Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Things I Know For Sure Now That I'm 42

In my four-plus decades on this planet, I have learned, or perhaps more accurately realized and assimilated, more in the past 24 months than in the sum of the previous 480.

These realizations range from profound to just plain silly and what follows is a by-no-means-complete list in no particular order:

• There is no greater or more powerful path to REAL Freedom than complete surrender to Truth. The process for me hasn't been pretty, easy, instantaneous or anything less than excruciating, but the payoff has truly been life-changing. "The Truth Shall Set You Free" may be a cliché ... that doesn't make it any less accurate. The thing about secrets is, you don't realize how heavy they are until you have none. What sweet relief!


• Miracles happen. Every day. Everywhere. You've just got to be willing to see them for what they are and stop using limiting, cyinical words like "coincidence," "accident," and "fluke." God loves us and wants to surprise us with happy things like any loving parent does. This morning He surprised me with two, very appreciated gifts: My children slept until nearly 10:00 (which NEVER happens) AND a "bouquet" of daisies that just appeared in our pasture this morning, right outside my kitchen window. These are the ONLY daisies in our pasture. Two acres of weeds and grass, never one daisy and precisely on June 20th... Boom. Like I said. Little miracles.


• When he puts his mind to it, my husband is an excellent cook! This morning he got inspired to make me strawberry crepes for my birthday... and he knocked it out of the park! I'm quite certain that if he ever got truly turned on to the idea, he would outstrip my culinary abilities in a heartbeat. While I await that glorious day, however, I will just enjoy his momentary gourmet outbursts and my current reign as primary house chef.





• Crepes are an absolutely outstanding way to serve fresh strawberries!

• And when you run out of crepes, they're really awesome on left over strawberry dumpling noodles, too.

• My children are two of the most Spiritually aware and powerful people I know.

• I LOVE to mow the lawn! (As long as I'm using our riding mower.)

• I enjoy doing stuff in the yard a whole lot more than I ever thought I would and am now a little obsessed with landscaping, plants and the outside of the house in general.

• There is nothing on this earth that can overpower the fierce beauty of Grace.
Definition:
Grace: 1. (in Christian belief) the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings.
2. My youngest daughter.
Take your pick, they are both truly AMAZING.

• I am certain, no matter how old they get, my children will never outgrow their passion for dirt.



• My oh-so-fragile preemie, first-born has blossomed into a vibrant, resilient, generous, brilliant young woman who embodies genuine love and intense gentleness. Anna can smell God in the approach of a rain cloud, see Him in the emerging chartreuse hues of Spring's first tender shoots and respects every creature and being as unique and precious... from potato bug to toddler.

• My husband is a study in unknown depths. Just when I'm certain I know all there is to him he'll surprise me with some insightful observation, unexpected wisdom, or tender expression that takes my breath away. I am beyond grateful that I had the unparalleled honor and privilege to marry him twice!

• I have never been more contented or truly joyful in my life and there is no place or time I would rather live than here and now and no other person I would rather be than me.

• To say I am "fortunate" is an understatement of Biblical proportions... fact is... looking at my life and the Grace, Love, Abundance and Blessing that define it, I'm convinced I'm God's favorite! :D


Happy June 20th, Y'all!

Monday, June 15, 2009

A Bowl Full of Memories


Good morning, Folks!

I realized last night, much to my chagrin, that it has been a full seven months since I last posted. Good grief! Life is BIG, people!

Facebook has a small part to play, I suppose, but I'm back with a subject that is so worthy of telling the world that I just had to break my unintentional blog silence...

IT'S STRAWBERRY SEASON IN OREGON!!!

Wondrous and amazing as that fact is all on its own, two other things related to this subject fill me with rapturous glee: 1) this year's crop of our own homegrown strawberries is very nearly perfect... and 2) they are so bountiful, I have enough to make STRAWBERRY DUMPLINGS!!!

These luscious, seasonal gems from my childhood are so far from the usual strawberry fare that they cause a very specific chain reaction of sensations when I eat them... the sum of which is, I am rendered helpless to look in any direction but into the bowl of creamy, chewy, not-too-sweet goodness and bob around in the memory-laden cream... eight years old, hearing my Grannee call from the kitchen, "Who's ready for another one?!"

All arms shoot up in the air... even those with bowls still half full of pink, milky loveliness.

My Grannee got the recipe from my Grandad's mother who was a German raised in Russia but had lived in the states long enough to have English-speaking children. This gave rise to lots of interesting pronunciations of foods that are neither truly German nor Russian making it nearly impossible to actually look up a recipe. I have played with both languages a little bit and have decided that the name Great Grandma called them, "Strobensclays," (spelled phonetically) is most likely a mixture of English and German because the Russian translation of Strawberry Dumpling doesn't sound anything like the word she used and is definitely not appetizing. The German word is "Erdbeerekloss," which if you try to smash "strawberry" into the front of it, and say it quickly to a mob of ravenous American kids in a heavy Russian/German accent, could come out sounding like "Strobensclass..." That's what I'm thinking, anyway. Maybe it was her own secret language. Who knows?

