In July of 1999, I decided at the last minute to join my parents and some friends for a weekend getaway in Northern Michigan. Traditionally, this weekend was reserved for my parents' card club only, but for the first time, it was decided that all of us "kids" were mature enough to party with them. So all the card-clubbers brought their kids, and some of the kids brought friends. My friend Christina brought a whole gang of friends. Among these friends was Jason, called "Martin" by his friends because 98% of the babies born in 1975 were named Jason, and you couldn't just yell JASON without 37 heads turning. We hit it off that weekend, and upon returning home I excitedly told my parents that I really liked Jason. "Jason?!" they exclaimed. "We thought you liked Martin!" "That's the same person!" I said. But it was understandable that they were confused, as none of the guys went by their real names. There was Gurp, Rud, and Nix, too!
We spent a lot of time together right from the start, and after just a couple weeks of dating, I took him up to our cabin. This never happens. The cabin is sacred and you must earn your place! Jason had a great time, but unfortunately broke his leg on a jet-ski and ended up in a very large, awkward cast. My parents were planning a trip to Baltimore and I wanted to go and bring Jason-with the cast. For some reason, they agreed, even though I'd only known him for a little over a month. I'm pretty sure he earned his place in the family when he beat my dad and uncle on the golf course, with that cast on his leg and just a five iron and a putter.
And then, when I took him to my grandma's birthday dinner, she pulled me aside and said, "Jason reminds me of a man I had a torrid love affair with when I was younger. You marry him." I guess that settled it!
That year was the historic Y2K. Remember all of the hype about exactly what would happen at the stroke of midnight 2000? We were partying it up on the streets of New Orleans, with 37 other guys named Jason, and were delighted that when midnight came, nothing happened.
We were engaged the following July, and married in March of 2001.
We spent our first week as a married couple on the beaches of Punta Cana.
And then, as they say, the rest is history...
We've lived in seven houses, including one of them twice, and in three different states.
We've been to Las Vegas and explored outside the city on motorcycle.
We've taken bike trips around Lake Superior to the North, to Tail of the Dragon in the South, and to New York via Canada for a wedding.
We've taken several winter trips to Florida to soak up the warm sunshine.
We have run races together, and cheered for each other separately.
We have mourned over lost loved ones, both family and friends, and celebrated everyday miracles. We've had low points including miscarriages and unemployment and personal struggles, but the good times far outweigh the bad. The low points were so low, but so few, and the high points? Well, I can't even give you a list. The high points are our daily lives and the health of our children and the support of our family and friends. High points are things like a family dinner with no complaints, or two points scored by an eight year old in a basketball game, or a Saturday with absolutely no plans at all.
We've laughed until we cried and always kept time for silliness.
We've taken on so many home improvement projects, mostly at my urging, and many of which start well past bedtime.
We've shared 15 Christmases.
We've dressed up for 15 Halloweens.
We've celebrated on 15 New Year's Eves.
We went from a couple to a family in 2003.
We made it a family of four in 2005.
Our family grew to five in 2007.
Then to six in 2009.
And then in 2012, our family was complete.
But we didn't stop growing...
And now here we are, 15 years later. We have five beautiful children, a home that we love, an amazing extended family, and so many memories. It's hard to believe that in 15 more years, our last baby will be finished with high school. These are the golden years. Our simple daily victories and our parenting challenges are not only giving us great memories, they're providing us with adventure every day. And while time may be flying by, holding onto these small moments is what keeps us happy and excites us for the future. Our hands are full, but our hearts are overflowing.
Even before we bought this old farm house, we had dreamed of farm animals. Wouldn't it be fun to have the kids grow up with a horse? Or a couple of chickens? We had a short list of animals we were interested in owning, but when we actually bought a farm, that list started to grow. Maybe two horses...and a goat. And why would we only have two chickens when we have all this land? And if we have a barn, we need barn cats, right? And a little potbellied pig would be fun. And, oh man, we could raise our own cow for beef! And a turkey for Thanksgiving dinner!! And then pretty soon I'll be homeschooling the kids, and sewing all of our clothes, and baking homemade bread on which we can slather our own churned butter, and drinking milk straight from our cows, and collecting various vegetables from our expansive garden to make the best dinner salad ever, and planting the fields with hay for the horses, and digging a pond to stock with fish for the Friday night fish fry, and baking apple pies for the neighbors with the apples from our tree.
Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away, but a girl can dream, right? For now, in addition to our sweet little bunny who joined our family in January, we have five new baby chicks to take care of. The little puffballs will live inside for a few weeks until they are fully feathered and the temperature here is a bit warmer. Then they'll head outside to check out their new digs.
We took the kids to the local farm store last night and everyone picked their own pullet. In four or five months, we hope all of these girls will provide us with tasty eggs for eating and baking!
And now for the introductions...
Owen chose a White Leghorn, (think Foghorn Leghorn) who will produce white eggs. He considered naming her "Big Pecker" which he giggled endlessly about, but settled on the name Mable.
Emerson chose a Buff Orpington. She will be orangish in color and will lay brown eggs. Here is Cecilia.
Greyson chose an Amber Link who will be peachish-orange in color and will lay brown eggs. He was very insistent that her name be Jackie. Hiiiiiiiiii, Jackie!
