Dance into 2012!

"Your time is limited, don't waste it living someone else's life.  Don't be trapped by dogma, which is living the result of other peoples thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinion drowned your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition, they somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

                          -Steve Jobs

************

My heart was full as my kids were home for the week.  There is a beautiful energy in the house with them here.  Its the heartbeat of a family. A rhythm of voices, laughter, teasing and my oldest son playing his guitar. It fills us overflowing with gratitude and joy.


Today the house is quiet and I'm picking up the leftovers of a wonderful week.  Things that would have bothered me years ago, but I savor now. Paper scattered on the bedroom floors, a stray sock left behind, empty dishes on the nightstand. They are remnants of the people I love and hold so dear. My children, my family.


So...now I'm a little teary. (and still in my Pj's at noon, by the way) I'm looking forward to helping Jeff put up the tile back splash today. Then we are meeting up with our dear friends for a movie out and appetizers.  It won't be a late night for us.  All the family time this week has left us a little worn out (in a good way!)


As each of our children bring in 2012 in their own special way, I pray that God will watch over and protect them, tonight and every night. I pray that God will guide their hearts to be all that He has created them to be, the courage to change what they can, trust in God to be beside them when they can't, and learn to celebrate the process!  


I pray for you too, my friends, that your new year brings joyful fresh starts. That you will take each moment and opportunity and dance with it. Take the lead and dance!


xoxoxo
Jodi

Happy New Years Everyone!

Please be safe, and don't drink & drive.  

Dear Santa....and a Mothers Love

Christmas Eve!

It has been a quiet, relaxing day at the Green House.

We are breaking the fondue tradition

and having pizza for dinner.

While watching "Its a Wonderful Life".

Then, its off to 

Christmas Eve Service at our church.

That is my favorite part of the evening...

I have written about my dad

many times on my blog. 

But I have not shared much about my mom.

I talked about her last Spring when 

I visited for my step fathers heart surgery.

As an Air Force "brat",

we moved A LOT.  About every 2 years.

Luckily, most of the time we were settled during the

Christmas Season.

One thing I know is that my mom ALWAYS made Christmas

special no matter where we were.

When I was about 5 years old

we lived in a single wide trailer in Wisconsin.

The snow was as high as our trailer it seemed.

That year I was very worried about Santa finding his way to our

little white trailer in the snow.

Here is a "word for word" letter (said by me, written by my mom)

on December 15, 1971

Dear Santa,

My name is Jodi and I'm 5.  I've been good. Can I have a Crissy doll please and a Baby Tender Love and a record player and and electric tooth brush and a sled please.  And my name is Jodi and I live in a trailer in Wisconsin. It's a whole bunch of white and a little bit of green. Daddy has a new car with a little black roof and shiny yellow.  You can get a sandwich and a beer when you get here. And milk too. Don't no little kids be naughty! Bring ma ma a beautiful dress with Christmas trees on it and get daddy some bafume that smells really good. That's all.

God Bless you!  From Jodi

Funny, huh?  

Makes me think of the movie "Christmas Vacation" with

Uncle Eddie. Remember? ha ha

The following year, my sister and I awoke to

the most amazing sight.

We had an entire village of "Little People"...the house, farm, schoolhouse.

New babies in in their cradles, and a Daisy BB Gun for me.

I will never forget that morning.

My dad had been gone over seas for a year and he was home.

It was more than we could ever imagined.

When I was 11, we had a foster sister

named Rosemary that lived with us. She came

from an awful home situation. My dad made cradles for her and my little sister. 

Mom made blankets for their baby dolls.

Rosemary cried because she had never had a Christmas like that.

She was adopted by a family in Seattle soon after.

I would love to find her someday.

That next year we moved from Washington

to Minnesota.  Everything we owned was in storage and we had to live

in a huge, scary, lodge know as  temporary housing.

We were the only family there during Christmas.

We went sledding down the huge hill behind the lodge, went to the club

for dinner, and I played my 45's on the record player all day.

