Prayer of Thankfulness

Good Morning Lord,

Today is my anniversary. Wow, thirty-two years. How could someone as young as me be married that long? Anyway, I'm feeling so grateful and blessed.

Handy Man and I both knew and understood commitments. When I got married, I believed I would be married a long time. Both sets of parents modeled that kind of commitment for us and for that I am grateful.

The surprise is how happy I am about it. Who knew you could still be so content in a love that began at sixteen? I had no idea that I would still find such joy in this place called marriage. It is a bit miraculous still to me after all these years. As you know, we are so opposite in so very many ways that it is laughable. But in lots more ways I'm grateful for the inverse nature of our ways.

Just recently I saw something made from a piece or two of wood that I loved. Now, I could not produce a respectable child's building block from a chunk of wood, much less something beautiful and functional. But Lord, you put such art in those hands of his. After my request, he disappeared into his workshop and returned first with a pattern, then with the product, beautiful and functional and just what I wanted. Amazing.

I loathe errand running. In my mind, all jobs must be lined up in an order that makes sense to me, and if you have to stop to do some little something else, I'm all snorty and dismayed. Not this guy, he'll go to the store for me three times. He much prefers to avoid snorty and dismayed. I love that.

Though I desire to do big physical jobs, I have always been lousy at it, as I have pitiful arm strength. The mulch, pots, hoses, kid's yard toys, boxes for showers, teas, celebrations that poor man has drug around is impressive. To me, he is Hercules.

I'm the cook usually, and any day he would choose my meals over his, but it doesn't keep him from trying to get a meal on the table when I'm still chained to my classroom desk at six o'clock. He's right, it isn't as tasty as mine, but you know what, when it's six o'clock and I've just gotten home for an eleven hour day, I think it's dee-wish-us.

Somehow, Handy Man doesn't feel the need for church that runs deep in my veins. Still, there he is every Sunday, right beside me. Does that make you smile too?

He wasn't much of a kid person either, whereas my life has been my children, their children and lots and lots of other children. Again, he if faithful with hugs and kisses and a snuggle with any little one who like his attention.

Soft drinks have never been on his list of good things to drink. Me, there is nothing much better than a fountain Diet Coke. How many times does one seem to appear out of nowhere. And, if it is really a no good, terrible very bad day, it is a Big Red ( the one much better)!

You've grown a sixth sense in him Lord and it's precious. He often knows when to close his book because I could use a snuggle, when we need to call out for pizza, when a bubble bath is in order, when one more errand needs done.

When my feelings are hurt, I love how he threatens to bust their chops! Probably you aren't so crazy about that, but I like it I'm afraid.

Lord, I could keep going ( what, you say you aren't surprised). So, I guess I want to close by saying the best part. The best part is, at then end of the day, a great one or a wearisome one, there is no place I would rather be than in his arms. What a great gift to fall asleep each night wrapped in such warm love.

I didn't deserve such a gift as Handy Man. I wish everyone had such a gift.

Thank you!

Happy Anniversary to my Handy Man I love you!

One Happy Handy Man

This morning we headed out to the Farmer's Market and loaded up eggplant, corn, apples, tomatoes, cucumbers and butternut squash. I'm still getting tomatoes, but not enough to

satisfy two little tomato monsters of mine. Bean and Bugg will eat two or three at each meal.

I also picked up a loaf of sourdough bread to make my tomato/cucumber/basil bread salad that I'm not ready to say good-bye to just yet. That is about my favorite summertime treat. I won't be sad to enjoy another BLT or two either.

Then we were off to a little small town festival down the road a piece. A guy Handy Man works with came by this week to pick up a couple of big trees we lost in past ice storms. This fellow's brother has several antique steam engines. They go to these shows and demonstrate how the steam engines powered saws and threshers. So we went today to stroll around and then bring home a truckload of Handy Man's trees fresh from the sawmill.

I love that future toys and furniture for our kids and grands will come from trees right off their Gramerly and Pap's place. I believe I saw him salivate when he saw that pile of wood. He came straight and home and took proper of care of it and it is all put away to season. It makes me happy to see him so happy. He figured he would've had to pay about $1500 for that much lumber. Quite a prize for a woodworker. I can't wait to see what it will become.

Christmas Waiting

So yesterday was our long awaited family party. It seems a long time in coming this year, as we had a big surprise for our grown-up kids.

First things first. I hung a blanket between the kitchen and living room, so the gifts were out of sight. We munched on appetizers and had our last Advent. Each child's family in turn lit the candle. The Advent focus was on thankfulness, so we each shared things for which we were thankful.

