Table Refinished

Earlier this week Rus went out of town on a work trip...I found his absence to be the perfect opportunity to refinish my kitchen table! As he was flying away to the land of oranges, sunshine, and Disney World, I was taking apart the solid oak table that I had grown up with. My grandpa made it for/with(?) my parents for our large family of eight. I remember us squished comfortably around it with my dad teasing that everyone was to feed the person to his left. I remember James always sat tilted back on his chair with only two legs on the ground, and how after years of that abuse and the residual squeak/creak the chair acquired, it was always dubbed "James' Chair." (The rest of us always tried to be as cool as James, but we didn't have the nightly determination he did, and so we never fully mastered the skill of eating tipped back in our chair. *Sigh. Someday.)
Since those formidable years in the house of my youth, the table has also endured many years at Amanda's house and almost three years here in my house. Up until last Thursday it was paint splattered (purple, pink, sparkly - Bekah; green, blue, black - Jacob), pizza cutter-sliced (me), plumber's goo (Rus) and generally aged by all involved. It was referred to as the Grandpa table and the poor thing is now going to be able to comfortably enter retirement! No more dinners and food and spills! YAY! (I'll show you it's replacement when it arrives...and let you know what a sweet haggler I am). Grandpa Table will be placed lovingly in my front room to become cluttered with wonderful things that don't have to be put away at dinner time.
I sanded down all of the pieces, cleaned them with TSP, and then rubbed a sander-deglosser over the whole thing. Then I sanded everything again, deglossed it again, wiped it down with a tack cloth, and then finally started staining it. I wanted it to be dark, so I bought a "provincial" color stain and went to town. Five times. I just kept needing/wanting it to be darker, so I kept reapplying the stain.
Now the color is good, but it is very splotchy and...um...slightly disappointing. Oh well, I'm still excited to have it refinished and repurposed.And here is a bench I built with old barnwood from my wonderful friend Jackie, who actually called me and said, "We're tearing down that old barn! Come get some wood!" She is so, so great to share it with me. So Jackie, here's what I did with some of it:And now just a touch of spring to beautify your day (and my front yard...oooh it smells so good!)

Dear Grams

Yesterday morning we fed and even bathed our kids, dressed them up in their sweetest Sunday attire (Jacob had to be bribed - Sunday clothes are not for Monday), and headed up to Santa Fe. We had waffles for breakfast with the special syrup and strawberries. The kids knew then that it was a special day. We stopped quickly at Walmart to buy an all-in-one balloons + helium tank and granola bars for the ravished children (apparently the special syrup doesn't last long...).

When we were almost to Santa Fe we found ourselves right behind a hearse from French's mortuary. Not just any hearse, your sweet ride. You would be happy to know that the driver was a Gentleman and drove ten miles under the speed limit the whole way there. We know because we decided to follow him. We were pretty sure it was you, but thought that worst-case scenario we'd just wind up at another cemetery.
There, you had your own little procession.
We got to the National Cemetery a little early and so we blew up balloons while we waited. Rus took over the helium tank, and within no time he had blown up and popped five balloons. To save the rest of the bag Rus reduced the size from 12" to 8". It seemed to work...my eardrums kept ringing, though. We blew up 25 balloons.
Bekah and Jacob said it looked like a party in our car.
I just giggled...
More people arrived and we formed a circle outside on the sidewalk to keep the wind out from under our skirts. The men's jackets were taken off and given to the foolishly cold, like myself and Libby. When everyone was there we all hopped back in our cars (our party car!) and drove up to the pavilion.
Your strong grandsons and sons carried you to center of the pavilion, a few of the women sat, and Roger proceeded to bless and dedicate the grave. It was emotional to say goodbye again after just having the funeral on Saturday, but it was okay.
Now I know you aren't Mormon, and neither are Don and Jeanne, but Roger just couldn't help but dedicate your grave with the power of the Priesthood. It put a smile on his face to just slip that in the prayer.

After the prayer Roger removed some of the irises (your favorite, and purple, even!), and gave them to each of the girls to press and have for a keepsake. I gave mine to Beau, he destroyed it behind my back, and then Roger gave me a new one.