With everything in storage, my mom made all our ornaments

for the little tree we had that year.

I still have several of the felt and sequenced ornaments.

They survived many more moves, a divorce, and being passed around for a few years.

They are some of my favorites.

A reminder of a mothers love in every stitch.

When I was 14, we moved to Phoenix

during December.

Again, we found ourselves in a temporary housing situation.

It's like living in a hotel room.

The temperature was hot.

Not at all like any Christmas we'd shared before.

One late night, a few days before Christmas,

 I saw a glow between the cracks of the bathroom door.

I snuck over and peeked inside.

There was my mom, sitting on the toilet seat, with a stocking in her hand.

She was sewing embellishments on two hand made stockings for my sister and I.

With all our belongings in storage,

she HAND made us stockings.

I have often wondered if I would do the same.

Take the time at the end of a long day to create a hand made stocking.

I love my children, but I think I would

go out an buy one instead.

I cherished that stocking for a long time.

It found its demise on my 2nd Christmas with my husband.

Our black lab puppy decided he wanted the

chocolate, and ate through the toe!

He did not care about the loving stitch work.

 I couldn't fix it. I cried.

Many Christmas mornings have come and gone since then.

Some years we have had much, and others we barely scraped by.

But one thing remains constant.

Love

May Jesus' love be the thread holding together the embellishments of your life.

God Bless you this Christmas and always.

xoxox

Jodi

UPDATE:  We love our church located in Silverdale, WA
The staff created this video as part of a beautiful Christmas service.
They always incorporate laughter into the services.
I love that.  Enjoy!

Silver Bells....Silverdale version

Easy Breezy Almond Roca! Simple gift giving...

Now that our kitchen is functional again,

can I get a *woooo hoooo*,

we have been baking!

One of my sons absolute favorites is this

Easy (with a Capital E!!)

Almond Roca Recipe

I have a batch cooling right now for him to take

up to Mt. Baker to go snowboarding.

EASY Almond Roca Recipe

1 Cup Salted Butter (2 Sticks)

1 Cup granulated Sugar

2 TBS water

Melt butter in medium sauce pan,

Stir in sugar and water

and bring to a rolling boil.

Add 1 Cup Chopped (or sliced) roasted Almonds

Stir occasionally.

Cook until it looks and SMELLS burnt.

It will be a medium brown color.

(don't panic, I undercooked this the first couple times because I was worried it was burnt)

If its undercooked, it will be chewy.

Pour onto foil or parchment paper 

(I like to line my cookie sheet, and pour into that)

Sprinkle with milk chocolate chips while still hot.

When they start to melt

use a spoon to spread the chocolate like frosting.

Sprinkle the top with more almonds.

Let cool completely and break apart.

Sometimes I will put it in the freezer to speed up the process.

Makes a great (delicious AND easy) gift!

I also found this Chocolate Covered Peanut recipe over

at Southern Hospitality!

Its also super easy and done in a crock pot!

I have mine going right now,

I cant wait to try it out.

I know! A Crock Pot! 

Awesome.

Counter! and Story of the Day #1

Hi Friends!

Hey, anyone else still shopping?  I'm running about 3 weeks behind this year.  I'm not worried though, it always works out just as it should.  We were determined to get most of the remodel tools, paints, trims, etc. out of the living and dining room BEFORE we put up the tree and bring out the Santa Collection.  We succeeded...except for one little corner...and I'm ok with that!

