2016-12-10

Merry Christmas 10 on 10

On this day, we celebrate the birth of our youngest daughter.  I'm spending the day creating a "meme-nado" on her Facebook page because today she is 372 months old. That's how all the cool young moms count their child's age, so I just thought I'd join in. Happy Birthday Boog!
But today also officially (finally) marks the beginning of the Christmas season at our house. Last week some of our short people were here and one of them was bemoaning the fact that we hadn't set up our Christmas tree yet! 
So, that is what comprised a good part of our day. 







Every year it comes out of the basement smashed and dusty. 






 But with a few fresh candy canes, lights, some ribbon and the tried and true ornaments that we've been dragging around the country for nearly 40 years, it'll look great. It always does!





It's getting there!






The handsome half brought this nativity home from Okinawa 35 years ago and our children have never known a Christmas without it. It has wise men too, but they didn't visit Jesus until quite some time after His birth. So they reside elsewhere right now.......






.....in the room to the east of the nativity. 

"Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, "Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him." Matthew 2:1-3






We have another set that is much more kid friendly, but unfortunately, in this set Mary is a single mother. Joseph went missing a few years ago.






It just isn't a proper Christmas tree without Santa on his surf board!






And airplanes. 





Lot's and lot's of airplanes!
This one was given to us by my best friend from high school. She always had a part in setting up our Christmas tree. But since she's Jewish, we called it a Hanukkah bush!





Thanks Cherie!! 
(this is a parenthetical inclusion, and doesn't count as a 10 on 10 picture!)





"All is calm, all is bright...." 
until the horde arrives in a couple of weeks!! 
Can't wait!




For my eyes have seen Your salvation,
Which You have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
A light of revelation to the Gentiles,
And the glory of your people, Israel.
Luke 2:30-32






2016-06-10

Black and White 10 on 10





 It's been quite awhile since I participated in the 10 on 10 project, but today, I'm motivated to take a stab at it. Simply stated, it's 10 pictures from your day on the 10th of the month, emphasizing taking joy in the simple things. What's more simple than black and white photography!!?




This morning brought news of a quake in my homeland. Checked in with the family, and all are ok. 




Face timing with Numero Uno put a smile back on my face. He was showing me his loose tooth. By the end of the day, it was gone!




I love the stuff that is available in grocery stores. Many years ago, my kids got a spoon in a box of Trix Cereal that actually turned colors when it got cold. I kept it and it's created quite a bit of strife at times among the short people because there's only one and all of them want it!! Well, voila!! Look what I found today!




This is all that was left in the box of granola bars.




Texting keeps things fun!




Lunch. A study in opposites? Perhaps. But a perfect combination in my book!




Went to visit Mimi. This is her door hanger.




Can I just say that I LOVE the signs along Main St. in our little town!!? If you can get past the spelling, it's absolutely hilarious!




Numbers 2 and 5 with a special friend playing with the pool toys




Ending the day by face timing the rest of the crew.

It was a good day!




This is the day which the Lord has made;
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Ps 118:24










2016-05-26

My First Car

Living in Southern California has always called for your own set of wheels and when I was in high school, drivers ed. was a requirement. One semester in the driving simulators and the car, and one semester of health. The coaches taught all of those classes, and the thing I remember most about health class is how to fold a map. You thought I was going to say something else, didn't you? Coach Pence evidently taught a mean map folding class because that's all I remember of the semester I spent with him at Loara High School. Coach Brown taught driving in a real car on a real street, and Coach Chandler taught the driving simulators, which consisted of putting the film on, turning off the lights, and taking a nap. So, all of that to say that by my 16th birthday, I was all set to drive on my own. And amazingly, my folks let me do just that as soon as I got home with my freshly minted license. 

I drove my parents cars for the first year or so, including the AMC Gremlin my dads business had as a delivery car. But it wasn't long before I decided I needed my own set of wheels. I never minded my folks cars, but having to share was a drag and when Gramma decided she needed a new car, I jumped at the chance to buy hers. It was a great one that I wish I had kept.