Alayna chose a Black Jersey Giant, who will be black with a little bit of a white breast and a red comb and waddle. This girl will be the largest of all of the chickens and will lay brown eggs. This is Lizzy.
Nash, with the encouragement of Mom, chose an Ameraucana. These chickens are also called "easter-eggers" as they lay eggs various shades of blue. Her name is Rosie, although he really wanted to name her "Chicken Butt."
The first night had its ups and downs. All of the chicks received lots of snuggles from their caretakers, and Owen's Mable was particularly relaxed in his warm hands. Cecilia was quite riled up and nervous and was pecking the other chicks relentlessly, so she earned her own little place in solitary confinement for the night. This morning, she was reintroduced to the others and has behaved perfectly all day.
At this point, all of us have been pooped on by our little chickies, but the reward of having one curl up in the bend of your elbow and fall asleep far outweighs that minor poop annoyance!
I've heard that chickens are the gateway animal to MORE farm animals, so we will see how things go with these five little creatures and take it slowly from there!
When I moved back to Michigan, I rejoined my old gym. Not much had changed in the three years I was gone, and there were quite a few of the same people. While many of the faces were familiar, aside from a quick "Good morning", I hadn't really spoken to more than a handful of them.
Every day, while I'm running on the treadmill, I watch an elderly man walk down the long corridor in his driving cap and leather gloves and head to the locker room. Every day, he walks one mile on the treadmill next to me. Every day, we say our hellos and then he asks for the television remote, because everyone knows that this man prefers FOX News over any of those worthless morning talk shows! And I never argue because I'm not coordinated enough to run AND watch television.
Then last fall, he started talking to me. He'd finish his one mile and then come and stand directly in front of me while I ran and talk. At first it started with running. "How far today?" "What are you training for?" "That's a great pace-twice as fast as I can walk a mile!" On occasion, he'd say a bit more: where he had worked, places he had visited, how he loved race cars. One day, he told me that he walks because his doctor said he needed to walk a mile every day if he wanted to keep on living, but no MORE than a mile, if he wanted to keep on living. So, he walks one mile every day-no more, no less.
Recently, he's been talking quite a bit-for as long as two or three miles of my runs. I mostly listen, and he talks and talks. Lately, I've learned that his wife is in a neck brace because she fell (out of her own pride to not accept assistance walking up the front steps, I'm told) and fractured a vertebrae in her neck. So he's been taking her all over town for doctor appointments and beauty shop appointments. And last week when I questioned him about why he wasn't there one morning, he told me he had opted to snow-blow all of the neighbors' driveways and sidewalks after the snowstorm. Please note: When I referred to this man as elderly, I meant that he's at LEAST in his late 80's. Yes, I reassured him, that definitely counted as his workout for the day.
Yesterday, he told me that since we were becoming friends, he'd like to introduce himself, noting that he's terrible with names but never forgets a face. I was relieved to hear this because most of the time when someone tells me their name, I forget it by the time I finish saying, "Nice to meet you." But this introduction was easy. He said, "My name is Jim. You can remember it because we're at the gym." And by the time I finished telling him my name was Amie, he was already starting a story about the nut rolls he was making for a yearly fundraiser for an organization he belongs to, and the rest of my run flew by.
Today, just like clockwork, he finished his walk and came to talk with me. He said that the nut rolls were finished and were ready to be sold and mentioned they'd be selling them at the fish fry on Friday night. When I asked if it was through a church organization, he said yes and told me which church. Wouldn't you know it's the same church Grandma Lois was a member of? I asked him if he knew her-of course he did! And there was an outpouring of good memories about her. He told me what a kind and friendly person she was and how she always had gone out of her way to come over and speak with him at church. He mentioned how she managed to travel all over the world-even in her 90's and that he had traveled everywhere, too. My heart warmed to know that this man had also known our sweet Grandma Lo.
And then, Jim said something even more incredible. He said, "We traveled all over with good friends. Our friends at the block company..." WAIT. The block company? I know who owns the block company. "Jackie? Are you talking about Jackie?! I know Jackie," I said. I explain that Jackie was the best friend of the woman whose house we had recently bought. And then he said, "You live in Betty Ann's house? I knew Betty Ann for more than 50 years. My wife was friends with her. They had this club, called the Presidents' Club." And then he told me their story...
The Presidents' Club was started a loooooooong time ago by a group of farm wives who all desperately needed a night off. Once a month they would meet, taking turns hosting the group at their homes. If a farmer protested to his wife leaving for a night, she'd say, "I have to go, I'm the PRESIDENT!" And so it began. At first they were young mothers, meeting to talk about babies and to make baby clothes and blankets. Then they met to talk about their kids in school and teachers and school functions. And then they would meet to plan graduation parties and discuss college aspirations. And then they would meet to plan weddings and to sew precious things for their daughters who would soon be brides. And then it was grandchildren. And then it was great-grandchildren. And now? Now there are just a few remaining members, the last ones standing who carried this club on for decades, with more stories than you could ever count. Isn't that amazing? And the fact that this story was about the lady who lived in my house and hosted this group of women is something to always be treasured.
Needless to say, today's miles flew by. And then, just when I thought he was finished talking for the day, Jim said one more thing. "You know those internet dating sites? You can't really tell who those people are. The best way to get to know someone is to sit face to face and talk for an hour. You'll know within that hour whether you're interested in their life. You have nothing to worry about though, Amie. I'm keeping you around."