One of the delays we faced was the large butcher block counter top from Ikea.  We waited about 5 or 6 weeks for this sucker.   I thought for sure we would be serving Christmas dinner on a piece of plywood.  Last Monday I was visiting with a friend in the dining room and Jeff came flying in the front door  "It's here!!  I called and they will hold it for 2 hours... " he exclaimed on his way to change out of his uniform into real world clothes. My friend left rather abruptly (sorry Susan) and we dashed out the door to our "local" Ikea. Its about 1 1/2 hours away.  Does anyone else feel like a hamster in a habi-trail while trying to find something in that store???  Just give me a wheel.  Anyhow, we finally found the kitchen area and we got the LAST one...yes, the LAST one, and that was because we had it on hold.  I could've kissed the sales lady.  We went in circles dashed over to to checkout and paid for it.  With the receipt stapled to the pick up slip, we headed back in to look at a few other fun things.  About 25 minutes into "browsing", Jeff realized he was no longer holding that paper between his cute little fingers.  His face went white...and the backtracking started.  We can't find our way around while browsing...how in the world will we back track?  It was an adventure.  We stopped, prayed a prayer of desperation to a loving God, and I walked up to a sales lady.  While I explained what happend, a woman standing about 4 feet away says "I just set a piece of paper on top of those clips...over there".  I think she was an angel...because in that sea of a store, it WAS the receipt.  We wouldn't have been able to pick up the counter top without it!  Not wanting to take any more chances, we were outta there licketysplit.

Today Jeff is doing his baking marathon, so its not all pretty and staged for pictures.  But I think I have made you all wait long enough.  After Christmas, and we get the last details finished I will take beauty shots, okay? OK.

Countertop right out of the box. VERY heavy! See the sink on the floor? And the to do list....

Snickerdoodles, Swedish Rye Bread and some vintage tins.

New counter in Laundry room/Pantry.  I refinished a large dresser to hold platters, and table clothes.

We still need to do the the subway tile back splash above the counters.

Laundry side of the laundry/pantry.  Smokey is enjoying his eating station too.

Baking area. This is where the door was into the hallway.  I still need to change the knobs to the pulls. 

He is enjoying the (small) baking center that we created.  Its all organized and perfect for us.  Again, he is baking and I do not want to mess up his laboratory. The kitchen/dining area get sun all day long (as you can see in the glare and on the microwave) and at this time of day (late afternoon) the sun hits the Puget Sound and Olympic mountains in a lovely glow. It's so peaceful.

 ********

Ok, so I am going to start a series, kindof, I guess that's what it would be called.  When I was in High School it seemed I always had some silly story to share.  After awhile my friends started calling it my "Story of the day".  I do love to tell stories.  However, I would not want to bore you to death with a story EVERY day.  But as things happen...as they usually do.... and if its blog appropriate (some of you may have noticed a few posts "missing"...deleted.  Just a little too much information. Or as my husband says "It's YOUR blog, but do you REALLY want to tell everyone about THAT?" Hmmm, maybe, maybe not. My blog, my rules *wink*)

*********

So to start...THIS is  STORY of the DAY #1

I have spent the past several weeks cleaning out attic space, drawers, closets, etc.  I am on a cleaning frenzy.  I separated items to "donate", "take to booth", and "dump".  On Tuesday I filled the truck cab with several boxes, and a giant boob tube TV.  As I started the truck I heard a farting sound. HUH?

I looked around to make sure my husband wasn't nearby playing a joke on me.  Nope.
"rrrrriiiiip" I heard it again.  The long, squeaky kind.  Hmmm.

Then I remembered that while cleaning out the attic, I found the old "fart machine" that my husband boys loved. They had more fun playing pranks on innocent by standers and guests than should be allowed.  I was a prime target, and the butt (ha ha get it?) of many of their little jokes.  They loved to tell me that the machine farts sound JUST like mine.  Thanks boys.

I thought about keeping it for about 2 seconds, but the remote was MIA and enough was enough...its outta here.  It sat in a box in the house for a week with not so much as a sputter.  But here I am sitting in the truck all alone with a fart machine that will NOT stop farting!!  With no remote nearby...   surely it will stop any second.  I started laughing and I could not stop. Hmmm, they really DO sound like mine.