(DeAnn and Carla)Then came my favorite part. Rus and the kids retrieved the balloons from the van and everybody took one (even the adults) and wrote notes on their balloons. Louise kissed hers...Oh you probably know already, but just let me tell it anyways...

Then all at once we let them go with kisses and notes of I love you. We watched them until they disappeared into the clear blue sky.We hope you saw them.

I know you did.
Love you.P.S. We had lunch later at McD's. Grandma, Grandpa, and four of their kids with nine grandchildren. We made an impression, let me tell you...especially for the three elderly, dressed up couples next to us having a respectable Monday afternoon luncheon. With the husbands and wives getting the food at different times, I swear they thought there were three sets of twins in the mix! Ha! You would have loved it!

Happy Easter, Funny Bunny

While special mornings should be anticipated and celebrated, they should also not be preluded by kids interrupting your sleep - several times in the night - each child. No one was favorite this morning.
Last night Bekah fired her Easter Bunny questions and requests at me like spit from a camel.
"I want a number one (early reader) book."
"I want a stuffed bear."
"I want some church stuff."
"I want some scriptures."
(Jacob chimed in: "Superhero stuff!")
"How will he know what I want?"
"Can he see me all the time?"
"How big is the Easter Bunny?" I think this last request stemmed from the need to know how much loot he could really carry. I explained that unlike Santa, the Easter Bunny just gives you stuff for fun...stuff that he wants to give you. If you will remember, Rus and I frequently lie* to our children, so indulging them in this Easter time fantasy doesn't really bother me. I know what Easter is all about, and I teach my kids that, and meanwhile I love surprising them with baskets full of goodies that I pretend really come from a loving, sneaky rabbit.
*"Lie," as in embellish, fib, exaggerate, or overstate truths that will one day need to be sorted out.
So in response to Bekah's last question I told her, "I don't know," to which she replied "Let's leave out a big piece of brown paper and then the Easter Bunny can draw a picture of himself so we know how big he is!"
Sounded good to me. Here's what we found out.
This is official you know...tell your friends a great mystery has been solved.He even signed his name.
And what a messy rabbit he was! He left eggs everywhere!
(Can you see what time it is? My awesome Ikea light? The Evil Tball glove?)Beau slept in these clothes, that's why he looks so handsome so early in the morning...Cheap bunny!
I loved catching Beau in the act of stealing candy from Bekah's basket. She discovered him, too, but was reassured mid-cry when we told her to go steal from his basket.And please compare these two pics:
Jakey from Easter 2008, just over 2 years old:And Beau from today:Bekah loved her jump rope (hello Rus toes!)And Jacob loved the bubblesAnd both boys had engines to run these motorcycles, thank goodness.We had a really fun morning...and I didn't even have to make the kids breakfast. Thanks, Easter Bunny!


Now. This is what Easter is really all about...
I sat today during General Conference and thought about why I believe in Jesus Christ. Here is the list I came up with:
1. Because I've been taught about Him my whole life, and I understand the plan of happiness.
2. Because I know how much I need Him...I am not perfect. God the Father is perfect. I need the grace of my Savior to help make up the difference and allow me to live with Him and God again.
3. Because I have come to love Him from reading the scriptures.
4. Because I have brothers on earth who love and care for me...It's not such a stretch to think that a perfect, powerful, loving brother would sacrifice His life for me.

And what do I believe about Christ?
I believe that Jesus Christ is my brother, my Savior, and my mediator, and that everything He does, He does out of love. Love for me, love for you, love for the vagrant downtown, love for every sinner and every supposed saint.

Simple.
Essential.