So, all this verbosity on my family history is to say that last night I made Strawberry Dumplings for the first time in years, for the first time ever with homegrown berries, for the first time ever for my kids... so that was a pretty big deal for me.

Anna picked, trimmed and cut all the berries which was a HUGE help!


I don't have a written recipe... I just remember what I saw Grannee do and what they tasted like so I have had to cobble together my own imprecise recipe.

For the strawberry filling, I used about two pints of berries for a small batch. Just enough for dessert. When Grannee made them, these golden packets of love were most often consumed as the main evening meal and required five to six times these proportions.

So, to the berries I added about a third of a cup of sugar.

Traditionally, crackers or bread crumbs are crushed up and mixed with the berries. I'm guessing this is to make the berries go further and well, the saltiness tastes really good with the sweet berries. I didn't have enough crackers OR breadcrumbs so I just made sourdough toast and buttered it, let it cool, cut it up into small-ish chunks and set it aside.

For the dough I used a standard Betty Crocker Egg Noodle recipe:

2 cups flour
3 egg yolks
1 egg
2 tsp. salt
1/4 to 1/2 cup water

(Here is where I use a food processor)
Measure flour into bowl, add egg yolks, whole egg and salt. Process until egg mixes thoroughly into the flour. Add water one tablespoon at a time mixing thoroughly after each addition but mix only until the dough forms a ball.

Kneed a couple of turns by hand just to bring it together, check the consistency and to feel like you actually participated in making the dough, then let it rest under a dish towel for about 10 minutes.

Roll dough into a rectangle about 1/8" thick (you don't want it too thin or it will pop when you boil it) and cut into squares.


Back to the strawberries...
Mix crackers/crumbs/toast into the strawberries and place a spoonful in the center of each square of noodle dough.

Pinch the tips of squares together and seal up the edges to make little packets. Try to keep the edges as clean as you can to avoid a bad seal.


Drop the finished packets into boiling water.

Fish them out when they start to float. This takes five minutes or less.



Drain and place cooked dumpling in a bowl and drizzle with heavy cream and melted butter.
Great Grandma used to top with buttered croutons also, but I don't remember Grannee doing it very often and I prefer to put more emphasis on the berries.

Top with fresh berries or uncooked filling for color and a layer of brightness in flavor.

A very important note to make here is that, personally, Grannee thought it was a SIN to boil a fresh Oregon strawberry and while she would make dumplings for everyone else, when it came her turn to eat (after everyone else had been fed, of course) she would boil the noodle dough scraps and top them with the uncooked berry mixture... thus preserving the color and texture of the fresh berries and averting strawberry abuse.


I swear to you, these little beauties are worth every ounce of effort they take and I have never met a soul who didn't say "OH, WOW!" upon their first bite.

As for me and mine... strawberry season just isn't long enough!

Enjoy 'em while they're here, Y'all!!

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Snapshot of a bloggers absence

Yep. I've been MIA.

No, I haven't been trapped under anything heavy... except my life.

My life isn't "heavy" like a burden, there's just a LOT in it.

Like your favorite purse... it can be a lot to lug around, but you wouldn't DREAM of being without it or anything it contains!

So, since my last post of actual significance which was... hmmmm... let's see... August 16th! Agh! Shameful! Since then, a lot has transpired and I just haven't had the organization of thought to make it all presentable in a palatable manner. As a result... I am resorting to a list.

Disclaimer:
Due to the fact of linear thinking and a chaotic mind being mutually exclusive, this list is most certainly NOT in chronological order:

• On August 21st, Princess gave birth to our newest heifer: Rosalina. She's ADORABLE and is a constant source of smiles and general amusement. (No. I don't have a picture yet. BAD cow mom! I'll post one when I can get her to hold still long enough to snap a shot.) This brings our herd back up to four ladies. If Sparky doesn't throw a bull calf in February when she's due, we may have to resort to buying our beef. Yes, I know it's possible to "freeze" females... I just can't do it. I'm weird. I know. No shock there.

• We are now down to four cats. On October 24, we had to put down our oldest kitty, Houdini, aka: "Old Pet." It was difficult, but better for everyone in the long run. He was 15.

No, I won't be changing the name of the blog to Fabulous Four Cat Ranch. Lucky Seven it will remain because... well... I'm confused enough and it rolls off the tongue so nicely.

• I'm now buying our coffee beans green and (thanks to the tutelage of Lisa B.!) roasting them myself. It's fun, economical and STUPIDLY easy! I may have to do a tutorial post. If you only knew... You'd kick yourself. James has even gotten into helping out with the roasting from time to time. Purely due to his innate brilliance and good judgment he has become quite the roast master himself with virtually no help from me.

