Can You Feel It?

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 25

Can you feel it?

Thanksgiving is behind us and the Christmas season is upon us.  There is electricity in the air.  Colder weather has settled in, shoppers are bustling about, travel plans are being made, recipes are being selected.  There is Christmas music on the radio and twinkling lights can be seen illuminating trees and houses at night.  Traditions are being carried out, and new ones are being made.

I have always loved this time of year.  I love picking out the tree and unwrapping all of our old ornaments.  I love baking cookies and treats with the kids.  I love the parties at school and the little crafts the kids bring home.  I love the sound of jingle bells.  I love terrible Christmas sweaters.  I love seeing all of the wrapped presents under the tree.  I love the candlelight service at church where we welcome that little baby Jesus.  I love the smells of cinnamon and pine.  I love the excitement of choosing just the right cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve.  I love all of the parties and get-togethers with friends and family.  I love looking back on all of our Christmases as a family.

2003

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

2011...where are mom and dad?

2012

2013...where are the kids?

2014

2015

There are thirty days until Christmas.  This means I have thirty days to fill will everything I love about the Christmas season. I am thankful for the traditions my family has carried on, and I am thankful for the new traditions we are creating together.

Thanksgiving

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 24

Today is Thanksgiving.  It's not about football, or shopping, or even the food.  Today is a day to give thanks for the good in life.  It's a day to find joy and gratitude in a world where it's easy to get caught up in other things.  Each and every day is what you make it.  Today, and everyday I am thankful for my faith, my family and my health.

"You will always harvest what you plant." -Galatians 6:7

Jason

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 23

People often ask me how I "do it all."  You know, the kids, the farm, the homemade dinners at night, the running, the blogging-all without losing my mind.  Well, the answer is wine.  JUST KIDDING.  Of course, the only way I can do everything I need and want to do on a daily basis is because of Jason.  He's that dad who gets up early on the weekends to make breakfast for the kids before he heads outside to work in the yard.  He's that dad who cleans up the dishes after dinner and gets the kids into the bath.  He's that dad who takes the extra time to drive the big kids to school, stopping for donuts and frappes.  He's that husband who, when I don't have a thing to wear, tells me to run out and get something new-and make it sexy. He's that husband who gets out of bed in the dark so he can have coffee with me before I head out on long runs.  He's that husband who, when I tell him I need a girls' night, tells me to do it, absolutely.  He's that husband who always has a bottle of wine ready for me in the fridge.  He's that husband who would do anything for me.

Over the years, there are things Jason has said to me that stand out in my mind...

"It's not broken."
Shortly after meeting Jason at a friend's cabin, I took him up to our cabin.  He was out on the jet-ski horsing around and ended up not being able to walk that night.  Or the next day.  And even though I had urged him to go get an x-ray, he claimed it was not broken and went to work on Monday.  When I saw his foot Monday night, it was black.  I forced him to the E.R. where they informed him that, yes, it was broken.  That didn't slow him down, though. Just a couple of weeks later, we headed east and he golfed and walked around Washington D.C. with that cast on.

"Will you marry me?"
I knew it was coming but I didn't know when.  Unbeknownst to me, he had visited my dad and had "the talk" with him.  We had plans to meet at a local restaurant, and after I cracked his crab legs for him, dessert was served-with a ring in it.  He got down on one knee and proposed, and the rest is history.

"We're a family now."
It was the night I had delivered Owen, and we were spending the night in the hospital.  I was in my hospital bed, Owen was asleep in his bassinet, and Jason was uncomfortably curled up on the pullout couch when I heard him whisper those words in the darkness.

"They let me go today."
We knew it was coming-the housing market was steeply declining and it wasn't a matter of IF, but WHEN.  Imagine coming home to a wife and four kids, the youngest being only six weeks old, and having to give that news.  His face was white, and I was sitting in a chair, wondering what, exactly, we were going to do.

"There's this job in Tennessee..."
By the spring of the next year, after finding temporary work with a local company, he said these words to me.  And my mind started racing.  Then he told me the offer, and it was one we couldn't refuse.  So we packed up the house and the kids and relocated to just outside of Nashville.  I loved every minute of it.

"How do you feel about...Ohio?"
And then, as quickly as we had arrived in Tennessee, the job petered out, unpredictably, and he said THESE words.  Again, my mind was racing.  Ohio?  Really?  Do I have to?  I'd be lying if I said he didn't take me to Ohio kicking and screaming, but after two years, the kids were enjoying life there and I had made many amazing friends and miss them to this day.