Margaret Windham

It all changed when she let me rub her feet.
Up until then she was a very proper, rarely expressive grandmother of my husband.
The first time I met her was at Rus's parent's house in Edgewood. She came walking in, not bustling or timid like your typical grandmother, but purposeful, erect, grand.
Yes, Margaret Windham was a Lady.
She also had fist fulls of dollar bills for each of her grandchildren, only to be received by way of the famous "Windham Handshake." Rus didn't tell me this, though, so I was left a little uncertain with Rus prodding me forward to shake Grams' hand. They all laughed at me and the relief in my face when I realized the joke...and the prize.
After that, visits with Grams usually meant lunch at Eloys (chile rellenos, yum) or Furrs (not as yum...) or somewhere else where my kids would go crazy and I would leave in a fluster.
Then a two and a half years ago her husband passed away. The first time Rus saw his Grandpa Windham he was in a casket. Grandpa and Grams aren't Mormon, and Louise - their daughter, Rus's mom - is. She was swept away by the handsome Roger Payne, baptized and later literally eloped to the Temple.
Grandpa never really spoke to her again.
It's not meant to be a tragic story...as Rus says, "it is what it is."
After Grandpa passed, the world of Grams was opened to us. We were able to visit her at her house, eat dinner with her and drop by whenever we wanted. Her house was child proofed...again and again until one day a shelf appeared in the den full of toys and alongside it was a play kitchen and a box of play food.
Grams had us wrapped around her finger.
For Christmas a year ago Rus and I bought her the greatest present ever...never to be outdone. It was a gumball machine packed full of M&Ms. Grams became the favorite person in the room each time she was visited because only she could give away the pennies capable of unlocking the machine and dispensing handfuls of M&Ms to greedy hands. Soon even the babies knew that Grams was the one to talk to, and that the bright red machine held the "yum-yums."
Now lest I have misled you completely, you should know that Grams did have wonderful stories and opinions and a terrific laugh, and with a little prodding from Rus's dad she would share memories of different adventures she had gone on. And while I would not consider her an emotional person, all it took was a smile from Grams and you knew that she was having herself a wonderful time.
She loved to hold all the babies (well the ones that didn't cry were favorite), and would always let them take hold of her finger and then shake it gently. She absolutely loved hearing stories of her great-grandchildren...if it was a really good story, I'd hear of how she would share it with all of her friends, too.
Last year Grams' health really started declining. She was home bound since last summer, bed bound since before Christmas. Louise spent so much time caring for her. Rus and I have remarked several times how impressed we are with Louise and Roger's patience, and with how selfless they have been in adapting to Grams' slower pace and needs.
One day I went up to visit Grams, armed with lotion and nail polish. My kids entertained themselves (miraculously), and I was able to rub some moisture into Grams' "alligator skin," as she called it. I talked to her, asked her questions, had her tell me stories about herself when she was my age, how she met Grandpa... I filed her nails and polished them, and then rubbed her feet and legs with lotion, too.
That was when I knew I loved her. She let me serve her and it changed everything. My heart was filled up and I was just so grateful to know her and be a part of her family!
The biggest compliment she ever paid me was when she said that I fit right in...I think it was after I had told her about sewing something. :)
Planning her 86th birthday party also taught me so much about Margaret Windham. Not Grams as I had always seen her, but the woman who went skiing and fishing and always dressed very proper yet fashionable...the woman who used to sew lingerie and who grew irises and loved genealogy and had visited practically every continent. I saw her with dark hair and smooth skin and lips that were rarely without lipstick. I saw her holding and feeding her babies and dipping their toes in a lake.
I saw a glimpse of her life in contrast with the shell of a life she has been leading confined to her bed.
This morning she was set free. This morning she was able to greet her husband and her sister and a child she had lost, Joseph. She was free of the confines of her aged body, and I'm sure she greeted them with a spring in her step and strength in her arms.
This morning she went home to the God who gave her life.
I am infinitely grateful to have known her.

Margaret Leonard Windham

February 28, 1924 to March 29, 2010

Don't Choke on My Thoughts

Bekah on top of the world at the Juan Tabo Picnic Grounds

I am feeling a little unfocused.

I met up with Sarah last night for a much needed girls-night-out where we saw a movie and wound up talking for two hours over dessert. It was much needed conversation and I really enjoyed hanging out with her!