1st Lt. 's Family

Bean is old enough to do the honor.

Drummer Boy's family

Rae-Rae and Michael showing signs of their upcoming family.

Better blow out the candles before moving onto gifts.

Handy Man has made a cradle each time one of his own starts a family, along a few other odds and ends. A few years ago his niece, Old Mother Hubbard, commissioned a set of barrister bookcases. Since then, I've thought it would be nice for each of our kids to have something that would be in use all the time,from their daddy, as opposed to a cradle, that often ends up stored. So, he started on the bookcases months and months ago and trying to keep it secret has been difficult. Throughout the year, I picked up books,as I found them, that I thought would be of high interest. We are all big readers around here, and lots of our conversations are around a book someone is reading. A bookcase seemed a most appropriate gift.

I am sorry to not yet have a whole picture. When I was downloading the piks today, I noticed that the full length ones include a reflection of me, uh, in my nightgown. I won't be posting those.

These are the type of bookcases where the glass panel on the front swings up and slides back into the case.

Not only were they made by their Daddy, the wood came from a tree that fell in area after a tornado. That old cherry tree has been turned into some beautiful wood furniture. There's enough left for one more cradle.

Lots of merry making and good times.

Houston, We Have a Floor

While Pappy and Buttercup and I picked pumpkins, threw rocks in the creek, fed the chickie girls some wood sorrel and had multiple long swings in Old Blue Dolphin, Drummer Boy finished the floor and 1st Lt. came and nodded his approval.

A much deserved rest and a Popsicle.

Not too shabby from woodshed remnants.

It is beautiful. Many thanks my Handy Man Husband and my Handy Man Boys. I said I might just leave it just like this and be a Shaker for awhile. It is very peaceful room at the moment.

Rae Rae phoned at noon from Scandinavia saying they had arrived safely and it is 6 pm there.

My next post will show off my baby brother and his new bride. I must be making tracks to the wedding.

Welcome to the Squatley's

Please do not stop by to visit.

My couch is on the front porch. It's lovely wondering what the neighbors are saying as they drive in and out.

This getting a new floor is a bit of a long and drawn out process.

First, how to use the wood we have. 1st Lt and Drummer boy came up with a plan. Here you see the border.That's oak and then a dark cherry strip.

How many Paris boys does it take to put in a wood floor? Three generations of backsides here. This has been so interesting to watch. Handy Man has always been the go-to guy for whatever projects the boys have found themselves involved over their head in, which seems to be something they do a lot (a trait I fear they inherited-from their mom). This time, wood flooring experience is on their side, so they are directing the Pappy-O. It's kind of neat to have a floor that all four of them had a hand in.

Whilst the menfolk are working, I'm in charge of feeding the masses and entertaining the girls. Growing and cutting playdough hair was the activity of the evening.

Snip, snip.

I called Kaye after work. She answered and sounded pitiful, wouldn't talk to me and handed the phone to Pete. Apparently, no new news, as they are still waiting to see a line of demarcation showing where oxygen has stopped. She is entirely miserable. So, on it goes until the next appointment on Tuesday.

One of students said to me yesterday, "When I grow up, I'm going to be a teacher and my room will look exactly like this one." Sweet.

Uh, Blek

1st Lt. has a flooring company and we've been host to some leftover flooring for sometime, like a year. We host a lot of 1st Lt. projects, mostly wee folk, but dogs, trailers, vans, boats, to name a few- I digress. Anyway, since our carpet is very old and this wood flooring is wasting away in the back of the Cluckingham Palace, we decided to put in a new floor. Strange how quickly life flips around on you. Now 1st Lt. and Drummer Boy are bossing me and Handy Man around.

" This quarter round, this paint, this design," period the end, with a "I mean, you can do whatever you want," tacked on. Cracks me up! 1st Lt. has been doing this awhile and bringing Drummer Boy right along with him, and Rae-rae too, who gave a ten minute sermon on the virtues of wood flooring when I nearly backed out of doing it ALL in wood. So, since we've made no changes here in like a hundred years, well fifteen, I'm going to trust them-Silken Touch paint it will be.

Of course the old carpet has to come out. Bean now knows how to take off this wood strip with a little pry bar thingy and a hammer-be still my heart. Love that boys heart, he did almost the whole room by himself.

Handy Man reported that the floor was a lot further down than it used to be.