"I've had my eye this pipeline job in Michigan for years..."
At the end of our second year in Ohio, he said these words to me.  I had heard him talk of some pipeline project, but I never paid much attention.  But then, it was happening.  He had been hired to be a supervisor with a company in charge of installing the pipeline that would supply Flint with good water.  And away we went back home.

"I found this old house on Craigslist...wanna go take a look?"
After a year of fixing up the house we had left when we moved to Tennessee and had rented to people who, instead of buying the house as we had planned, decided to trash it instead, we were faced with a decision: either put an addition onto our current home, or find a new one.  We had looked at many homes over the past year (Thanks to our amazing Realtor, Linda Tenny) but nothing was quite right.  On a day in early June, 2015, he said these words to me.  I think you know how that one turned out.

I've known Jason for 17 years now, and there's one thing I know for sure.  No matter what comes his way, even if it's THROWN at him, he will find a solution.  He takes care of all of us and never complains.  He does anything and everything to make our family run smoothly and happily and I am thankful he chose me to go through this life with him.

Stan the Man

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 22

In addition to yesterday's post about Gigi, there's another person I've been missing.  I wrote about my "Grammy", Eleanor, a few days ago, and although I mentioned my grandpa, you didn't get the full scoop.

My grandpa's name was Stanley Edsel Wogen, and we called him Grampy.  Together with my grandma, he raised his six children, living first in Flint and then moving to the suburbs.  That house was his home for the rest of his life, and continues to be my grandma's home.  He kept his yard picture perfect, and had an amazing garden every year filled with beans, pattypan squash, peppers for canning and the best tomatoes you've ever had.

Grampy loved fishing and when he'd come to the cabin in summertime, he'd take me out in the little tin boat. My favorite fishing memory with him was when we had ventured to the far side of the lake, just before sunset.  We were fishing for bluegill and he had one on his line.  Suddenly, a bigger fish must've chomped down on his bluegill because he could hardly hold onto his pole and our little boat was being dragged back and forth in the water!  He kept reeling and reeling for what seemed like forever, and just as he was about to land the fish, the line snapped and everything went quiet and still.  We may not have brought home a big catch that night, but we had a great fish tale to tell, and sometimes that's just as good.

My birthday and Grampy's birthday were just two days apart, so we always had a joint birthday party.  Of course, he'd always let me open my presents first and then I'd watch him open his gifts, along with sappy birthday cards that always had him wiping away tears.  Grammy would always make us delicious cakes and pies and we'd blow out our candles together.  Birthdays were a little lonely for me for a few years, but little Nash happened to be born on Grampy's exact birthday and now I have someone else to share my celebration with.  I wonder if Nash realizes what big shoes he has to fill of his great-grandpa's.

You've heard me talk about our Sunday dinners at Grammy and Grampy's, where she would take care of the inside baking and he'd take care of the grilling-mostly so he could sneak a little smoking in on his pipe.  I would always pretend to hide as I watched him get out his tobacco and pipe from his toolbox and he'd turn around and feign surprise and tell me not to tell Grammy he was smoking.  It was our little secret and I'm sure Gram had NO idea, right?  After dinner, the kids would get rowdy in the house and he just wanted to relax, so he'd yell, "GO PLAY ON HILL ROAD!", which we all knew was a joke, kind of.  And then he'd take a little nap and pop back up, a new man.  Sometimes, we'd stay until almost bedtime and even into my teen years I'd beg him to carry me to the car.  He'd scoop me up and carry me out and he always made sure to scrape my face with his whiskery face.  Sometimes he'd tell me that he hadn't shaved that day on purpose-just so he could make sure I got the full effect!

Grampy came to nearly every game I played in in high school and college.  Even when he got sick near the end, he'd make sure to get into those bleachers.  It sure was great seeing him and my Gram up there in the stands.  And I remember at his funeral, when we all met together as a family before the service, that the pastor told us not to be sad-that he loved funerals like these where family and friends were gathered and he was absolutely certain that my grandpa was in Heaven.

He was a great and honorable man who served his country and his family and he took great care of all of those around him, especially my grandma.  Even now, if she hears a noise out of the ordinary, she doesn't get scared.  She just says that's Stan, making sure she's alright.  Today, I am thankful for my Grampy, for the great man that he was and for the great memories he left me with.