We talked a little about how sometimes it is hard to focus on what you need to and should be doing because there is something else occupying your mind and drawing your attention. For her there is a battle between her job - teaching, and her hobby - photography. If there was a scale present here it would be tipped toward the photography side for Sarah, just as it would be tipped toward decorating or crafting for me. On the other, slightly neglected/abandoned side of the scale would be my kids. I feel like I should be devoting a lot more time to teaching them things. Sit-down education. (Devil on my shoulder says: Come on, really what is so great about having overachiever children anyway? They'll learn abc's and spelling their names and all the presidents and states when they're in school.) And it's not even me doing something, it's me looking for something I'd like to do, searching blogs or websites and wandering my house wondering what I could get away with/afford/enjoy/produce successfully. I focus a lot of energy into finding projects and ideas that I would enjoy...if I would just put that same focus into finding and creating fun educational learning experiences for Jacob or Bekah it would probably be a much better use of my time. (Devil say: But then you'd be one of those people who stutter when trying to come up with a hobby they enjoy. personally. in their "free time")

But I don't want to change focus.

Well, I want to be that person, but more in a SuperWoman way, where a fountain of creative and fun ideas just spews forth from my brain so naturally and amazingly that angels sing and my children write poems about me. Haiku's.

Not really.

I think I want to want to be that person.

I'm confusing myself.

See the conundrum?

The world can be so fuzzy and convoluted...so much easier to dress it up with curtains and framed pictures than try to decipher it. (Angel on my shoulder says: Hehem..Liar, liar. You know that won't satisfy you. Not really. Go out there and give this whole "teach your kids things" a kick in the butt! NOW!)

Yes, ma'am.

Hair Cuts

Have I told you that Beau plays with his hair? He's done it since he was a baby, whenever he is sad or tired. I think it's absolutely adorable. He used to play with my hair, too, and he still does whenever he gives me a hug.
And today I cut it all off.
Impulsive.
I hope he does okay rubbing his head and not pulling his locks.
He and Jacob are going to have to fight those gushy girls off with sticks!

Spring Break Down

Uh..hmm...so I noticed that my whole last post was really about food.
I guess now is the appropriate time to admit that I (and my entire family), have a thing going on with food. We like to eat it, talk about it, and talk about it while we're eating it.
Now you know. (Like you didn't already.)

Rus called me while I was at my mom's house. I saw his number on the caller cheater ID and answered, "Hello Lover."
To which he said, "Hey hon."
To which I said, "Oh! I mean, hello Rus!"
It was funny. He even laughed.
I missed him a ton while I was gone. I pulled in from my seven hour drive, turned off the car, ran inside, and kissed him, a lot. Then we went out and let the kids out of the van.

I got pulled over yesterday for talking on my cell phone. It was literally five minutes after I explained the "NO talking on Cell Phone" sign to Jacob. In my defense, I wasn't really talking, I was answering and explaining to the person that I couldn't talk. I even did it on speaker. Hands free, you know. Urgg! No batting of the eyelashes this time, I was pissed. I mean mad. And the guy didn't even ask me what I was doing wrong, or tell me for that matter! Now I have a date with the court (automatic court appearance for cell phone talking...watch out you ABQ-ers!)

For punishment I had to go give my kids shots. Three shots for both Jacob and Beau. Jacob was way excited about it, right up until it actually poked him, and then he declared "I am never coming back here!"

Today is tball day. Tball day from hell. The weather is not going my way, no matter how much Tara is praying for it (thanks anyway), and now I'm going to be stuck on that field with a crying, cold, shot Jacob in icy wind. Will somebody please tell me that it's okay to quit?

And now for a million picture from last week, because I have too many favorites...
From the visit with Amanda and my mom's birthday:From sticking his nose on Grandpa's fire pit smoke screen:From the 4th Avenue Street Fair with Tyler and his girlfriend Gina (who. I. really. like.). My dad bought my kids a mini ferris-wheel ride and Beau LOVED it! It was actually really entertaining just to watch him because he was so excited and he kept busting up laughing:
enough, enough, right!! Have a great day! And to quote the sign I bought at the craft show, "Good Morning, this is God. I will be handling all of your problems today. Have fun. I love you."