You know the carpet can't go and the wood flooring come without moving out all the stuff. This very nearly makes me ill. I have a lot of stuff and I like it left where I put it. I don't like anyone moving my junk around. The last time, when they put in a new kitchen/family room floor, I nearly despaired from living in spot of about 8 by 10 feet for several weeks. When I needed milk, I had to go down the hall, through the front door, around the house, onto the back porch, then back-good times. I felt like a pioneer. Now I can even run over to Cluckingham Palace and chop the head off a chicken, except I don't chop heads, or anything else off chickens. I would not have been a good pioneer. I am not a good pioneer now. Where will I sit in the morning when the sun peeks over the trees and lights the room where I'm reading my scripture and sipping warm coffee. It won't be the same anywhere else. Have mercy, what a whiner. I'll try to cultivate some thankfulness that I have some coffee to sip and get over my bad self.

Still no word on how things will proceed with Kaye's foot. We are all sick, but Pete most of all.

He has tried so very long and hard to move her forward and this certainly feels like a backslide.

I ordered some new games for home and school. Along with pioneering, I'm not great at games either. A couple of these, made my some German guy who is obviously way smarter than me, were a bit complicated for my taste. Michael and Rae-rae came and showed us how to play. It was fun.

I'll take a picture and share about them another time.

A Sweet Meal

You know the first week back at school is kinda crazy. I always come home very late and completely exhausted. Handy Man was kind enough last evening to have dinner going when I got home- smoked sausage and cabbage. Apparently, he thought he'd use the trusty ol' Mrs. Dash for a bit of flavoring. In perusing the spice cabinet, he grabbed what he thought to be a familiar looking bottle and proceeded to douse the cabbage. It was candy sprinkles, not Mrs. Dash! He declared, "Well, it had one of those sprinkle tops like Mrs. Dash." I said, "Yes, as do most all the other bottles in the spice rack." I was glad he told me, cause I would've of worried that we were ingesting some multi-colored mold on the old cabbage. A little salt, pepper and seasoning and all was well with the meal I only needed to add a finishing touch to. Not everyone has such a colorful dinner I bet. Thanks honey. I so appreciate the effort.

Sweetest Day

As I sat down to eat my blueberry pancakes, lovingly prepared for my Valentine breakfast by my favoritest Handy Man, I spied yet another present outside the window. Won't they be glorious in the garden with some thick vegetation winding all around, making a wonderful hiding place inside the foliage? I need that visual as winter has seem to settle in for the long haul.
It was a sweetest kind of day. I made dumplings and two of my favorite dumplings with 1st Lt. in tow, and a good friend, came to join us.
My friend brought the most adorable wee book about blue and red and green happy bugs, invaded by a big, black, unfriendly bug they manage to rid themselves of rather quickly. I've thought of it several times and smiled, remembering Bean, hanging on each word, and asking for clarification about anything he didn't understand. Then he gave reading it a go.
He and 1st Lt. have finished Huck Finn, so Treasure Island was chosen for their next read. That was 1st Lt.'s favorite book as a boy. Bean asked me to read the first chapter. You can't get one unknown word or phrase past him without giving an explanation. Not that I want to. I work all year on trying to get my fourth grade students to stop, make connections, and try to ascertain from context the meaning of word. If that fails, at least ask. This grandboy of mine is going to have a whopping vocabulary.
I bought a little Snow White slap bracelet for Missy Bugg. I didn't realize she'd never seen Snow White. She was quite smitten with the princess.
Saturday I spent with Mom. Since the shot for her knee, she is getting around a bit better. She only coughed once the whole time I was there and no shakes, not as much swelling. It was comforting to see her a bit improved. I gave Handy Mans's Mom and her some little Jiffy Greenhouses and seeds. Both are lovers of growing things. Tis the season for hope.
A favorite saying, "Who plants the seed beneath the sod, and waits to see, believes in God."
I also bought some for my self. I am ever impressed by the possibility within a tiniest seed.

After Mom's I stopped by for a visit with Ol' Mother Hubbard, to give Miss Linee her birthday present and a valentine for all. Miss Linee seems so grown-up for two. She is so very adorable, as they all are. I spent a lot of time with her Mama when she was two. Of all the poopies, she reminds me most of my niece. I can eat her up with spoon-precious.

More snow today. The chickie girls are not amused.

So Beautiful

With a flash. It's walnut

Without a flash makes it look like cherry

Next to me, his kids, their kids, the chickie girls and a cigar (I won't be so bold as to say in that order, though I like to think so), Handy Man loves to work with wood. Someone donated a wood stove for his garage and for Christmas I bought him a fan that sits on it to spread the heat around. So he's spent some free hours this winter working on this piece.

