campfire.

We forgot roasting sticks so Keith improvised by duct-taping two bamboo skewers together. Then he stuck them in the mud near the shore so the waves would wet the sticks and keep them from burning whilst we cooked our hot dogs.

After eating, he asked us to gather, still on the beach, mind you, and read to each other what we wrote. It was a sweet, affirming time, probably the highlight of our week. By then, the coals had burned down just right for S'mores.

Then we sat and watched the sunset over Lake Superior together.

Talk about soul satisfying.

Some random thoughts Keith wrote about our trip:

I've been Ontonagonized.

I really like this place. I don't know why but it's very hard for me to relax. Not until five days into this vacation was I able to quiet down inside.

I needed this break. I take on many problems, mostly my own, but people share their burdens with me and it weighs a lot after awhile.

I’m fascinated by how my girls can seemingly go with the flow and adapt to different sleeping arrangements. As a kid I hardly every slept anywhere other than my own bed in a very familiar bedroom.

I love my family, every one of them. It is good to have them here.

This is about as close as it gets to my style of relaxing.

I whine a lot.

I LOVE the beach.

I love to watch my kids play in the water

They are growing up so fast.

Time is short, eternity is long.

(Click here if you want to read my take on vacation and here if you want to read Erica's version.)

Beach Bums

2011-08-18T13:30:00.115-05:00

On our recent vacation to Ontonagon, Keith had us each write about our week. My installment can be read by clicking here. This is what Erica wrote:

Our family vacation was magical. That's because we were so ready to take a vacation that anything we did was fun. Even with a few minor fights along the way, we interacted positively and genuinely enjoyed each other’s presence.

Such a relief after lifeguarding all summer to know this beach wasn't my responsibility.

An amazing gift was the weather. It was glorious to look outside each morning and see the sun. Every place we went was beautiful and awe-inspiring. It’s crazy that beautiful places like this exist a mere couple hours away from home, not in some foreign country.

My favorite sight was simply Lake Superior. Every time I see it, it makes me happy. The horizon was absolutely stupendous!

I'm trying to dunk Kiah

I'll always remember sitting by the lake one night and seeing huge black storm clouds and lightning dance across the horizon.

I also enjoyed the sound of the waves rolling onto the beach. I love how the lake changes personality. One day, it's super calm, almost without a ripple.

The next day it has big waves breaking into white foam as they roll onto the beach.

I enjoyed our beach house. It was such a blessing to stay there and it was just what we needed. It’s inspired me to find my own house sooner or later (definitely later)

I’ve also enjoyed seeing Mom and Dad relax.

I was thankful to do all these activities with my family and to share these beautiful, wonderful things with them.

I’ll always remember our hike across the Porcupine Mountains. It was challenging and beautiful. Even though the hike was hard, we had fun and cooperated with each other.

One of my favorite sights was the Lake of the Clouds. It took my breath away when I saw it for the first time. There were some great looking storm clouds that day as well.

I also liked walking around Houghton. It’s such a cute, quaint little town. We ate at a cool restaurant called, "The Library." We talked about old memories and shared inside jokes with each other.

Then there was Great Sandy Bay north of Houghton. What an amazing day! Even though the water was cold, we simply did not notice because we were having way too much fun! We body surfed for over an hour. (Even Mom)

Sure things weren’t always amazing. Ticket to Ride kicked my ~~butt~~ bottom (oh the hardships of writing a blog post for a Mother who doesn't like the first word I used), Mom and the girls took forever at the surplus store and Amy felt a little left out at the beginning of the week, but they were very minor incidents in a majorly fun vacation.

I thank God for the great time He gave us and the beauty we experienced.

Happy Campers

2011-08-18T11:53:00.001-05:00

Lake of the Clouds - Porcupine Mountains State Park

We just got back from a week vacation with five of our seven children. I almost don't want to tell where we went because it was so quiet and peaceful and if people find out how wonderful Ontonagon, Michigan is they'll all want to go there for vacation and then it won't be quiet and peaceful any more.

My usual vacation philosophy is to visit anyone we ever knew, try new things, pack each day as full as possible, come home exhausted, and take two weeks to recover.

Keith always said those kinds of vacations were exhausting. To which I usually said, "So?" Vacations aren't about resting and doing nothing. I can rest at home. On vacation I want to be doing something, preferably things I haven't done before.

This year reality trumped my desires. Depleted savings dictated we try Keith's idea of the perfect vacation, which is staying in one place, not doing much of anything, sitting by a lake, and reading a book.

Turns out he was right. We had a great time. Or to be more honest, we had an 87% good time. 6.5 days out of eight were great, the other 1.5 marred with an argument or two and the fallout of seven imperfect people in close quarters for a week. But all things considered we had a nice time.

I've sung Lake Superior's praises before but we saw a new side of her this week. We live on a bay close to the Apostle Islands so we can always see land across the lake. But in Ontonagon, we were on the open lake and can't see the other side. It's like being at the ocean. Hot sand, long beaches to walk on, waves, driftwood, sea gulls, and sand dunes.

For some reason I've yet to discover, Michigan owns a chunk of land attached to Wisconsin, not Michigan. This "Upper Peninsula" is abbreviated "U.P." and residents are nicknamed, "Yoopers." (U.P. mutated like this - U.P. - pronounced as letters, 'You - Pea' morphed into U-pers and then abandoned all restraint and went straight to "Yooper.") I'm explaining this so if you ever visit Upper Michigan you won't give yourself away as a tourist by asking what a Yooper is.

Ontonagon (pronounced On - tuh - naw - gin - stress on the "On" and let the rest bounce off your tongue) is two hours from our home and located on the western edge of the U.P.

A friend let us use her empty house that she's trying to sell. At first I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that we'd be staying in an empty house and would need to bring everything. But then I told myself to think of it as a really nice tent. We brought air mattresses, a small folding table, camping chairs, lots of games, and set up housekeeping.

Erica

The girls loved the cute little house. It worked perfect for us. Kiah walked through it and said, "Now this is the kind of camping I like." I'd much rather sleep in a tent, but I'm not going to lie. Indoor plumbing, electricity, and a working stove and refrigerator were really nice.

The week's highlights included:

Swimming everyday

Watching the sun set over Lake Superior every night

Body surfing at 10:00 at night in their clothes

Hiking in the Porcupine Mountains State Park

Digging a hole in the sand, roasting Hot

Dogs and making S'mores on the beach

Umpteen games of Ticket to Ride, a game Andrew and Rachel gave the girls for Christmas. Anna, the stinker, got the high score of the week.