• Also, thanks to Lisa B., I am learning to make my own soap! It's so cool. She has these brilliant formulas she has devised herself and has kindly taught me how to prepare them. Chemistry is so cool! Don't be expecting a tutorial on soap making though as this is top secret, proprietary stuff and if I tell you how to do it, she'll have to kill me. If you would like to experience the loveliness and quality of Lisa's hand made soaps you can purchase them at her Etsy shop. Go there now! Christmas is coming, people!!

• Other ongoing projects: making my own pot cheese and Kombuch Tea. Both YUMMY and fun... though the whole Kombucha culture/mushroom/SCOBY thing vexes James. Yea, it's a little creepy looking while it's brewing, but it's SO GOOD and cheap to make as opposed to buying it. Example: At Whole Foods you can buy what I think is about a 12 oz bottle for around $2. I can make two gallons of the stuff for HALF THAT! Uh huh. That's what I'm sayin'.

• Since October 6th we have been making dinner for twelve every Monday and will continue to until at least the end of the year. Due to completely unfathomable and overwhelming circumstances, our Pastors' family has blossomed from four to eight... six of whom are teenagers. That's a pretty expensive endeavor on ministers' incomes, ya gotta admit. So, when the opportunity presented itself for us to contribute in the form of a dinner once a week, we jumped on it. Really, it's fun for us and such a blessing to get to do something so helpful for people who do so much for us. They are SO appreciative it makes us want to do even more. If only we could.

• We had yet another epic battle with the Tar Weed this year. Yuck! There is no magic bullet for this menace of Biblical proportions. It feels SO GOOD when we can finally mow it down in the Fall.

If anyone has advice for how to safely wipe this stuff out for good, please SPEAK UP!








• Anna got her Red Belt in Tae Kwon Do! So, yes, that does mean I travel with my own personal body guard. Don't let the sweet smile and angelic demeanor fool you...

If you're a board, she's lethal.

Lumber trembles at the sound of her name.

She has never missed a board break.

Her kihaps are a thing of fierce beauty. The stuff of legend around the dojo.

I'm glad she's on MY side!

Go, A-Bomb!!


• James had fun painting my hair for Halloween. We even thought briefly about doing something similar the next time I got my hair colored for real but wisely reasoned that much more than a week past October 31st it would cease to look cool and fun. Rather, I would take on the appearance of a soccer mom trying to pass as a rock star. Not pretty.

I stuck with the tried and true color combo and will keep my rock star fantasy safely confined to the shower.


• Under the heading of "Sometimes 'too good to be true' Really ISN'T" or: "God is totally mind-blowingly generous!" we found ourselves the fortunate recipients of a FREE SPA!!

Yes, you read correctly.

F-R-E-E

S-P-A

To make a VERY long story short... Our church owns a house that had a spa behind it that had to be removed or the insurance company wouldn't cover them.

In the weekly email mail bulletin, buried in the middle was a message that basically said, "if you want it, come get it and it's gotta be gone before the first week of November is up."

Well, as you can well imagine, we were all over that one like syrup on a pancake. We were the first to respond, thanks to the fact that I'm in front of my computer most of the day, and gave the spa a happy new home.

After investing in professional moving services (can you say 700 lbs!) and a small fortune in electrical wiring, breaker and a replaced power relay, it's up and running! Of course we had to shell out some cash to get it set up and working, but we would've had to do that even if we bought a brand new one so we're ecstatic... as are all of our parents' aching backs... :)

Gratitude? We're SOAKING IN IT!!


Well, folks, you are now officially up-to-speed on the dizzying swirl of excitement that is my blissful little life. :) Hope you're all well and happy out there in the blogosphere!

Cheers, Y'all!

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

My new favorite B&B!

Cozy!

Romantic!

Amazingly affordable!

Best of all...


...it is my very own bedroom!


There's much more updating to be done in the rest of the house, but I really wanted to pay proper tribute to James' and my Divine love affair by starting with our boudoir.

I surprised him with all the accessories, but we painted the room as a family weekend project and got it all done in a day! Go team!




Before: Like, yuck, man.



During: For your next home improvement project, I highly recommend child labor! They have a ball, work for potato chips and soda, and have no idea your totally exploiting them! Now that's what I call a "win/win!"



Ahhhhh... it's just so nice to have an actual grown-up's bedroom and not a storage room with a bed in it.

These little beads dangling off the burgundy *velvet* valance are so sweet,
they just make me tingly all over...



So TRUE!! The picture really doesn't do it justice. Rats.


I absolutely adore walking into our bedroom to the aroma of freshly cut roses and herbs! So rejuvenating and inspiring, I think.

For a couple hundred dollars and a little effort, I'm so pleased with the way it turned out. No, it'll never make it into Portland Spaces Magazine, but I could afford it and it just feels so much better. I absolutely love the way this room looks at night... especially from the outside.

