Her Gray and Yellow Room

Abby was tired of her light pink bedroom. She pleaded with us to change things up. It took a while, but eventually we complied, and she is happy. Very happy.

She had had enough of her white headboard with girly flowers and swirls. So, we dragged this one out of storage and had it painted bright yellow--Abby's choice of course. I bought the chair at a yard sale years ago for only $1. We had it painted as well. 

This photo makes me want to add two more frames to those three above her headboard. I am also reminded that I have yet to make the cushion for her window seat. I've had the foam for it for over a year, but my procrastination shows my desire for a magic wand.

The other side of Abby's room is retro-fun. For Christmas Kellie bought Abby this old art desk and stool that was being discarded from the high school where Kellie has been interning as a Chemistry teacher this year.

Ironically, at about the same time, Abby's geography teacher was getting rid of this Cold-War era map of Europe and Abby begged to take it home.

Abby is finally content with her room--especially when a feline friend visits.

December Days

December and the old year are quickly coming to a close.

2013 has taken these two down very different paths than the ones they anticipated.

Travis, too, has had a significant let-down, but my kids are OK and generally happy and I couldn't be more proud of who they are and who they are striving to become.

Travis built a roaring fire on Christmas Eve.

Evidently he is the master pyrotechnician at all scout campouts.

The kids insisted on roasting marshmallows. They had a tough time keeping a comfortable distance from the white-hot flames.

Christmas morning we woke the kids up around 8:00 am, texted Grandma S. to come on over, ate homemade popovers, and opened presents. In the afternoon we ventured to Grandma W's and visited with lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins.

(Grandma W.)

(Mark and Susan)

(Heather and Kellie)

Smiles for 2013 and smiles for the new year to come!

Dear Rachel (#19)

Dear Rachel,

It is now officially winter, but we've had snow on the ground for weeks.

During the day the sun's radiation usually burns the snow completely off the drive way and creates impressive icicles on our eaves that have pulled down the top row of our Christmas lights.

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Our fall birthdays are now complete. The gifts you sent the kids were so thoughtful and perfect. Travis opted for cake bites from The Sweet Tooth Fairy for his "birthday cake". The red velvet ones are his favorite.

I can hardly believe your "little" brother is now 18!

Abby's eyes . . . typical. For HER birthday, she chose her usual--your dad's homemade rice pudding.

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The church Christmas party landed on Abby's birthday this year AND she had a soccer game so we partied all day.

It seems that no matter how old you get, if crayons and paper are placed in front of you, doodling must occur. Abby drew a man with a mustache

while Travis drew a floating car.

They were both so thrilled with their artwork that when the party was over, they dismantled the "tablecloth" and taped their creations to our refrigerator. It's been a while since we've had kid art on our fridge.

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It's hard to believe that it has been almost a year since I was called as our Stake Young Women's President. Did I ever introduce you to these amazing women I get to work with?

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We will really miss having you and David here for Christmas this year. At least, we'll get to see you this summer. For now, enjoy this snowy view of home from our front yard.

 We love you LOTS and LOTS. Merry Christmas!

Love,
Mom

My House Has Stars

My House Has Stars
by Abby

My house has trees, many kinds of trees and plants. Aspen and maple stand, their branches protruding and bearing glorious leaves that fill the ground and sky with arrays of color in the fall. Ivy crawls along weathered brick and flowers purple in the spring. Bushes grow along the perimeter, slowly lighting fire in the fall. Their red and pink leaves cast shadows in the evening. My house has trees.

My house has cats. They find nooks and crannies to curl up into. Sleeping the day away. Their fur is soft and their eyes are bright. Always searching for their prey, they scan keenly the area and often spot a mouse lying in the grass. They sometimes bring them home as presents. One is young and spry and was not long ago a kitten. She jumps and plays with anything that moves. The other is old and wise and never is too energetic, he watches and observes. But the oldest and wisest of all is always outside. He never leaves the rose bushes, or the soil where they are grounded. But silently he watches and observes beneath the shadows of the towering aspen trees. My house has cats.

My house has stars. They gaze at me in the night. Glowing green, yellow, orange and pink. They steal the light from the sun and gather energy from the light bulbs. On my ceiling they wait until night comes, where they can shine and release the stolen energy. But they glow for me at night scaring away the monster and demons that have barbed tails and gleaming teeth. So I lay there every night, underneath the stars. My house has stars.