- Watching the movie Soul Surfer on my laptop -
- Sitting on the beach late at night watching a storm over Lake Superior -

- Day trip to Houghton and Great Sand Bay -

We took tons of pictures and I'm trying to decide how to share about our trip so you won't get tired of hearing about it and your eyes won't glaze over. Keith had us each write about our vacation so in future posts I'll let our family members speak for themselves.

Stay tuned...

A VCBC Summer by Erica

2011-08-12T21:31:00.006-05:00

After over two months of being away from home, it's weird to go from reading this blog from afar, to writing a blog post from the comfort of my own home.

That's not to say I didn't enjoy my time away from home, matter of fact, I loved my many weeks at camp this summer. That's what this blog post is about after all!

To start off, a little explanation. I spent my summer at Village Creek Bible Camp (or just VCBC) as head lifeguard. I had a great team of lifeguards to hang out with, including my dear little sister Anna.

The Summer Theme was Frontier, hence the wonderful old time pictures

(Andrew, Andi, Chrissy and Jay - some of the lifeguards I worked with this summer)

The summer was full of great speakers, wonderful God moments, and more often than not, crazy fun activities. Much of my camp experience was centered around the lake and the dishroom! Being a lifeguard we had to report to the dishroom at 7:15 every morning for breakfast dishes. Being the great dishwashers we are, we got through dishes pretty fast and had the rest of the morning for free time. Then after lunch we hiked up to the lake to well, lifeguard! All afternoon would be spent up at the lake.

(Anna and Kim at the lakefront)

In between turns on the lifeguard stand we hung out in the Guard shack and did safe, mother-approved things like burning hand sanitizer and catching mice in ice cream containers. A favorite thing was the Guard Snacks we kept at the lake. We had an abundant supply of Freezees and Chocolate Animal Crackers all summer long.

A great thing about camp is the unique opportunities one gets to enjoy.

(Many fun camp people "raving")

For example the lifeguards hosted a Rave in the Guard shack. We used high powered black lights, a couple strobe lights and pumped some German techno. It was exhausting and totally fun.

(Erica, Anna, Kate and Elizabeth)

During a weekend day off, a hipster weekend was hosted. We hit up the local Goodwill, found some great outfits and had a great time. A bonus was that we accidentally went to a Nordic Fest! It was fun to rediscover some of my heritage. (25% Norwegian)

(Kate, Elizabeth, Aaron, Jonathan, Kaylee, Anna, Erica, Nathan and Ben)

During one of my last weekends we decided to get up and watch the sunrise. The main problem being that the sun rises at 5:53! But we dragged ourselves out of bed and up to the lake for a morning swim and a beautiful sunrise.

(Ehh, Way to many to list!)

Somewhere along the line, someone had the crazy idea of a huge group date. We all got dressed up and went to Lacrosse for dinner at China Star (the guys paid :) and Riverfest. It was a fun evening and Jay (middle front) outdressed us all in a tux.

My main reason for this blog post is to encourage you, go to camp or send your kids to camp! Growing up, camp played such a great, influential role in revitalizing and strengthening my faith. It was great to find a community of kids my age and of my same faith. Even if you think you're too old to go to camp, there's always a way! VCBC offers Family Camps, which are a fantastic opportunity for entire families to experience camp together. (Follow this link to check out Village Creek's great camps. http://villagecreek.net )

Even better than attending camp (in my humble opinion) is working at a summer camp. Yes, I know, I'm a little biased but it really is a great experience. I've learned so much about work ethics, living in a community and developing healthy friendships at camp. I've been challenged and I've grown so close to God throughout my times at Camp. As a counselor and as a lifeguard I've been able to pour into campers and other staff and feel the happiness that comes from being a help to others. Camp has a way of changing people, and it's always for the better.

So find a camp that works for you. I've worked at two different camps in my short lifetime and found them to be almost polar opposites, but equally amazing in their impact. Find a camp that caters to your style, one could be more outdoorsy, another could be much more of a suburban experience. Either way, find somewhere that allows you to explore your walk with God in a positive setting.

Public Service Announcement

2011-08-07T03:26:00.000-05:00

Hear Ye, Hear Ye,

I will not be posting this week as we are leaving for vacation today. I stayed up until 3:30 am packing, (which I don't recommend) and I hope to not be crabby until I catch up on sleep.

Hoping to return rested and relaxed,
See you in a week.

A Valuable Deposit

2011-07-27T11:04:00.000-05:00

Kiah said last Saturday night, "Mom, I have the day off tomorrow, do you want to go hiking?"

After church, a business meeting, lunch, naps, and what-not, we leave the house at 5:00 pm, and I grumble that I distinctly remember her saying she had the day off. I don't particularly like to start hiking this late in the day, but she's young and I'm not but I love her and am thankful that she likes spending time with me.

On the drive south, she comments how pretty the scenery is and says that she's never been this way before. We look at her in shock, because she's lived with us for a year now. Turns out she's driven the road between Duluth and Ashland many times, and the drive between our house and the next town a bazillion times, but other than that she hasn't seen much of Wisconsin.

We all agree she needs to get out more. Sunday made a good start. We visited St. Peter's Dome, about 40 minutes south of Ashland.

Lani discovers peanut butter works

good to hold a spoon on her nose.

But it also leaves peanut butter on her nose

Lani got stuck with the job of

carrying water bottles and snacks

Amy couldn't resist

Nor could he.

Oh, cool! A waterfall.

But wait - You're supposed

to look at it, not climb it.

"Kiah, that's far enough.

You're making your Mama nervous."

Two thirds into the walk, I'm thinking I'm too old to do this. But then

we get to the top and the view makes the long uphill climb worth it.

Girls, please stay away from the edge.

Every time I get up here I think we should come back in the fall. This is sure to be a glorious view when the trees are changing color. But we get busy and forget. Maybe this year!

Fueling up for the long walk down.

A fun day and another good deposit in my children's memory bank.

Eagle's Wings

2011-07-22T11:17:00.000-05:00

Christina announced that her birthday gift to herself was to go Skydiving.

Excuse me, as in jumping out of a perfectly good airplane and trusting science and technology to help you safely land in one piece?

To solidify her resolve, she posted her intentions on Facebook.

Comments quickly appeared.
     "Have fun"
     "You the bomb...I mean parachute."
   "Don't do it."
    "The saying, 'If at first you don't succeed, try try again' doesn't apply to skydiving."
   "Wear a nose protector."

I sarcastically said, "If you don't come back, can Kiah have your laptop?"

The mother of the friend who went with her left her a sweet note with the verse Isaiah 40: 31 - But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles..."

Wish I'd thought to be encouraging rather than sarcastic.

She talked three friends into going with her.

They drove up to Duluth and flew out of Superior (Duluth's twin city on the Wisconsin side)

Two went up at a time.

Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.

This was a tandem jump so they're attached to someone who knew what he was doing.