Gramma was always a Chevy gal. In fact, I remember she really liked Novas, but the one that I managed to get my hands on was a 1967 Chevelle with real potential! Gramma had 29 grandkids, and she usually had one or more of us with her no matter what she was doing. So the first thing she always did with a new car was to put plastic seat covers on them. You know, like those embossed things that were actually put on like another layer of upholstery? So, the fabric seats underneath were pristine. The first thing I did was rip the plastic off, of course! 

She had also clipped a pole or something in a parking lot, so there was a scrape down the side. No problem. I managed to get the money together to get that fixed, and have it painted at Earl Sheib.




The car went from the stock Granada Gold color to a nice shade of copper brown. Then I added mags and wide tires, and jacked that baby up with air shocks in the rear end. It was sweet!! It had a pretty big engine in it as well. A stock engine in the Chevelle was 350hp. Not that I could tell you how quick it got off the line or anything. Of course not............. But when there was a little water in the nice flat cement gutters, it put up a really good rooster tail! At least......... that's what I was told. Sure. 

I have to tell you that I was kind of a nerdy kid. Never really comfortable in my own skin or confident that I possessed any talent. I was never in the cool group and pretty much marched to my own drummer. I wore glasses, and when photo gray lenses came out I got myself a pair of aviator frames. I had no real sense of style, I just thought they looked passable as both sunglasses and regular glasses. Little did I know that the combination of the car and the glasses made me intimidating. A girl in a college class told me that. So, obviously, I wish I had kept the car.......... AND the glasses!!





Acts 27 KJV

16...... We let her drive...
17.....And so were driven...
20.....All hope that we would be saved was then taken away...

Let not the foot of pride come upon me,
And let not the hand of the wicked
drive me away.
Ps. 36:11









2016-05-04

A Precious Pearl

One of the great things about having your own blog is that you can choose what you want to write about. And if someone actually reads it and they don't like it, it's their own fault for tuning in. 

Usually, I tell stories about my childhood and my brothers, or the fun extended family. But I had the most amazing experience in the past  month that I feel compelled to pass on. Here we go.....

The first several years of our marriage, my handsome half was in the military, and his job kept him circumnavigating the globe for weeks at a time. On one of his trips through Japan, he dropped in to Yokota Air Base, and as was his habit, he went off base to do some shopping. Sometimes when he left home, I sent him with a shopping list. That's why our decorating style was "Early American Military Airlift Command." But on this particular trip, he took it in his own hands to look for and pick out a beautiful pair of pearl earrings with which to surprise me. He managed to keep track of them until he finally arrived at home, and it meant so much to me when he told me the story of his time spent being educated by the pearl merchant before picking them out. 

I got a lot of wear out of those earrings for over 35 years. Until about 2 weeks ago. I had been out a good part of the day, and when I was taking my earrings out and getting ready for bed I saw, to my horror, that I still had the stud in my ear, but one pearl had fallen off. Sad, sad, day. I was just heartsick. 





Of course I prayed about it. I can't tell you how many things I've been able to find after asking the Lord to direct me to them. But this was so small, and I had been to so many places. So, my prayer went something like this: "Lord, can you help me find that pearl?  Is that even possible?!?" Yeah. Not one of my prouder moments. I honestly didn't believe it would ever turn up again and they couldn't be replaced, at least not in the same way I had gotten them originally.

A few days later, I picked up a set of 3 pairs of pearl earrings mounted on a piece of cardboard. They were only $4, and even though there was a "little voice" in my head telling me I shouldn't do it....not give up so easily, I went ahead and purchased them. So now I had 3 1/2 pairs of earrings, but only a single earring had a neat story attached.





Well, 2 days ago, my handsome half set a black bag in front of me. And inside was a black box. And inside of that was another black box and it was hinged. See where I'm going?





He had purchased another pair of pearl earrings to replace what I had lost. But his didn't come on a piece of cardboard off the sale rack! I was so humbled that he would do such a sweet thing. So now I had 4 1/2 pairs of earrings and the newest set also had a sweet story attached. 