I once walked up the path that runs in front of our house and peeked in the window to see this inviting nest aglow in soft candle light. I thought to myself, "Wow, that looks like a really lovely place to stay... I would love to spend the night here with my Honey... Hey! I can and will every single night of my life. Sweet!"

Slowly but surely, I'm living my dream. I am so blessed!

Folks, it's like the tag line on this blog says... "There is no place *but* home."

Make yours beautiful and inviting to you.


Up next: Operation Master Bath!!

Friday, May 23, 2008

A Late, Late Mother's Day Report

Yes, Angelina, I will be keeping the hat. We've had adventures together and now I can't bear to part with it. I knew you would especially appreciate a picture of me wearing it in a boat... drinking wine and eating chocolate... and, yes, even fishing... poorly.

Last Saturday, my wonderful family took me out to Camp Tilikum for a belated Mother's Day outing. Since *The* Mother's Day was spent honoring *our* moms, I was more than happy to wait for my day.

James did an excellent job of planning the whole thing and keeping it a secret from me. I *never* get to be surprised... being the mom and generally pretty observant, it's nearly impossible to keep me from figuring out what's going on, even when I don't want to know.

I had an idea of what he had in store for me, but nothing definite and certainly didn't know any details... and I loved it!

He packed a bag full of loveliness including wine, cheeses, bread, soda, water, ham and, of course, chocolate which we ate in a canoe while fishing in the lake! Well, Anna actually fished. I did my very best impression of a person who has been fishing maybe once in her life and slashed at the air with my pole while the fished mocked me openly.

Anna caught five fish.

All I had to show for my efforts was a lopsided sunburn on my right arm.

She was in her glory!

It was an amazing outing that was immediately followed by a trip to the Cameo to see Prince Caspian and dinner. A better day I cannot imagine. Very well worth the wait.

Thank you so much, my Darlings. I am so very Blessed.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

The Magnificents


For those of you interested in tales of our amazing, big, fat adventure with God, you can check it out at our new blog!

Sadly, since one can't rearrange posts, you'll need to scroll all the way down to start at the beginning, or click the link at the top of the side bar.


It's okay of you come by just to gawk... we know we're Freaks... but that doesn't change how cool it all is.

Peace, Y'all!

Monday, May 5, 2008

Happy Cinco de Mayo!



Which also means, Happy Anniversary Kelly and Laura! And thanks for making it so danged easy to remember. Smart thinkin'!

Lots more to post once I finally catch up from all the things I need to blog about!

In the mean time, enjoy the cheesy goodness of the above snippet of a under-appreciated classic.

Nachos anyone?!

Adios, Y'all!

Monday, March 3, 2008

Random Tidbits


Not that I need someone to get sick to make soup, but it is somehow more rewarding when a little girl with a sore throat requests it specifically. Poor Anna. Then, her dad was so insistent that said soup should be accompanied by warm, homemade bread he volunteered to help me make it all... DEAL! (You will NEVER catch me refusing help in the kitchen.)

Thanks to the culinary support, we were able to crank out some beautiful chicken soup which was fortified with the mashed potatoes and gravy from the previous night's roast chicken dinner. The gravy makes it sooooooo rich. YUM!!!

Also, I managed to make bread that didn't break my KitchenAid. So there's that. I didn't let it bake quite long enough though (it SMELLED done) so it's on the doughy side, but hey, the fam' loved it. Besides, what kid doesn't love doughy bread... look at Wonderbread's squeeze-it-and-it reverts-back-into-a-ball-of-dough popularity!

We even accomplished all this wonderfulness in record time... From cold, empty pots at 2:45 to hot soup-and-bready goodness at 6:30. Woo Hoo!


On a completely unrelated note... I also want to give a quick shout out to Bethany, Anna and Grace's beloved former piano teacher who came out from Utah for her baby shower last weekend. It was such a joy to spend time with her. Though certainly not the most satisfying visit, since we had to share her with, what, 25 or so other gals who were also excited to see her pregnant self, it is always glorious just to bask in her sweetness and light... even from across a crowded room.

Her tiny tummy belies the fact that her darling bundle is due at the end of next month and all moms-to-be should exude such grace and peace as she.

Bethany, I miss you so much and will be praying hard that Seth lands one of those Portland positions so we can get you back in the neighborhood. It would be so lovely to have time together just to visit and enjoy each other's company without you rushing off to your next student.

I can't wait to meet Baby Tippin whenever he or she arrives! (Go May 1!) I know you and Seth will be outstanding parents.

Peace, Y'all.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Walking In Your Footsteps...

...and trying not to trip in your very big shoes.