They celebrated with a Peanut Butter Pie

Christina admitted to being nervous before-hand and second guessed whether it was a good idea or not. But she's glad she did it, thought it wasn't as scary as she had imagined, and would like to do it again sometime.

All I can say is I'm glad someone else went with her. I love her, but not enough to throw caution to the wind and spit in gravity's face.

One more item off her bucket list. Three dozen more to go.

Oh To Be Young

2011-07-18T21:03:00.000-05:00

Oh, to be young and enjoy simple things,

Like:

Friends

Boat rides

and making unique sand castles

Complete with suspension bridge

A chair and two whirlpools

After weeks of hearing about everyone else's hot summer weather I'm happy to report that after a cool June, summer finally arrived in Northern Wisconsin and we're doing our best to make up for lost time.

Summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two

most beautiful words in the English language. ~Henry James

A Different Kind of Slide Show

2011-07-12T14:20:00.000-05:00

My oldest turned 26 last Sunday.

After a difficult 36 hour labor, Christina was born three days after our first anniversary to green parents who didn’t know much and learned as they went.

Memories flash through my mind like a slide show.

7 weeks - Working at a Labor Day Family Camp before the advent of portable play pens, we had her sleep in an empty potato box.

Me wanting a baby gate so she wouldn’t fall down the stairs. Keith insisting she could learn to maneuver stairs. Under his tutelage, at 10 months of age, she could go up and down like nobody’s business.

Having a convulsion at 16 months old and scaring her mother spitless. The cause never determined, but thankfully she never had another one.

Having an uncanny sense of balance and loving to spin in circles. Clutching the walkman (a gift from Keith’s parents for her second birthday), listening to a Sunday School songs tape, and spinning in circles for long periods of time.

Age 2 – Perched in a carseat in the second row of our packed-to-the-gills old blue Volkswagen Van, surrounded by boxes containing all our worldly possessions as we drove from Colorado Springs to Portland, Oregon where Keith planned to attend seminary.

Age 2 ½ - Not especially happy to have a baby brother. Seemed to resent his intrusion into her life. Took all his clothes out of his drawers and hid them in the closet.

Age 3 – Asked to play church. Stood up and said, “Let’s sing #55.” After “leading” a few songs, she announced, “Now it’s time for the snacks.” (meaning communion.)

Reading lots of books to her. Bus rides to the library storytime. Coming home with a big bag of books. Many hours with our nose in a book.

Fighting with Andrew while I nursed her baby sister Kiah. After figuring out how to read books to them while nursing a baby, at feeding time I plopped one child on each side of me and we read.

Age 6 - Loving Laura Ingalls Wilder and having a Little House on the Prairie birthday party. My sister made her the happiest girl in the world by giving her an old-fashioned sunbonnet. She proudly walked down a busy street in Portland, dressed in her prairie girl dress and sunbonnet, oblivious that no one else was dressed like her.

Age 6 - Moving back to a Denver suburb after her Daddy finished seminary.

Catching a stray cat and convincing it to stay and become the first Vik family pet. “Jennifer” lived for another 10 years.

Baking and decorating her own 7^th birthday cake because Mom was flat on her back with a ruptured disc. Christina helped a lot as I recovered from back surgery.

Age 8 – Her first experience with grief. Keith’s Dad died unexpectedly at age 70 from a massive heart attack.

Age 10 – Staying overnight with me in the hospital after the birth of her fourth sibling, Anna.

We escaped from our cramped 2 bedroom basement apartment in a huge city and moved to eight acres and an old farmhouse in rural Iowa. So thankful to at last be living near her Grandma and Aunt Karen.

Climbing trees, designing tree forts, raising chickens, countless hours at the local public pool, Legos, 4-H, Fair projects, books, friends, and kittens.

Age 14 – discovered Scrapbooking. I’m rigid and formulaic. She’s an artist. Started going with me once a week on “Mom’s Night Out” to scrapbook or make cards with my friends.

Age 15 – First job, helped with an afterschool program at the library. Loved her boss and enjoyed the job.

Developed a strong interest in politics. Made a scrapbook of political articles. Sent a homemade card to congratulate Iowa's Senator Chuck Grassley on a recent political win.

Graduated at 17 and promptly left home to be a summer camp counselor at Camp Id-Ra-Ha-Je in Colorado.

Came home and worked at a Daycare to save money for her next adventure.

Age 18 – Summer spent at Village Creek Bible Camp as a wrangler.

Age 19 – YWAM Bible School (Youth With a Mission) in Townsville, Australia. Keith and I didn’t sleep for two days until we knew she’d arrived there safely. She had a whopping good time. After a six weeks Mission trip to Thailand she spent a week in New Zealand before returning home.

After two years at a local community college, she transferred to Iowa State University in Ames, IA to study Political Science and International Studies. She did a semester in Buenos Aires, Argentina (with side trips to Chile, Paraguay, Uruguay, and Brazil) and studied a school year in Spain (with side trips to Ireland, England, and Morocco.)

While in Spain she became a devoted listener to Dave Ramsey podcasts. Impressed with the importance of getting out of debt, she moved home after graduating from college to pay off school loans.

Next on the horizon – Chipping away at her Bucket List and starting Nursing school with Kiah in the fall.

She survived inexperienced parents and grew up to be an interesting, intelligent, determined, and adventurous person.

Tonight we’ll celebrate with a big birthday dinner with family and friends. So thankful for birthdays to remind us of our blessings.

Happy Birthday Sweetie, we love you.

Becoming Keith's wife

2011-07-07T15:12:00.001-05:00

Years ago at the beginning of my freshman year of college, someone asked if I planned to go all four years there. At the time four years sounded like a huge amount of time and I could no more imagine committing myself for four years than I could see myself sailing around the world. Instead I planned to take one year at a time. (I ended up going to that college for five years.)

1983

27 years ago today I stood before a minister and guests and committed to spending the rest of my life with a green-eyed bearded Norwegian from Iowa. Aware of the length of a lifetime in vague general terms but totally unable to fathom the logistics of living with someone else for the rest of my life.

1984 - on our honeymoon

27 years is a long time. But when I talk to someone who's been married

for 50 years, I can't wrap my mind around being married that long.

1993

27 years

Four states.

One son.

Six daughters.

2003

27 years of 365 days with three meals a day adds up to 29,565 meals. I didn't keep a tally so there's no way to know how many meals I didn't cook when we went to Taco Bell, or to a friend's house, or to a church potluck, or bought TV dinners, or I didn't feel like cooking. Just to be on the safe side, I can say that I've cooked at at least 20,000 meals since saying "I do."

2005

Not the most romantic thoughts on an anniversary, but marriage is sharing a life and life is composed of good days and bad days, a little special and a whole lot of normal, high points and low points, flying high and scraping bottom, sometimes stretching and occasionally breaking.