But the story wasn't over....

On the same day that my husband gave me that beautiful replacement set of pearl earrings, I got a text from a friend. Her home is one of the places I had been the day the pearl went missing. And the only thing in the text was this picture.





This little pearl had survived the vacuum and a family of 5 for 2 weeks. And she found it quite by accident. As soon as I saw the picture, I knew. She had found the pearl I had lost and thought I would never see again. And I immediately thought back to the prayer "Can you even do that? Is that even possible?!?" And I could almost hear the Lord's voice saying "Yeah. I can." And I think there was a tinge of sarcasm there too! The Lord knew where it was all along. And even though I prayed with hardly a hint of faith, He gave it back. I started out with one sweet pair of pearl earrings. Now I had five complete sets.

So. The "moral" of the story? Pray. Plain and simple. Whether you believe He can or not. Pray. Because He hears your voice and knows your heart and just wants to hear from His children. It's not about the amount of faith you bring to the table, it's about a gracious God Who cares about His own and what they're concerned about. He is completely trustworthy.





The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. 

Matthew 13: 44-46





2016-03-21

Going to the Dentist

I grew up in a dental lab technicians household. There were always impression trays around and I could mix alginate with the best of them! My dad opened his own lab in the upper floor of our house when I was in 8th grade, so he was home all the time. That was pretty great. He even taught me how to do study models and I think he hoped I would take over the lab one day. But when I married into the military/airline business and moved away, he knew that would never happen.

Growing up around teeth, you would think mine would be amazing. Well......... not so much. I had braces twice and my teeth are still kind of horsey. I didn't go to the dentist until I was 7 or 8 years old though I don't think that had anything to do with my horsey smile. But I'll never forget my first experience in a dental chair. 

My friend Mona across the street went to a dentist named Dr. Cook. She was always coming home with cool stuff from his treasure chest when she had an appointment, so I told my folks about Dr. Cook quite often. It's no surprise that they talked to Mona's mom and before I knew it I had an appointment. Mom decided it was a good idea to take my brother Ming and I at the same time. I was cool with that. Until we walked into Dr. Cooks office.

I was used to dental smells and sounds. In the lab, my dad used that same drill that sounds as if it could puncture your skull without even touching you, you know what I mean? The front office "girls" were really friendly and took Ming and I back at the same time. Little brother Bunns didn't have any teeth yet, so he was off the hook. The assistant sat us in chairs right next to each other in the big open room, put bibs on us and laid the chairs back. And then we waited while listening to things that were going on in the room. I'll admit, I was a little nervous and I tried to distract myself by imagining all the goodies I would score.

Then it was my turn...........

Dr. Cook came over with his flat top haircut, plastic rimmed glasses and blue smock and said 'hi'! And I. Freaked. Out. Just lost it. I wasn't a terribly excitable child, but I've always been pretty insecure. Coming home to an empty house scared the junk out of me. Like everyone was gone and I was left behind to take care of Toby, our dog. I was pretty sure that if I got too far away from my mom in a store, she'd seize the opportunity to just up and leave and not look back. 

Well, as soon as I got upset, Ming started laughing. The more he laughed, the more upset I got until I was laying back, with two sets of hands in my mouth just snorting away while trying to catch my breath. Snorting like a pig. And every time I snorted, Ming laughed harder until I thought he was going to have a seizure. He had a really funny laugh, but it was really ticking me off, you know? 

I'm not too sure how long I was in the chair. It felt like about 2 or 3 weeks. And when I was finished, I think Dr. Cook was finished as well. Who knew you could sweat so much in an air conditioned office. Then he had to deal with Ming who couldn't stop laughing. I'm relatively certain Dr. Cook thought we were all a little off. They finally sent me out to the waiting room to sit with my mom. She wasn't too happy with me. She had heard what was going on and "almost came back there!" 