I would never dream of flattering myself by believing I could ever take my Grandmother's place in this world since her departure from it. However, since she left us about a year and a half ago, there are certain things that I feel compelled to do, have strong feelings about or have experienced that have the very distinctive "Esther Rueck" brand upon them. I sense her presence in a very tangible way when I do these things. It feels very right and like a natural progression for me to attempt to emulate her in their practice. As though the "torch has been passed." (This feeling is not diminished by the fact that I am her namesake, Esther being my middle name.)

Aside from when I'm brushing my teeth, a time when I am most aware of her is when I bake bread. Gran and I had sooo very many conversations about baking, but we never really got to do it together when I was old enough to actually know a little about what I was doing. We did lots of theorizing and comparing notes verbally though. So now since her departure, it doesn't matter what kind of bread I'm making, she's there with me.

That being said, you might imagine how much it meant to me when, upon pulling the new coffee maker my folks gave us from its box, I noticed an old yellow recipe card laying face down in the bottom of it. Since the box had never been opened, for a split second I thought Grannee had been up to her tricks again and miraculously dropped it in there for me to find... Upon an excited call to my mom, however, I learned that she had been startled to discover Grannee's Rye Bread recipe in an old canister she was about to give away...
*gasp!* that was close! ... and had wedged it under the lid of the box as a surprise.

She may as well have sent me a Portkey* to my Grannee's kitchen. I was giddy with excitement, but wanted to wait until I could give my full attention and focused intention on making this special, magical recipe for which my Grandmother was renowned. It was like no other bread you could get anywhere. Grandad always said it was better than cake... and he was right.

This bread was something much more than the sum of its ingredients. For her, it was a meditation. A profound demonstration of love for her family and guests... and you could taste it. We begged for this bread. No one ever felt the least bit gypped if they got it for Christmas in stead of some *thing*.

Everything that left her hands was completely imbued with love and intention. To both of my Grandparents, if anything was worth doing it was worth doing well and she had refined this basic human nourishment and item of sacrament to an art form... and the rest of us have never been able to duplicate it to her level of mastery.

It was her own special kind of magic.

This time, when I set out to make my attempt at Her Rye Bread, it wasn't with a recipe dictated over the phone and written in distracted haste, but with her very own card. Written in her own elegant hand. There are no instructions, just measurements of ingredients, temperature and cooking time. This card served only to jog her memory of the details of a process she could do in her sleep... and often did once she became too frail to wrangle heavy, awkward dough.

When she wrote this recipe down, her penmanship was still pristine, not ravaged by age and weariness. She was vibrant and brimming with passion, generosity and grace. I could feel her vivacity resonate as I carefully held this precious artifact as I read it, intense thoughts of her washing over me as I assembled the ingredients. I felt her standing right next to me and she was as excited as I was that we were *finally* getting to bake together. I couldn't stop myself from smiling and even let a little laugh escape my lips at how much fun we were having, the two of us.

As I prepared the dough, I could hear in my head little comments she had made to me over the years about how the dough should look or the fact that it's pretty sticky. I made only the tiniest adjustments based on my particular circumstances. Alterations with which I felt she would agree.
Though there is no way I would ever make notations on the recipe card. I'll keep those notes in my head for now.

I was so excited to give my little family a taste of Grannee's Rye Bread and every aspect of what that means. Yes, it's amazing in flavor and texture, very nutritious and its aroma is what I think Heaven must smell like, but mostly what I want them to taste is my intention, my meditation of love and the same blessing that Grannee put into everything she fed us.

The bread I made doesn't taste *exactly* like Grannee's but it's very, very close. I have only my hands, pans and slightly different ingredients to work with so, I guess it's becoming My Rye Bread now... but I will always bake it (and enjoy that first, warm heal) with Grannee.



* For you non-Harry Potter readers: a Portkey is an enchanted object, often a piece of supposedly worthless junk, which when touched will transport a person to a preprogrammed location.


Monday, August 13, 2007

An End To The Suspense!



A couple weekends ago, two very large clans converged and descended upon an unsuspecting Ft. Stevens.

The Umfleet tribe numbers 17. The Browns: 19, plus one girlfriend.

I'll wait here while you do the math...



Okay. Put your toes away. The total is THIRTY SEVEN. Between Umfleets, Darlings, Gilberts, Browns, Tywoniuks and Fennels we overtook the better part of a whole loop of hookups.

It was truly a family reunion as every single member of both clans was able to come. All the Umfleets hail from Oregon and live within about a three mile radius so that's not such a great feat. Not so with the Brown troupe. They came from Calgary and Ft. Macleod, Alberta, Canada and the Seven-Fennel's-Plus-One trekked all the way from Grand Forks, North Dakota! Now *that's* commitment to getting together!

Once the weather broke, we pretty much commandeered Coffinbury Lake. There were relatives as far as the eye could see.