If you were to ask me when I became Keith's wife I would say July 7, 1984. But in all honesty, I'm still becoming his wife. We're not the same people we were 27 years ago. We've learned and grown and matured and regressed. We've experienced amazing moments of emotional intimacy and frustrating episodes of dumb-founding stupidity.

2006

So I'm up for the next 25 years, though the thought of gout, and walkers, and hardened arteries, and loss of memory, hair, and hearing, and Keith getting bushy eyebrows and ear hair is a bit scary.


2010

I'm thankful for 27 years of being married to to the one man out of the 3.5 billion males on the earth that belongs to me. I'm thankful that we didn't give up when things got hard and that he doesn't snore is also a definite plus.

I love you, Keith, even if you don't like sharing your Kindle with me.

Happy Anniversary

Growing Up

2011-06-30T11:55:00.001-05:00

I recently watched my 86-year-old Mother-in-law trying to change the sheets on her bed. She had just chewed us out for doing things for her that she can do herself. "I'm still a human being," she snapped.

She stripped the bed and then kept walking back and forth between two piles of linens and lifting them up, looking for something. Finally I cautiously asked, "How's it going?"

She looked up at me. "Well, I've been debating in my mind. Did you and Keith sleep in my bed this week?"

My heart sinks. It's really hard to watch someone you love decline. Her memory is slowly deteriorating and it makes me sad to see this dear woman confused. She gave my husband a wonderful childhood, loved her husband, kids, and grandkids, and makes the best lemon meringue pie I've ever eaten. If you look up the word responsible in the dictionary, the definition would be Marie Vik.

1984

Swallowing my dismay, I gently tell her, "No, we slept downstairs in the basement. You slept in your bed." I'm not sure what's worse. That she didn't remember where we slept or that she didn't remember where she slept.

"Then where is Neil sleeping tonight?" Neil, being Keith's older brother and his wife who were in town for the weekend to attend Neil's class reunion. Which was why she was changing sheets in the first place.

1998

Numerous thoughts flash through my mind. Decades of her doing laundry on the same day of the week, hanging sheets on the clothesline, ironing her husband's pajamas, insisting on tablecloths for family meals, keeping an immaculate house, baking chocolate chip cookies, Christmas goodies, birthday cakes, and cinnamon rolls. But not any more. Not if something as simple as making a bed throws her off.

"You wanted Neil to sleep in your bed and you offered to sleep on the couch."

She picks up the top half of one linen pile again. "Oh, that's right." She sets the pile down and picks up the other one. Then repeats the process a few more times.

Afraid of being chewed out again, I ask, "Would you like some help? I always like to have two people to make my bed. It's lots easier with two people."

She lifts up the linens again. "That's fine, but I can't find my sheets."

I don't know how to handle this. She doesn't want to be babied, I know she likes things to be clean, but she's already spent 10 minutes lifting piles of linens and I don't know exactly what she's looking for. I suspect she doesn't either. I love and respect this woman and the last thing I want to do is upset her. I quietly tell her, "You know, you washed the sheets you just took off two days ago. You're a very clean person, maybe we could just put them back on."

She looked at me with a mischievous grin, "I bet they'll never know. You just keep this to yourself." (good thing she doesn't use a computer so she'll never see this post). We put the sheets back on and made up the bed and I put the unused linens back in the linen closet, grieving because up until a year ago she would never dream of putting anything but fresh, clean sheets on a bed for guests.

2004

We're thankful that for the most part she's in good health. That though she doesn't go anywhere besides church, the bank, post office, and grocery store, she can still drive. That if she keeps to her routine, and Keith's sister checks on her every day, she can still live in her own home. That she agreed to use LifeLine. That she still writes us a letter every week, like she has for the last 30 years.

But she's not the same and we're selfish enough to hope that she'd always be there for us. Faithful, loyal, kind, considerate, pleasant, stable, and steady. It's not easy to see your parents get old. We don't like it one bit and know that we have to grow up and ask God to supply the patience and maturity we need to handle this with grace.

2009

Keith's sister lives in the same town as his Mom so bears the brunt of the responsibility for her care. I feel guilty that Karen has to do so much and wish we were closer so we could do our part. His Mom has cared for so many people over the years and now it's our turn to care for her.

And someday it will be our children's turn to care for us. We'll be old and I suspect they won't like it. Not one bit.

Faithful Follower

2011-06-23T11:55:00.000-05:00

While on vacation last week we spent two fun hours with Keith's aunt and uncle. (I grew up on the west coast where we had "ants" and Keith grew up in the Midwest where they have "awnts." So we've compromised and when my kids are in Oregon they visit their "ants" and when they're in Iowa they visit their "awnts." Stephanie, if you're reading this post, they are your great aunt and uncle.)

Roy and Gertie have always been fun people to spend time with. They're cheerful and encouraging and make a good effort to connect with us and our children.

Two years ago Keith suggested that I let Aunt Gertie know about my blog as he thought she'd enjoy reading it. I felt awkward telling her about it because not everyone enjoys reading blogs.

But Gertie (wearing pink in the picture) did read and in typical Gertie style was enthusiastic, affirming, and encouraging. Though she's not an official follower, she regularly reads it. I find this amazing because not many people over 80 (sorry Gertie for mentioning age but I won't be anymore specific than that) do email, let alone read blogs. Keith's Mom who is the same age has never used a computer.

Gertie commented that she couldn't wait to read what I wrote about our vacation, so I decided to surprise her with her very own post. I know she's probably sputtering, making scary faces right about now but I'm 450 miles away so she can't hurt me.

The above picture is from Mother's Day when Gertie went to visit her older sisters in the nursing home. Sally, age 98, is on the left and Marie is on the right. The nursing home had a bunch of old hats and said if people would try them on they'd take their pictures. I love this picture of the three sisters, the last of the ten siblings to be alive.

I just want to publicly thank you Gertie for caring about my family and making us feel welcome and being a fun, supportive, interesting person. We love your stories, questions, and comments. We're blessed to have you as part of our lives. And thanks again, for being my most faithful follower.

The Best Dad in the World

2011-06-20T00:24:00.003-05:00

Lesson learned. Next time we go on vacation I should mention beforehand that I will be out of the "office" for a week and won't be posting. Good intentions of posting while on vacation didn't happen, besides which Keith's Mom doesn't have internet access. Had a good visit with Keith's family and now we're back home ~~enduring~~ enjoying a Northern Wisconsin ~~cold spell~~ summer.

This week's Monday Mug's theme is "Let's Hear it for the Boys." As you know, boys are scarce in our family, but we do have the world's best father. Kim at Pair Slices is hosting Monday Mugs this week.