Gigi

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 21

Her name was Esther.  She was born in 1904, the youngest of ten children.  She married Albert Homsher and had two children: Janet and Donald.  In the 1940's, they bought a piece of land on a lake in Northern Michigan, and built a lovely log home there, which they named "JanDon Lodge" after their children.  Shortly after completion, though, Albert passed away.  Some time later, Esther was re-married to Arthur DeYonker.  This man, whom I knew only for the first two years of my life, was known as Papa.  My only memory of him is visiting him in the hospital before he passed away.  Esther, though, I had the privilege of knowing very well.  We called her Gigi.

She lived in a big old house in the cultural district of Flint.  I have many early memories of her in that house.  I always thought it was funny that her master bedroom held two twin-sized beds instead of one larger bed. I remember her little bathroom, filled with original tile, and the time I had a sore throat and she made me gargle with the old original flavor of Listerine.  I nearly DIED, I tell ya.  I remember the rec room in the basement, filled with fancy wicker furniture, and the cold back room with the stationary bicycle and a little desk I had used to pretend to write in cursive handwriting while playing school.  I remember going for rides in her loooooooong blue-green car and I always wondered how it ever fit in her tiny little garage.

Of course, she was 72 when I was born, so most of my memories of her occurred when she was in her 80's.  When she left her house in Flint, she moved into my Nanu's house.  Sometimes, she'd come to spend a day or two at our house.  When we ate dinner, she would always let me sneak the things I didn't like onto her plate, which I thought was just about the best thing ever.  And if her mood was just right, we could get her talking about her past. She told so many stories of her brothers and sisters.  Her sister, Julia, died as a child and her brother, Charlie, was run over and killed by a boat while swimming in the Detroit River. It seemed like every time she'd re-tell these stories they'd change just a little bit, slowly becoming more elaborate as the years passed. I never tired of hearing them, though.  She experienced many heartaches in her life and yet she was always cheerful and upbeat.

My favorite memories of my Gigi are from the cabin.  She always drank her coffee from the same little cup and when she sat at the table, she'd have me get a pillow from the couch to sit on.  After breakfast was cleaned up, we'd play cards-just the two of us.  It's strange that there were five of us grandkids up there all the time but I was the only one who played cards with her every day.  We'd play Gin Rummy and she was the best.  She'd always tell me to "chest my cards" and if she got down on her luck she'd say, "Seven come eleven, my baby needs shoes and he won't get 'em if I lose.  Come you seven!"  I never had any idea what that meant but she said it without fail every time we played.  Usually, we'd take a break for lunch and at the cabin, happy hour is usually two or three hours, not just one.  She'd have Jim Beam and Diet Vernors and when she'd finish her drink, she'd shake the ice in the glass and proclaim, "A bird can't fly on one wing!"  That was my cue to make her one more.  Just one more.  And then my friends would show up to swim and we'd set the cards aside for the next day.  At night, when I'd come in from a chilly bonfire, she'd make me stick my hands in her armpits to warm them, which I thought was totally disgusting but totally worked, and if anyone was caught with a hole in their sock, she'd make you take it off so she could darn it right away.  That JanDon Lodge is still a big part of our family and I know we all feel her presence when we are there.

Although she is no longer with us, Gigi is remembered.  Our entire family talks about her often and my kids know her through photographs.  When I think of her now, I think of her big, fluffy white hair, her tiny little elastic silver wristwatch on her arm, and her warm smile and laugh.  I am thankful that I was able to spend so much time with her when I was younger and will always cherish her memory.

The Days of our Lives

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 20

It's Sunday again; you know what that means! On Sundays, we do what we want. Today, miraculously, Jason and I woke up before any of the kids. We sat on the couch, drinking coffee and discussing our plans for the day. Jason had plans to finish a barn wood headboard for a Craigslist buyer and I was planning to get back to Owen's room (since it fell by the waside ALL week).  And then, the kids started trickling down the stairs and we were off to the races.

First up: Church. We hadn't been there as a family in a few weeks and I made sure to give everyone plenty of notice so the morning would go smoothly. We have a new pastor, with a lot of new ideas, and it has taken some time to adjust to the changes. During one part of the service, the congregation sits in silence, and if you have someone you're keeping in your prayers, you speak their name. During this time, Nash decided to proclaim very loudly that, "THIS IS SO BORING!"  Please tell me how you stifle laughter during quiet prayer time, because I certainly haven't mastered that yet...