Didn't get any pics of the ocean 'cause I forgot my camera when we went for a bike ride to the South Jetty, but it's probably a good thing. It turned into a nearly-nine-mile exercise in group dynamics whose final leg was about three miles of peddling on looser-than-expected beach sand. I would have been worried for my precious Kodak. GREAT workout, though, and miraculously, I survived it.

OH! And, the BIG NEWS, you ask?

Grace abandoned her training wheels!

Sorry, Beth, there is no third bun in the oven.


Not a tear, not a crash, not a "Daddy! Don't let go!!"
James just held her up by the back of her shirt long enough to get her balance and she was gone. After the first loop we instructed her about starting from a standstill and she virtually didn't stop riding until it was time to go home.

She did the ENTIRE big bike ride without a single whimper or complaint... though she did finally tire of waiting for me and came marching down the beach to walk bikes with Auntie Dawn and me. Pretty amazing for just barely five.

Well, I think so, anyway.

Wade, a Tywoniuk "second tier adult" (you can't call 'em kids anymore when they're, like, 20...) dubbed her "Gracie Pace Car" because she was always out in front. She didn't like the name until I explained to her was a Pace Car is. Then she thought it was totally cool, of course.

Everyone seemed to have a really great time.

I guess the kids did...

We almost never saw them except in multicolored blurs... either racing past our various camp sites on their bikes and scooters, or holed up in the darkness of Dawn and Jeff's tent, their faces recognizable only in the illuminating glow cast by their Nintendo DSes.

They would pop in occasionally for sustenance, however.

James and the girls even managed to squeeze in a shellfish extravaganza, I referred to fondly as the Exploding Crab Fest. You're not eating crab correctly if you don't end up with some pulverized crustacean shrapnel in your hair. Being allergic, I sat just out of range and enjoyed vicariously.

Oh, and of course, there was...

DUN! DUN! DUN!

The Camp Fire Hamburger!


Oregonzola Blue Cheese stuffed burgers topped with... ... BACON, Robusto cheese, dijon, Beth's homemade 'Chup and pickles on a toasted bakery sesame seed bun, washed down with some local Pinot.

Now THAT's camping, my friends!

Well, actually, it's not *camping* in my opinion of you're sitting just outside a 34 foot RV... but it's some danged fine outdoor dining!!



Up next: Beets the size of your head and the hazards of home electronics of planetary proportions...

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Forty Years to "Getting It" - Part Three


The last (?) in a series of long-winded expressions of gratitude.
Okay then!! Hopefully the pictures will stick this time.

Read on, Folks...


Before I even start, I want to apologize to my friends and family for the amount of time it has taken me to assemble this post. It's big. It's important. It took time to (hopefully) get it right. Your patience, and your presence in my life, are greatly appreciated.

WARNING! This is the longest post to date. If you plan to read it in one sitting, you may want to clear your schedule and grab yourself a hearty snack... and maybe a beer, too, just to be on the safe side.

It all started at Grace's Fifth Birthday Party in May.

During the course of the evening, the inevitable topic of my impending chronological progression cropped up. When you're nearing a benchmark year, it's to be expected.

The subject of The Party was soon raised and I informed *my gals* that James had asked me if I wanted a big party or a romantic getaway. When your husband asks you that question in a rare moment of quiet solitude together, of course you say "romantic getaway." However the spoiled little brat inside my head was jumping up and down screaming, "I WANT BOTH!!" (I lovingly refer to her as "Veruca.")

My sister-in-law, Dawn, piped up and said, "I don't THINK so! James can do the romantic thing. We'll throw you a party!" Veruca and I hopped around, clapping like a preschooler.

Beth chimed in with, "Hey, I want in on that!" and I'm pretty sure my sister-in-law, Betsy, and maybe Renee (it's hard to remember between my heightened state of excitement and a couple of glasses of Pinot under my belt, not to mention my advancing age) responded similarly.

I immediately began feverishly looking forward to this party!

These girls know what they're doing.

The next several weeks were shrouded in mystery. There was so much going on in our family, namely Dawn's family, that, had the whole event ended up getting scrapped in favor of a frustration-fueled kegger on my in-laws' pool deck, I would have totally understood.

Then, one glad morning in June, the email I had been so eagerly awaiting finally arrived.

It was from Dawn and she was asking for a guest list.

I was not allowed to ask questions, just fork over the names and contact info for the people I wanted to invite.

A few weeks later: my instructions plinked into my in-box.

"Saturday morning....just wake up, shower, get dressed in nice casual type clothes, and be ready by 9:45. At that time you will be notified of what to do next!" ("Saturday" meant the 7th of July. Yes, my birthday was June 20th, but like I said, folks were busy and that was the soonest it could happen. And, besides, 07/07/07! Common!! Postpone away, Dear People!!)

A couple of days before The Day... another email from Dawn. A list of (seemingly) random *getting to know you* questions. I laughed out loud. The woman has *known* me for 20 years. I figured it was mostly her way of finding out what coffee drink to order for me. So clever!