In honor of Father's Day I have a picture of each of our children with their Dad. The kids call him Dad, Pops, Poppy, and Pops-a-lot. I'm so thankful my kids are blessed to have a good Daddy.

Christina

(25th Birthday)

Andrew
(His wedding)

Kiah
(Her High School Graduation)

Erica
(Her baptism)

Anna
(2009 - Mother's Day hike)

Amy
(Making Gingerbread Houses)

Lani
(Denver Bronco Fans)

Some Favorite Pictures

1995

2005 - Pikes Peak, Colorado

2011

"Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children;

now I have six children and no theories."

--John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester--

Horsin' Around

2011-06-08T11:10:00.000-05:00

I wanted to share a few photos from our girls' week at Horsemanship camp at Village Creek Bible Camp last month. It's sort of a family affair. Andrew and Rachel work there, Andrew with programming, and Rachel with the horses. Erica and Anna were counselors, and Amy, Lani, and a friend we brought with us were campers. The girls lived, ate, and breathed horses for a week.

You know how girls ask for horses but parents say no because of the expense. This is our alternative. A week of concentrated horse related activities and the girls are good for another year. A much cheaper alternative to actually owning a horse.

Sassy

Riding Lessons


Saddlesore after one day - pouty face on.

Lani and her friend we brought with us

Anna with a camper

Rachel

Erica, Lani, and Andrew

Along with counseling, Erica and Anna had to help in the dining room

This isn't the best picture, but I really like the nature art on the walls

Love, love, love this sliding barn door in the dining room.

Along with all the riding lessons, they had chapel, swam, kayaked, climbed trees, jumped on the trampoline, took trail rides, cooked out, slept outside one night, did crafts, creek tromped, did archery, and played games. They played hard and slept hard. Needless to say, they didn't want to come home.

So thankful for a fun safe place for my kids to learn and grow. Village Creek is now into the regular camping seasons. They have camps for grades 3 - 12. If you're interested in any of their regular or horse camps click here.

Painful Subject

2011-06-03T12:20:00.004-05:00

Word to the wise. When playing ultimate frisbee with someone a lot bigger, no matter how competitive you are, it's usually safer to not get in a big guy's way.

I waited to blog about this in more detail until the painfulness subsided a bit and we could all laugh about this. (You are laughing now, right Christina?)

A month ago, halfway through Bible Study the doorbell rang. We meet in the basement of some friend's house and Keith offered to go upstairs and answer the door. He didn't come back.

Kiah took advantage of the break to use the restroom and went upstairs. She didn't come back.

Finally the hostess said she'd go upstairs and see what was going on. We warned her not to go upstairs since two people had already left and not returned. She went anyway and came back saying Keith was talking to someone I've referred to on this blog before as "Waldo." (click here if you're curious or need a refresher)

Well that was certainly odd. He leads youth group and this would have been smack dab in the middle of youth group. Maybe no kids showed up and he had something urgent to talk to Keith about. But still it was odd that he'd interrupt our Bible Study.

Keith and Kiah finally came back down and Keith said he'd tell us later. A half hour later when we finished, Keith said "Waldo stopped by to say that he'd accidentally broken Christina's nose. (insert astonished collective gasp)

Turns out with great fear and trepidation "Waldo" had come to the door that night, saying to Keith, "I need to talk to you about one of your daughters."

This immediately struck fear in Keith's heart, wondering what they had done now. To his great surprise he was led to the car where Christina sat in total misery. OUCH!

Christina helps with Youth Group and being uber competitive was guarding "Waldo" a little too closely. He went to fling the frisbee and his forearm connnected with Christina's nose. He was horrified to feel the crunch, hear the snap, and see her immediately drop to the ground in pain.

If Christina or one of the other youth group kids had done the same thing, they would have hit the other person in their stomach, but because he's so tall, her nose was on his arm level. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He, of course, felt terrible and wondered how to tell his pastor that he'd broken his daughter's nose. Christina asked if it looked bad and he lied and told her that it wasn't too bad.

Knowing not much can be done for a broken nose and not sure whether to visit the emergency room or not, they tracked down an EMT friend of Christina's who took one look at her and said, "That looks awful!" The EMT advised against an ER visit, suggesting she get in touch with an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor the next day.

Family responses varied from sympathy to ridicule. We all felt bad for her but she looked so cute with black eyes. She came to breakfast one morning wearing a purple shirt and Keith couldn't resist saying, "Your shirt matches your eyes."

She was out with a friend a few days later who was self-conscious because people kept looking at him, probably wondering if he'd beat Christina up. She did resemble a victim of domestic abuse.

One of the hardest things was when she gave in and had a good cry, she couldn't blow her nose because it was broken.

Our family has a warped sense of humor so Kiah wickedly told "Waldo" that if you maim someone so nobody else wants to marry her, then you have to marry her. (A shotgun wedding or a different sort.) Poor guy hasn't been around much since.

I begged Christina for a picture, saying that down the road when all this has subsided she'd be able to laugh about it and would enjoy having a picture for posterity's sake. I tried to be kind and take the best possible picture under the circumstances.

Later the same night, Erica snuck up to her, snapped an awful picture, then ran upstairs and posted it on Facebook. Nothing like a supportive family to help you through hard times.

A friend gave her these patches like football players wear, took this picture, and posted it on Facebook with the title, "Making lemons out of lemonade."

Christina tried one ENT doctor in Duluth who reset her nose (without anesthesia - double ouch!) but didn't do it right. Upon a friend's recommendation, she tried another ENT, who this time with anesthesia and a surgical procedure, reset her nose properly and then put a nose cast on her. (A nose cast is more like a stiff bandage than a plaster cast.)

I begged and begged to no avail for a picture of Christina with the nose cast but she refused. Something about not wanting it to be put on the blog.

She had the cast for a week and now looks good as new. After a month of messing with swollen crooked noses, ice packs, black eyes, resetting, and a nose cast, I'm happy to say that aside from Christina flinching anytime someone's hands or arms gets anywhere near her nose, we've turned a corner and she's almost as good as new.

In lieu of marrying Christina, "Waldo" apologized with a $25 Starbucks card and a bag of Reese Peanut Butter Cups. We're all still friends and lessons were learned all around.

We've been inundated with broken nose stories from people who heard about Christina. Many brave souls have set their own noses. Hopefully this chapter will soon close and we'll be ready for the next adventure.

A Summer Situation

2011-06-01T01:33:00.000-05:00

My kids have a bad habit of leaving every summer. Much of it is my fault, since I loved camp so much when I was young, we made sure our kids went to camp. Since I loved camp counseling I encouraged our kids to counsel when they got older.