Winter is . . .

a snowy blanket,

billowing loaves,

failed divinity the texture of silly putty,

and icicles at sunset.

Winter, I will look for your beauty.

     

Don't Mess With Tradition

Sound advice, really, yet this year all of our usual Thanksgiving guests had other obligations for the big feast--even the Grandmas. Once I realized it would be just the five of us, all kinds of nontraditional holiday options swirled through my mind. We could go for a hike, take in a movie, and even EAT OUT for our festive meal.

Perhaps I could have a real day of rest? No rising at the "crack of dawn" to chop onions and celery for stuffing, no peeling of potatoes, and no raw bird to primp and prepare--such holiday luxury! Surprisingly, the kids actually agreed to something different as long as my homemade stuffing and King's Arms Tavern Sweet Potatoes were prepared and consumed at some point during the week. 

A few days before Thanksgiving (at our customary Sunday dinner with the Grandmas) we had our pseudo Thanksgiving feast. Grandma S. brought her heavenly potato rolls (my personal Thanksgiving favorite) and Grandma W. brought her delicious chiffon pumpkin pie. A Costco roasted chicken was our nod to poultry.

The plan for Thanksgiving day was to go out to lunch at one of our favorite local restaurants, take in a movie, and enjoy our other two must-have pies later in the evening.

Even the best laid plans tend to go awry, and they certainly did for us. All of our favorite restaurants were CLOSED on Thanksgiving day and those that were open were only serving a "special turkey buffet." However, we simply wanted to enjoy the establishment's usual fare because our taste buds had already been satisfied with our own familial holiday food.

Nix the idea of going out for Thanksgiving dinner.

Instead, I tried a brand new recipe--Slow Cooker Chicken Tikka Masala. Ooh, it was delicious, but suddenly our holiday meal became just like any other weeknight dinner.

While the chicken and spices were melding in the crockpot we did take in a movie--Wreck-It Ralph. We let Abby choose. The other two weren't super excited about this kid movie, but it really was quite good.

What did we do when we got home?

Watched football, of course, in our almost finished and remodeled basement. According to Travis, "watching three games of football is the most American way to spend Thanksgiving."

Luckily, the day did end in a more traditional way with Kellie's freshly baked pecan and apple pies. For the first time in years every bite of that fabulous pecan pie was savored and relished because I wasn't so stuffed when I ate it.

Sure, it was a relaxing day. We even played some games as a family, but retrospection (that wise old friend) visited as I was preparing for bed. At least one of my offspring was obviously NOT happy with the day. The other two seemed fine, but some how Thanksgiving wasn't an exceptional day. Without that extra effort in food preparation, without those special friends and family guests, it seemed like any other day of the year.

Certainly, it was more relaxing for me, but is that what Thanksgiving is all about? Perhaps the sacrifices involved in a traditional celebration are a way of expressing my gratitude and my love for all that I have and for all that surrounds me?

This year I learned a lesson and I made a resolution. No matter how few of us are left at home, Thanksgiving will be celebrated in our family's traditional way. We will invite lonely neighbors, coworkers, roommates, and distant relatives--whomever it takes--to fill our home and table. It will involve days of hard work, but it will definitely be worth it.

After all, one does not mess with tradition!

Nature's Voice

Whenever I walk out my front door, these gorgeous trees greet me with their pop of pink. It's as if they are overjoyed at the prospect of spring and are just bursting to let the world know.

"For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." (Isaiah 55:12)

Dear Rachel (#7)

Dear Rachel,

As you know, your Dad traveled to Geneva, Switzerland and then to England last week. My only request (besides that he come home safely) was that he bring me some Swiss chocolate. He generously obliged.

I also asked him to take some photos with his iPhone while in Europe. He was pretty busy, but he tried. This one was my favorite. It is of Taunton School where he spent a day.

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I bought the fabric for this pillow almost two years ago and finally finished it. Thanks for walking me through (on the phone) how to make your fabric flowers. 

It is meant to coordinate with the other pillows I made for my room.

Here is my newly "refurbished" reading nook. (Actually, it is where I sprawl in the mornings to play Words with Friends and where I do a bit of reading.)

There is one last thing I want to show you--a pillow cover I made from a too-small DownEast basics skirt of Abby's. Luckily, this time I didn't have to make the flowers. I carefully removed them from the skirt and basted them on.

I think I have a bit of a throw pillow obsession. Do you need any for your apartment?

Love you and David lots!

Mom