When the fateful day arrived, my beloved nephew, Jacob, Dawn's 17-year-old son, showed up on my doorstep at precisely 9:50 AM and presented me with two gift bags. One contained a glitter-encrusted tiara with the number 40 in a heart at it's pinnacle (which I was instructed to wear the entire day). The other, a pair of black, Nike flip flops (see opening photo).

He informed me my ride would arrive in about five minutes, hugged me, and dashed back out the door.

I was totally stoked! What a way to start this day!

Shortly before 10:00, Dawn, Betsy and my mom-in-law, Fran, picked me up and took me for... you guessed it... PEDICURES!! (My mom had planned to come but, sadly, wasn't feeling well and stayed home to rest in hopes of joining us later... which she did. Yea!)
Our toes hadn't been soaking more than five minutes when Jacob arrived with coffee drinks all around. How cool is that?!

We sat there and frantically attempted to arrive at a good name for our little group... well I did, anyway... I do stuff like that. We came up with a few really funny ones... none of which can I remember with any reliability at the moment, dang it.

I sure hope I'm not already having "Senior Moments!" YIKES!


But, I digress...

With toes polished and calves amply massaged, we piled back into the van and headed to Fran and Doug's back yard for a beautiful brunch.

Fran's homemade raspberry jam from just a day or two before, scones, three kinds of chicken sausage, juice, fresh fruit... it was heavenly.

Before we could dig in in earnest, my little brother, Kelly's wife, Laura, peeked around the corner, and gleefully joined in the proceedings.

Sister-in-law (I have a *lot* of sisters-in-law), Linda, who had been quietly working behind the scenes, and Jacob, enjoyed the delicacies with us until it was time to head out once again.


This time, Jacob offered me his arm and handed me yet another gift bag containing two organic dark chocolate bars and a magazine article I was not yet allowed to read. He escorted me back to the van, very gentlemanly open the passenger door and deposited me inside, then took his place at the wheel. At this point, he's reeking of "Designated Driver" and I have a pretty strong feeling that we're going wine tasting! YESSS!

Laura, Dawn, Betsy, Fran and I continued the festivities with our first stop at Domaine Serene. Jacob dutifully escorted us to the tasting room, took some pictures, then planted himself in the shade while we sampled expensive wine on the majestic hill-top.

It was all quite a lot for me to absorb. Such an open and genuine expression of love and affection had me rather overwhelmed. Tearful.

It hit me, with full force, exactly how much love surrounds me every day of my life. Don't get me wrong. It's not like I've felt *unloved* or on the outside all these years, but I never, fully *got it,* to the marrow of my bones, until the drive to the first winery.

I felt sick to my stomach. It was almost like I couldn't accept such an outpouring directly focused on me. And, I think the thing that was as hard to absorb as anything was that my 17-year-old nephew chose to be such an integral part of this day. He had to work later and could have chosen to do anything else with his precious free-time. He wasn't coerced or guilted into it by his mom. He wanted to be there and expressed to me his sincere disappointment at having to miss everything that would come after he left for work.

I love all my nieces and nephews like they're my own, but Jacob has always had a very special place in my heart. On this day, I definitely felt like I also have a special place in his.

I banished the thoughts and feelings of unworthiness, claimed my gift from my amazing family and, finally, the acute nausea that threatened to undermine all their efforts subsided. We then carried on, with great relish, to the next stop: Wine Country Farm.

Here we enjoyed a vast array of wines in a more casual, unpretentious venue. The setting was warm and relaxing as we tasted about 10 different wines... everything from Pinot Gris to Pinot Noir and a Late Harvest Müller Thurgau that really caught my attention.
Just as we were wrapping things up, I thought, buying wines we liked and getting ready to move on, Jacob, once again, offers me his arm and hands me an open bottle of the Pinot Noir upon which I had, only moments ago, commented favorably.
He escorted me to a most beautifully vine-enshrouded gazebo that had been *mysteriously* well-appointed with a host of wine-friendly delights. Triple-Cream French Brie (my favorite!) crusty bread, huge, sweet grapes, chocolate... so many things I like enjoyed in the company of, and thanks to, a good sampling of my favorite people on the planet.

It was mind-boggling.
Once again, I was nearly moved to tears.

It was hard to leave such a pastoral and soothing scene when it was time to go, but there were more joy-filled experiences to be had.


Jacob and the gals deposited me back at home with instructions to take it easy and cool off for a couple of hours while preparations were polished off up the hill at Doug and Fran's. I was to report in at 5:00.


As I rested in the semi-coolness of my bedroom and listened to the kids playing in and around my house, I continued to attempt to comprehend all the effort so many people had exerted to make a party, that actually was more on the scale of a bridal shower and wedding reception, for me.