I'm happy they enjoy camp and are willing to spend their summers serving others, but three months is a long time, Erica. Sniff! Sniff! Miss you lots sweetie! Hope you have a wonderful summer. Be blessed and be a blessing.

Mission Accomplished

2011-05-26T02:57:00.001-05:00

I'm sorry for leaving the last post up so long.

My husband said last weekend, "You haven't updated your blog."

Lani asked yesterday, "Didn't you do Monday Mugs this week?"

Last night Christina said, "Your blog needs updated."

Talk about pressure. You'll be happy to know that I didn't have writer's block and no new emergencies popped up. I simply had my nose to the grindstone (what an awful cliche if you stop to think about it) and have been working on a digital scrapbook for the last the last nine days.

I've wanted to go to a scrapbook retreat for the last year but finances and schedules haven't cooperated. Last week I drove my four youngest daughters to my son's camp. Since it's a six hour drive, I just stayed down there all week.

Knowing my kids would be busy all day and I would have long delicious hours all to myself I pondered how to best use that time. I was so tickled to come up with....drum roll please...

My own personal scrapbook retreat.

So while Andrew and Rachel worked, and my daughters camped and rode horses, I scrapbooked and had the best time. I get a wee bit OCD with these kinds of projects so ended up working on it after returning home. I finished 25 minutes ago, just squeaking under the wire for Shutterfly's deadline.

I'm excited because I've never done a 12 x 12 digital scrapbook before due to the cost. Shutterfly had a Father's Day special for 50% off a 12 X 12 photo book which made it affordable. At least I'm hoping Keith will feel that way when I tell him I had to spend $63 to save $72. I'm really liking a Father's Day special where I get to buy a photo book for me. Sweet.

I've had Andrew and Rachel's wedding pictures on the computer for the last nine months and wanted to put some in an album. I made small wedding scrapbooks for the Grandmas at Christmas but wanted something for us. Shutterfly recently launched a newer, for the most part, nicer way to do digital albums.

Now that I'm done, I can blog, buy groceries, cook meals, and do housework again.. After I get a good night's sleep I'll be around to get caught up on your blogs again.

Our cars may be messy, our shoes are often muddy, the floor hasn't been mopped this month, and thanks to my husband, you know I have a messy underwear drawer, but my pictures are in order. The beauty of a scrapbook is it stays done, unlike housework which is undone almost as soon as I've finished.

If you're interested you can take a peek at the finished product. If you see any mistakes I don't want to know about it. I'd prefer to be in denial until the book gets here. (On the options tab, you can adjust the slide show speed.)

2:30 am and all is well. Signing off for today. I mean tomorrow.

Click here to view this photo book larger

Pass It On

2011-05-18T01:21:00.001-05:00

Woke up in a contemplative mood this morning. I'm spending a week with Andrew and Rachel while my four youngest attend Andrew's camp, two as campers, two as counselors. Everyone is busy and I have blissful hours on end ALL TO MYSELF. I start to feel guilty, then remember that I'm busy all the time at home and it's really, really nice to have a break.

I recently read a book on mentoring that referenced the book, The Secret Garden by Frances Hogsdon. The story is about bratty, spoiled Mary Lennox who is orphaned and sent from India to live in her uncle's imposing mansion on the wild English moors. Raised by servants, Mary is rude, and demanding and her new home is cold and lonely. Her maid Martha befriends her and introduces Mary to her brother Dickon. Together Mary and Dickon help her sickly young cousin, Colin, who has been shut away in a hidden Manor room, to blossom, and in the process Mary finds her identity and melts the heart of her emotionally distant uncle.

If your eyes are starting to glaze over at this point, please stay with me because I promise to get to the point here real soon.

My favorite character is Martha and Dickon's mother, Susan Sowerby. Long before the Duggars had their 19 children, Susan raised 12 children in a humble yet happy home. In stark contrast to the quiet, gloomy neighboring mansion where Mary lives, the Sowerby home bursts with life, love, and energy. Poor in worldly goods, Susan is rich in things that matter. She is wonderful and wise and imparts a wealth of good things to her children.

So here's the cool thing. Susan influences her children for good. Dickon mentors Mary who in turn reaches out to Colin, which spills over to the Uncle, and ultimately transforms Misselthwaite Manor to a happy place.

That's a wonderful picture of how our lives impact others. Like a big cosmic game of leap frog, we are helped by others, then we help others, who then in turn help others. When we are weak, our friends and family nurse us back to physical, spiritual, or emotional health. When our friends and family fall down, we help pick them up. As our lives entwine, we give and take and hold each other up.

Years ago, I commented to a dear friend who had gone above and beyond to help my family after my back surgery, that I felt bad that people had to give us so much help. She wisely responded that someday I would have a turn to help someone else. How true that has been. I love to have opportunities to pay back the friends who helped me by helping others.

This week my husband is at a Leadership conference in Green Lake, Wisconsin. He's spending quality time with a group of pastors he's trusts who have become a safe place for him. My husband gives much and helps a lot of people but there are times when he needs to recharge. I woke up this morning, happy that he was in a good place and knowing good things will happen.

We'll both prayerfully examine the pieces of our lives, assess what's working, identify what's not, seek divine wisdom, interact with people we like and trust, recharge our batteries, and return home refreshed and equipped to engage, sleeves rolled up, ready to do the work God next sets before us.

And others will help us, and we'll help others, who will in turn help others. And so forth and so on.

It was in another garden, many years ago that God first said, "It is not good for man to be alone." I like to think that He was referring to more than just finding a female companion for Adam. Truly we all need each other and He never meant for man (or woman) to be alone.

Breaking News

2011-05-15T22:52:00.001-05:00

1 Tall strong guy

plus

1 Frisbee

equals

1 broken nose.

My good friend Susan wrote a limerick in Christina's honor.

When ultimate frisbees let fly,
I've heard you can get a black eye
Or an off-center nose
For a sad Facebook pose
I'm hoping that soon you'll be fine.

(The boy who threw the fris-bee
Should aim his shots more careful-ly.
And when he breaks noses,
He ought to bring roses
To offer his apolo-gy!!)

Making Mama Happy

2011-05-11T02:08:00.001-05:00

I said to my dearly beloved last week, "I know you love me but it hurts my feelings that you regularly blow off Mother's Day and my birthday. I know I'm not your mother and I don't need anything, but I wish you would help our girls do some- thing for me. Some of them are young and don't have transportation or the financial resources to do it on their own."

Part of his problem is he's a pastor and Sundays are busy days for pastors and Mother's Day falls on a Sunday. Part of the problem is he's hard wired differently than me.

There are some things it seems like he should just know. If I have to explain or ask it takes all the fun out of it. But he's not a mind reader so instead of being frustrated or resentful I talked to him.