We finally left Dr. Cook's office 2 1/2 months after walking in. At least it seemed that way. I still got to choose something out the of treasure chest, but after my ordeal, I really didn't care at that point. I never told Mona, though Ming informed the whole neighborhood............ while he gasped for breath between hysterics. ..............jerk.







Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn ewes
which have come up from their washing,
all of which bear twins,
and not one among them has lost her young.
Song of Sol. 4:2






2016-01-14

Report Card Time

I spent my first 8 years at St. Justin Martyr School. It was in that big red brick building that I learned to read, write and pretend that I could do math. Amazing in a class of 66 kids with no teachers aide to learn those skills. I love to read, and obviously think I'm adequate at writing. But the math.......... well, in a crowd of 66 kids, some things are pretty easy to hide. And my math problem was one of those things best ignored. 

Amazingly, there were nearly 900 kids in my school, and a small staff of nuns and lay teachers that did a good job at keeping pandemonium at bay. It was there that I learned it's not a "bathroom" but a "lavatory". Not a "water fountain" but a "bubbler". And the "gym" was called "the hall". I could never figure out why there were never any science classes in the lav, no bubbles in the drinking fountain, and the gym was just a great big room with no halls in it. Maybe math wasn't my only problem.

I also learned a lot about what really made a teachers life difficult beyond the fact that they had to face a horde of children every morning. In 5th grade, I had a teacher that would get so frustrated with an out of control classroom, she'd stand at the front and scream "YOU IMPUDENT BOOBS!!!" at the top of her lungs. We were 10. And yes, she scared the junk out of me. In second grade we had a nun that threw chalk, erasers, and collegiate dictionaries when she got mad. I developed my ninja like reflexes in that class!! Another teacher, who also happened to be a nun, had an overabundance of spit, evidently, because when you had to sit in the front of the class, it was literally the "splash zone". Not all the nuns were bad. And not all the lay teachers were good. There was an equal mix of strong and weak teachers just like in any school.

 But I think one of the favorite times for all the teachers was report card day. It was the one day in the quarter that they actually got a break. Report cards didn't get mailed home, nor were they just given to us to take home. Our report cards were actually handed out with great gravity and ceremony.

On report card day, one of the priests from the rectory next door would come into the classroom and all the kids would immediately fall silent. It was usually Father O'Neil and he had a visage that scared even some adults. He was tall, stern, and always had a red face that made him look as if he was nearing spontaneous combustion. The long wool robe probably accounted for that. It was southern California and we ALL wore wool. Even the priests. But I think he kind of liked his "scary self" though. It made classes very easy to control. 

Father O'Neil would sit in a chair at the front of the room, and one by one, us kids would go stand in front of him. He would read the name on the front of the report card and look us in the eye. I went there for 8 years, and he handed me my report card 32 times and never once pronounced my name correctly. Not his fault. My name is a nightmare. Especially for an Irish priest. Anyway, after reading our name, he would slowly open the card and read the grades over and decide if we needed a scolding or a pass. A harsh look brought the girls that needed it to tears. My steady 'D' in religion was a continual irritant to him. But I was able to contain myself and not blurt "WHAT!!?" as he looked up at me. I was hopeless. If anyone had told Father O'Neil that one day I would be a Bible teacher, he might have actually cracked a smile. It would have been a disbelieving one, but a smile nonetheless.

I'm glad I wasn't a boy on those report card days. Because nearly without fail, Father O'Neil would drop the report card to the floor and when the boy went to pick it up, he'd give him a swift kick in the keester. They knew it was coming and could do nothing to stop it. But even as all of that went on, the teacher sat blissfully at her desk, peacefully looking out the window, enjoying the brief break like a mini vacation. 





And when I came to you, brethren,
I did not come with superiority of speech
or of wisdom,
proclaiming to you the testimony of God.
For I determined to know nothing among you 
except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.
I was with you in weakness and in fear
and in much trembling,
1 Cor. 2:1-3






In between dodging flying objects in 2nd grade, I actually made my "first holy communion"




4th grade and under the tutelage of a wonderful teacher




First day of 6th grade with little brother, Bunns. He was just starting his educational career