In the days leading up to the event, I remember observing my father-in-law string-trimming the edges of their yard where the juniper bushes meet the front field and recognizing why. "He's getting ready for my party" I realized to myself with a broad smile and a very warm feeling.

James was given assignments by the crack team of party planners known as Betsy, Dawn and Fran, which he dutifully carried out to his usual level of precision and expertise... in addition to the things he already had in mind to do.

A veritable banquet was planned, prepared and laid out by many, many loving hands.

The pool was cleaned and treated and cleaned again to make sure it was at its pristine, refreshing best by the time the guests arrived.

Game courses were set up and meandered across acres. Lights were strung, flowers snipped and floors mopped in a flurry of preparation...

... All because I made it to 40 and they love me.

Wow.

At the appointed hour, I strolled leisurely up the hill to see the guests from my list begin
slowly trickling in. My brothers and their families, my folks, Uncle Monte, the Foxes, the Skaggses, Londons, Phillipses, Havleneks and the whole Umfleet clan... everyone who could be there, eventually, was.

Friends and family played together, talked, laughed, swam and of course, ATE with rapturous abandon.

All together, there were 40 people in attendance, the number a coincidence, I can assure you, but a fun bit of trivia nonetheless.



As the evening wore on, all the planning and execution of culinary perfection reached its moment of glory. Dinner was served!

When this group gets together, you better be packing an empty stomach and a clear artery or two because we know how to cook.

There were *five* chickens and a spiral-sliced ham roasted on Dawn and Jeff's Traeger grill, two kinds of potato salad, bruschetta and mushroom caviar on crusty bread, baked beans... oh, goodness, there was so much amazing stuff I can't even remember it all. My apologies to everyone whose contribution to the loveliness my lagging mind is omitting. It was all phenomenal!
The sunset was one befitting such an awe-inspiring day, the surrounding hills and trees striking sharp silhouettes in its vibrant pinks, oranges, and pale blues.

Perfect.



Eventually, there was, of course, dessert! Five or six kinds, as I recall. And me with only one stomach. DANG!
Farm Girl does like her sweets.



Beth's Chocolate and Vietnamese Coffee Tart, or "Chocolate Porn" as I dubbed it, was this chocoholic's highlight of the dessert buffet... which is saying something next to Fran's Spelt Chocolate Cake. (Spelt flour makes *the best* chocolate cake ever. You should try it.)


With sugar comas at full tilt, it was time for gifts... and there were some great ones!

My brother, Doug, and his wife, Paula, (yes, *another* sister-in-law) gave me a very clever gift of forty little pieces of paper with different facts about my birth date written on them, each one rolled around a one-dollar bill. Topping it off was the brilliantly chosen card that played "Everybody Wang Chung Tonight!" Sweeeeeeeet.


There were candles, and pasta bowls and bottles of wine and bath salts, a kickin' purse, home-canned preserves... each item as well-thought-out and appreciated as the last.

The unavoidable, core-jarring truth here is: These people *get* me.

No matter how loved, accepted, protected we feel, how often are we actually convinced that the people in our lives really know what makes us tick? I mean, are they really tuned-in to what's knocking around inside our cranium?

Well, this event and all the days since May leading up to it have crystallized for me, in no uncertain terms, that my people do know exactly what I'm all about.

I could not have planned a more satisfying experience had I spent weeks on the endeavor personally. But beyond the amazing events of the day, I am most grateful for finally *getting it* myself. The *spiritual two-by-four-upside-the head* realization of the depth and breadth of how much I am loved. There is no better gift.

For all the words the English language lays at my disposal, I still run out of all the right ones to express my gratitude. I use that word a lot as I feel it is one that best expresses my perpetual state of being, but it never seems to communicate quite enough.

How do I tell so many people in a few feeble syllables that your verbalized and wordless expressions of love have reached those dark little pockets of my soul that I never quite realized needed filling until you touched my life?

I can say, "I am finally glimpsing how much God loves me through your unending support and continual demonstrations of kindness and generosity" but the words can't ever fully transmit how it feels in my being.

All I can do is live in hope that you all grasp just how much I love you and how grateful I am for you and all the things you do. Great and small.

Now, at the end of all the celebrating, and about *ten pounds fluffier* for it, I will carefully guard the "Tiara of Forty-Tude," until the day in the not too distant future when I can dutifully bestow it upon Dawn...

...It may be hard for me to part with, though. It goes so smashingly with my overalls...

I only hope I can recreate for her the kind of experience she orchestrated for me. She's one tough act to follow.
07/07/07 was as perfect a day as the number would promise. It was, in a word, transcendent. I will cherish the memory until the day they plant my thoroughly-spent carcass in the good, sweet earth... after which, I can only imagine, there will be yet another great party.


So, now you know why I so confidently assert that "I am the luckiest girl in the world..." though, "blessed" might be a better choice of words...

It only took 40 years, but I'm glad I finally *got it*.