Since Keith leaves lots earlier than I do for church, we usually drive two cars. The girls left right after church and I drove home with Keith. The girls had gone shopping and packed a picnic lunch. When I got home I was told to change into hiking clothes.

I can't think of a nicer way to spend Mother's Day. We went to Copper Falls State Park in Northern Wisconsin and spent a couple sun-soaked hours traipsing the trails. Kiah had to work so couldn't go but the others laughed and giggled and teased and goofed off. Keith bought me a Wisconsin State Parks Pass.

I gleefully looked through the Wisconsin State Parks booklet, overjoyed at all the possibilities. There are 99 state parks in Wisconsin. I so love options.

Often it's like pulling teeth to get the girls to go hiking with me. Trying to find a time when all six of them are available is like looking for one of Willy Wonka's golden tickets.I was so blessed that they willingly went hiking and enjoyed themselves.

Of all the awesome scenery we saw, my favorite was a line of girls winding through the woods. I smiled thinking those are all my daughters.

So different. So full of life. So mine.

Thanks family for the gift of time. For doing something that isn't necessarily what you like to do, but what I like to do. Thanks for a wonderful afternoon and the making of good memories.

And please, next time. Could we remember to bring the memory card for the camera? (Sigh! No pictures.)

I'm So Sorry

2011-05-04T11:33:00.001-05:00

Dear Mothers of My Youngest Daughter's Friends,

I know that when you bring your daughters to our house on Monday afternoons for a Spanish class taught by my oldest daughter Christina you have every right to expect that when you pick them up they should look more or less like they did when you dropped them off.

How was I to know that after class was done, when Erica asked if the girls would like to fingerpaint that trouble was sure to follow?

I'm sorry for not supervising, but when a 19-year-old offers to do something with the younger girls you sort of assume things are under control.

When I did finally check on them outside painting in the driveway, I hope you'll see what I saw. That they were exceedingly cute and having a rip-roaring time.

I hope you're able to see Art and not mess.

You may rightfully ask yourself what this has to do with learning Spanish. Perhaps they learned the names of the colors they so joyfully applied to each other. Amarillo, Naranja, Azul, Verde?

Please know this child insisted that it was okay to decorate her pants and said that her Mom wouldn't mind. She truly seemed happy with the finished product.

If it makes you feel any better they probably used $10 worth of paints and it's anybody's guess when Erica will get around to putting the paint back up.

I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me and that this has not damaged our friendship. If you allow your daughters to return next Monday, I promise to keep a better eye on things.

Sincerely,
A Negligent Mother

10 Lessons We Learned This Easter

2011-04-26T00:19:00.003-05:00

1. It's a treat to have Andrew and Rachel home for Easter.

2. Make sure to find out that your brother and wife will stay in a hotel and won't need your bedroom before you spend all afternoon cleaning it. (I promise I didn't know this before and I would say I'm sorry Erica, but it was nice to see your carpet again.)

3. Our cats don't like little dogs. Stubby spent most of Friday evening glaring and growling at Christina's friend's cute little Shemu Emu lapdog. The cats probably thought, "It's not a dog because dogs are big. It's our size but it's not a cat. If we glare at it long enough, it might leave."

3a. Speaking of dogs, Christina learned that if she didn't shut her bedroom door at night, Mally, the Beagle we're babysitting, likes to climb in bed with her and snores. If she's not diligent to make sure he gets outside at the proper times, he leaves "leetle bombs" on her bedroom floor. :)

4. You never know quite what to expect when you ask your Dad to borrow his swim trunks.

5. A great way to amuse yourself while waiting for church to start is to take pictures.

5. Walk carefully during the "Greet one Another" time in church. Erica will be glad to explain why it's important to make sure one shoe is not tangled up in the other shoe before taking a step and how to save face if you've tripped when you're sitting in the front row.

6. Check your husband's wardrobe before he leaves the house for church. (Does your pastor wear suspenders and colorful ties?)

7. Be sure the crockpot is turned on before you leave for church or your meatballs will be cold when you arrive home expecting to be greeted by the luscious smell of a ready Easter dinner.

8. Understand that it takes awhile to corral the kids to take a family picture.

(Two's a good start. Can we get the rest of you over here? )

(Could you all please simmer down?)

9. Plan to take at least 50 pictures before you get one that works. Stand on a little bench if your children are taller than you.

10. Cherish the moments when you can all be together. It's a part of life for children to grow up and live their own lives, but it's really nice on occasion to have all the chicks in the nest at one time. Bye Andrew and Rachel, we'll miss you! Thanks for coming home.

Check out Oswald Cuties for more Easter Monday Mugs.

This and That

2011-04-21T15:32:00.002-05:00

I've got a boatload of things that need done for the Easter weekend but can't work up the energy to get going without an adrenaline rush. When it's two hours before dinner tomorrow, my body will dump massive amounts of adrenaline in my blood stream and by golly, this house will get cleaned. I'm a hearty subscriber to the "Nothing cleans like company theory."

I've been working hard on our church's first pictoral directory. We wanted an inexpensive, simple-to-make, easy-to-update way for our congregation to put names with faces. Another lady helped take pictures. What a chore! Either she took pictures or they could email a digital photo. Oy!! How hard is it to line your family up, take a picture, and email it? I should have asked the teenagers to help with this project. They take and upload pictures all the time. Keith brought home the first sample last night. Oh my. For cheap and simple it turned out nice but it won't stay current for long. An elderly lady died this week and a baby is due next week.

Christina put the van in the ditch after youth group last night. She's had enough family teasing of late so I resisted the urge to make a whole blog post about it, but some things are too good not to give a little mention. It's usually funny when you look back on it. (Right, Christina? We're not laughing at you...)

My Mom's been in the hospital this week out in Portland, Oregon. She has Emphysema among other things and probably only has 25 % lung capacity. It doesn't take much to put her in the hospital. She was in ICU for a few days but is now back on the regular floor.Won't be much fun for her to spend Easter in the hospital.

Mally just walked in the back door. As in Mally, short for Malice, the middle-aged beagle that belongs to the Kathy who ran over our garbage can last week. Kathy's Mom is in the last stages of liver cancer so Mally needs somewhere to stay for awhile.

Mally is easy to have around but Andrew and Rachel, and two of Christina's friends and their dog are coming for the Easter weekend. Come tomorrow evening we'll have 12 people, four dogs, and two cats under one roof.

Maybe I should just go to Wal-Mart and not leave until I have everything I need for the weekend. Just stand at the meat counter and ask fellow shoppers what they plan to have for dinner. Or assign each child an Easter dinner component and see what we come up with. Hot dogs anyone?

Okay, I need to be the adult here. Time to get productive. I think I can, I think I can...

Blessings on your Easter weekend. May it be a special time of faith, family, and friends.