I take pretty good pictures of babies and chickie girls, but I haven't figured out the knack for furniture photography. The picture never looks as good as the actual piece. I think it's beautiful.

Happy Birthday Ol' Betsy

When Mister Bean was about two, we started watching Davy Crockett. He quickly became a huge fan. Every girl in his life was Becky, and every stick his gun Betsy, every guy Davy's sidekick Georgie, and, for about two years, we had to call him Davy.

At the time of his birth he had six grandmas. In order to tell us apart, we took different names. He has a Oma, a GiGi, a Granny Wandy, Grandma Betty and me, Gramerly (His great, great grandma has sinced passed away). Well, one time he got a little confused an referred to his Pap's mom as Ol' Betsy. As his grandparents, of course, we thought it adorable, but I wasn't sure how Grandma Betty would feel. Handy Man couldn't help himself and just had to tell on Bean. Well, she graciously accepted the moniker gifted by her first great grand boy. Today is her birthday.

So, Happy Birthday to you Ol' Betsy!! We hope it is a happy one.

Since she loves Lemon Pie, I made her one. She also feels some serious affection for bourbon balls, as does her son. The plan was to have them for Christmas. Ummm, why do I make plans?

Handy Man thought he'd help, then thought maybe he wouldn't-yucck.

"Okay, I smiled nicely for the first picture, now quit already." " No one needs to know that I licked the bourbon ball bowl clean."

P U at the Palace

Hmm, wind, rain, sleet and snurries made little time for chickie girls to be out and about this week, so Cluckingham was a little smelly. All it takes is turning over the litter and opening the front and back doors and the P U is gone. Wish all P U's in life were so easily dealt with, don't you?
I was fairly determined, when I got the girls, to be the primary coop cleaner. Handy Man is as unaccustomed to seeing me wield a shovel as I am in wielding one. I know people have issues with it, but we just never have. I do the traditional girl stuff, and he does the traditional guy stuff. I'm just not in anyway insulted by him scraping my wind shield, starting my car and toting all the heavy stuff. It doesn't hurt his feelings to find his supper on the table and clean socks and underwear appear on his bed, placed there no doubt, by the good laundry fairy. So, when I clean the coop, Handy Man just stands and looks at me-the whole time. He's waiting, I know, for the familiar, "Gee, this is heavy," or " Aghhh, there's a mouse, snake, wildebeest (you get the idea) in these poopy chickie wood chips." Alas, far too familiar, " Ummm, I don't want to do this anymore." Then he will save me, just like in the fairytales, just like in our daily living.
I am of a grateful heart for all this saving through the years, but in the hen house, I persevere and he watches, that sweet man.

Handy Man models Christ to me in that way. My decisions, to do things on my own in my own way, aren't always as purposeful as coop cleaning. When it gets too heavy, when I come to my senses, and realize my idea wasn't such a good one, I turn to One who hasn't forgotten, but was just waiting and watching, ever forgiving and loving.

I love that I can celebrate Him where I work. This week was the Christmas Musical. I'm sort of in charge of the drama, costumes, etc. I mean, seriously, it was the sweetest play. The message was the one of our hearts and has a place in our school, but especially sweet, because two students, no one would've expected to find on stage, were the stars.

I have always had a heart for little boys that most teachers, people in general, find a bit out of control. I have no clue why. I really have to fight all year to not play favorites. I got a little guy this year, who came with a reputation. My school is small and we all know each other, so every time I talked to the parents through the years, they would say, " Just wait till you get Mr. Question Man!!!." I replied, "I am not scared." Now, he can't easily let anything go, and he thinks I am his personal encyclopedia, but I love this boy.
Crazier still, is the way I love quiet, backward, hard working girls. Ummm, no idea. Of course, I always have at least one and this year was no exception. My little wallflower would easily fade herself right into the woodwork, just working her fanny off and being good.
Mr. Question desperately wanted a part in the play and Wallflower wanted no part in being front and center. So, I threw caution to the wind, asking myself, "Where else will Mr. Question be allowed this opportunity?" Then, I shamelessly pulled that, "I will do anything for you teacher" card on Wallflower, and she reluctantly acquiesced. Both of them shocked and amazed us all, in addition to making us all cry.
I'm crazy over nativity sets, and have too many, of every make and model, but no matter how they appear, every Joseph I snuggle in the straw with Mary and the baby will wear the face of my sweet boy, Mr. Question. Each time I see Hawaiian stuff, Wallflower's beautiful face will be on my mind. Precious!

14 to 16 eggs a day this week. The girls knows we're getting ready for Christmas