Today, here in Michigan, it's 34 degrees with a windchill of 18-not exactly the weather you want to play outside all day in. So, Jason converted our dining room into a workshop and I headed upstairs to the land of crumbling plaster and mud. When I came downstairs, I asked the kids what they are thankful for this year. Here are their responses:

Owen: Our animals, my family, computers
Emerson: My friends, my family, Gypsy the cat
Greyson: All the dinners mom makes us AND NOTHING ELSE SO DON'T TRY TO MAKE ME THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE
Alayna: My family
Nash: Airplanes, hide-and-seek, milk

For dinner, I made chicken noodle soup, which Jason does not like because I put peas in it.  Instead, he had salad and sushi. Greyson, who hates all food and never tries anything new, loved the sushi, even with wasabi and ginger. Alayna, who is quite adventurous when it comes to food, went running to the trash can when she tried it. After dinner, we had pumpkin pie with Redi-whip on top. Only Owen are his entire piece of pie (along with half of Greyson's) and then everyone requested that Redi-whip be sprayed directly into their mouths.

Then, we declared tonight "game night" and Owen and Grey wound up in front of the checker board while Emerson and Alayna played Life and Nash made a long trail of Matchbox cars among the kids and games. By 7pm, the kids were getting rowdy and restless so we kicked them out of the family room so we could watch some basketball by the fire.

Right now, everyone is upstairs winding down for the night and getting ready for another Monday at school. I've got a glass of wine and Jason has a beer, there is Michigan State basketball on the television, there's a warm fire in the fireplace, and all is right in our little world.

This post might not seem like it's actually about much, but it is. This is a prime example of our everyday life. There was work and play and worship and togetherness. These are the days of our lives and I am thankful for them.

The In-Laws

Thirty Days of Thankfulness, Day 19

I first met these two people in the summer of 1999 at the Buick Open golf tournament. I was there with my new boyfriend, and he mentioned that his parents were there, too, and that we should go and say hello.  I wonder if they had any inkling that in less than two years I'd be married to their son and in the years that followed we would give them five grandchildren.

These people, my in-laws, are Steve and Linda Martin.  They're not your typical I-dread-my-in-laws type in-laws.  These two are mentors and friends and I'd have to say I got pretty lucky in the in-law department.

Although they're both retired, Steve and Linda are quite busy.  Steve is in the Marine Corps League and also finds time to do quite a bit of volunteer work, along with Linda.  Oh, and did I mention they like to golf?  I mean, they don't just like to golf, they love it.  They are both in weekly golf leagues and also play several other rounds per week with friends. Of course, both of their children are golfers and they're doing a great job of turning their grandchildren into little golfers, as well.

Steve and Linda have a great network of friends.  Along with their golfing buddies, there are also cribbage friends, walking friends, friends who leave for warmer temperatures in the winter, friends who are always up for meeting for dinner, and friends whom they don't get to see as often but still hold a special place in their hearts.  They are kind and giving and the life of any party and I'm certain their friends would agree.

Even with all of their busyness, there is one thing that takes precedence for them over everything else: family.  Their two married children and ten grandchildren are their top priority.  Steve has helped us so much here at the farm, as well as Kelly and Jim with their new house.  I am pretty sure our siding still wouldn't be completed if it weren't for all of the time he spent here, up on a ladder, helping us.  And if you know Linda, you know she lives for her grandkids.  She is at as many school functions and sporting events as she can manage.  I don't really know how she fits it all in, but she always magically appears right at game time, often accompanied by Steve.  We spend time with them in Florida every March, and although Steve would like to stay longer, Linda is always ready after their month there to get back home to the grandkids.  They are both very hands-on with all of the little ones and my kids definitely know they are loved and treasured by Nana and Grandpa.

If you know these two, I am sure you share my love of them.  I had the pleasure of spending a lot of time with Linda's father and Steve's mother in their last years of life and I loved getting to know them through their parents' eyes.  I learned so much about them through the stories I was told about their childhoods.  Whenever I'm not feeling quite right about something, or am just looking for another opinion, both Steve and Linda always give great advice and have encouraging words without being judgmental.  They are true treasures and I am thankful that they are in my life and the lives of my children.