All's Well That Ends Well

2011-04-16T23:59:00.007-05:00

It's a good thing I have kids so there's something to blog about. This week the girls provided another doozy.

Keith and I were five hours away at a conference. The two youngest spent the week with their brother and his wife, leaving the oldest four at home to fend for themselves.

A Facebook spot check turned up this post by Nathan, the adopted college student from my last post.

Nathan: Hey Christina Vik, how do you get a garbage can out from under a car at 1 in the morning?..... you need 3 people and a saw.

Since my kids and their friends regularly quote movies, songs, or YouTube videos and I don't understand half of what they say, I figured Nathan was referencing an inside joke.

Then I remembered that the trash was supposed to be taken out the night before. Keith hadn't told the girls to take the garbage out before we left. What were the odds they'd remember on their own?

I commented on Nathan's Facebook post, "I'm hoping this was a hypotethical question."

Keith took it at face value, saying, "I bet someone ran over the garbage can." That made the most sense, but what about Nathan's reference to the saw?

Finally Keith called Christina and asked what happened to the garbage can. She naturally wondered how her Dad found out. When we said Facebook, she probably considered unfriending me.

We weren't mad. I ran over the same garbage can myself two years ago and blogged about it here. But the question begs, what was the saw used for?

Turns out Polar Plunging, Motorcyle Mama Christina and her friend Kathy, of the skunk-sprayed dog fame, were watching Dave Ramsey DVD's at our house. Erica had put the garbage out earlier and Kathy backed over the garbage can when she left.

She didn't realize what had happened and wondered what the strange noise was. Then she came back to our house to figure out the problem. They looked under the car and the can had bent in half and lodged in the undercarriage.

They tried pushing, kicking, huffing and puffing, but nothing dislodged the garbage can. Christina called Nathan who tried pushing, kicking, huffing, and puffing with the same results. Finally he took the saw and cut the can out. Mind you a week's worth of garbage was still meshed in the tangled garbage can.

So now we have a nice new black garbage can which is actually bigger than the old one.

All I can say Christina, is you've gone above and beyond to do your part to provide blog fodder for awhile. You might want to let one of your siblings take a turn.

Introducing...

2011-04-16T00:13:00.001-05:00

August 2009, Keith received the following email:

Dear Dad,

We, your wonderful, sweet, loving catless daugthers, submit the following:

10 Reasons Why We Should Get a Cat Now!!!

1. Potty-training a cat is easier in the summer when it's warm.

2. We're used to having cats and we love them and miss having them to play with.

3. We’ll take care of it, PROMISE. You won’t have to do a thing, except clean up an occasional hairball.

4. We win 5 to 1 in a family vote.

5. If us kids wanted to spoil the cat we could pay our own money for toys, treats, and soft food.

6. We need something to play with. You have the Wii to play with and now we need a kitty.

7. Cats aren't that much trouble. We could be asking for ferrets or a chipmunk, maybe even a raccoon.

8. The place in our hearts for loving dogs is OVERFLOWING but our place for loving kitties is EMPTY.

9. We are all old enough to be responsible and mature with this cat and take the burden off your shoulders.

10. Children normally like animals more than adults do.

Signed,

Your hopeful cat-loving daughters,

Erica, Anna, Amy, and Lani

P.S. The dogs said they don’t mind

So after weeks of negotiations, Dad gave the okay.

First the girls had to pick from five kittens.

Call me crazy, but I'm a firm believer that cats are part of the whole happy childhood thing.

They chose a sweet good-natured black and white kitten.

We took a week to decide on the proper name. A family vote decided the name "Inky." The girls (and the dog) loved Inky and thoroughly enjoyed him.

Unfortunately Inky died two weeks after we brought him home. The girls were hugely disappointed so it was back to the drawing board and back to our friend's house to pick out another cat.

After losing one kitten, they didn't want to take any chances. They wanted a backup cat so this time we brought home two of the cutest kittens ever. We named them Stubby and Chubby. Stubby doesn't have a tail, hence the name. Chubby was bigger, only now Stubby is, but he's stuck with the name anyway. We've had them since they were little kittens but they're lots bigger now.

So now the pets are one big happy family.

We have two golden retrievers, one short and fat with a tail, and one tall and skinny without a tail. Now we have two black cats, one chubby with a tail, and one without a tail. Do you notice a pattern here?

I saw when I got up this morning, that they'd pulled down one of my dining room curtains. They are a bit rambunctious but we all enjoy them. Even Keith. We are satisfied customers.

Pawsitively Adorable Guest Blogger

2011-04-15T12:15:00.000-05:00

Since I've noticed this blog doesn't give all family members equal exposure, I commandeered the blog today to rectify the situation.

Allow me to introduce myself.

I joined the family three years ago and was one very cute baby, if I do say so myself.

After a LONG drawn-out, convoluted decision making process, my family named me Tucker, although some days they forget and call me other things. Seriously, who would name their dog, "Stupid," or "You Idiot?"

I LOVE the girls and live to be near them. I sleep with Amy or with guests, like Kiah's old boyfriend, Mark, when he came for Easter. Some people infer that I'm a bed hog but that can't be true.

I used to stare at the lady who feeds me until she woke up. She hated when I put my cold wet nose on her cheek when she was sleeping. Now I just climb in bed with her until she lets me out to do my business and then gives me my morning portion of Pedigree dog food. Life is good.

Sometimes the girls share their clothes with me. I prefer not to wear girl clothes, but masculine items are hard to find in this household.

Jessie and I hang out a lot together, although she doesn't like to wrestle as much as I do.

I've been told I'm too big to be a lap dog,

but can I help it I like to snuggle?

I miss living in the country and having unlimited squirrels and rabbits to chase. But town has so many more people to bark at. I love to be out on the front porch and watch the world go by.

I admit, I'll do almost anything for attention.

Sometimes we walk down to Lake Superior where the big guy has a bad habit of throwing perfectly good wood away. I run after them and bring them back, hoping he'll get tired of being wasteful.

What's really frustrating is the thanks I get for dashing into Lake Superior to save their sticks is they make me stay outside when we get home until I dry off because some people think wet dog doesn't smell good.

I might have a few annoying qualities like digging up the yard, rifling through bathroom garbage, tracking mud in the house, sniffing people's backsides, leaving dog hair everywhere, and throwing up from time to time, but I'm working on it. I've also been accused of stalking my family. I love them so much and I know they love me. I mean, with a face like this, what's not to love?

Thanks for reading my post. Stop by if you're in the neighborhood. I love having new people to bark at. Or sleep with.

To view other Self-Portraits visit http://oswaldcuties.blogspot.com/2010/12/monday-mugs-pets.html

Next week's theme is Winter.