A few miles down the road, my mind begins to wander to other things and the farting simply becomes background noise....until I pull into the pharmacy drive thru to pick up my prescription.  As the young man in the pharmacy window turns on the speaker and asks me how he can help me....
"rrrriiiip, rrrooooar, squirt (I dont know how to write the sound of a wet one???)"
He gives me a really strange look.
"Umm, hi, yes, I'm here to pick up my (rrrriiiip) prescription. My name is..."
At this point do I explain the whole thing or just look like a lady with a serious case of indigestion.  Should I ask to throw in some Rolaids?  I decide to play dumb.  Fart? What fart?  I pay for my prescription and drive away.

By now, I am laughing hysterically...to myself...
I decide to call my daughter in Pennsylvania.  She is at work.
"Hello, Janelle?" "Do you hear this?" ( I hold the phone to the backseat)
"Yea mom, is THAT you?  I'm at work you know"
"I know, but I HAD to tell someone..."  I go on to tell her the whole story. We laughed until we had tears.  Real tears.
"Only you, mom! Only you!"
We hang up.

Next stop...Goodwill.
I rush to the side door and explain before opening it. The young guys couldn't get to it fast enough.  "This will be GREAT to do pranks at work!!!"  They were so excited.

I went home and told my husband the story.  He laughed, but only after he got over the initial disappointment of  "Aww, man, I've been looking for that!"

Boys.

Closing Shop!

Yep,

you read that right.

Its been a hard decision,

but I am closing up my booth at the

Poulsbo Antique Mall

January 31st.

I still LOVE collecting and

will open another space

at some point,

BUT

FOR NOW...

the monthly cost is too much.

Business is VERY slow.

and I live too

far from the store to keep it at 

the caliber I envision.

So,

Stop by next week.

I am bringing in several new things.

Some of which are NOT refinished or refurbished.

The prices will reflect that.

Thank you to those who have supported

and encouraged me.

I will be back!

Bigger and better....one day.

The blog stays....I LOVE writing!!!

I LOVE you!

Teaching Wednesday....And the muffin top....

Let me start by saying that if you don't own a nice looking work out 

outfit...go buy one!   I should have used mine for the gym instead of 

wearing it to work in the yard or painting furniture or running (not

literally, of course) to Costco.

About 3 weeks ago I was at home and had a unusual pressure in my

chest.  At first, I thought was having an anxiety attack, but it felt different

than that.  It really scared me.  It only lasted a few minutes and although

I felt strange afterwards, I decided not to go to the ER.  I did make a 

doctor appointment for the following week.

During the doctor appointment my blood pressure was high for me.

They did an EKG and it appeared there was nothing significant.

But because of my family history of high blood pressure and heart 

disease she scheduled a treadmill stress test.

That brings me to the work out outfit...

The instructions for the stress test were to "wear two pieces, 

tennis shoes, and a large loose top."  Seems simple enough, right?

Well, last night I started looking for an "outfit". I know, I know, it sounds

silly to have to think about this.  But I am not a little woman, and I

I have big "girls" (Sorry, TMI...) and the thought of those "girls" being 

let loose under a large loose top while jogging on a treadmill just about

put me in a panic attack!

My husband was sitting in bed watching TV...and me.

"Just throw on whatever you would wear to the gym!" (like, duh?)

"I don't GO to the gym, Jeff! I don't HAVE a gym outfit. 

What about these jeans and shirt?"

(laughing) "That's silly, you can wear MY sweat pants and T-shirt."

Ummmmm, no thanks honey:)

After a lot of laughing and envisioning the "girls" on the loose, knocking out

every Dr. in their way, and the possibility of giving myself black eyes, I found

my "yoga" pants.  Out of style and faded, they would have to do.  I also decided

on a zip up shirt, also out of style...but loose.  At the last minute I threw on a tight

fitting tank top under the shirt.  The best part of the outfit was my sneakers. Fairly

new, and bright white.  Its easy to keep them clean when you don't wear them.

This morning I got dressed in the dysfunctional flashback outfit.  Feeling very 

self conscious, but pressing on, I showed up to the clinic.  I was the only woman in

the waiting room, and at 45, I was the youngest by a good 15 years.  Gray was the hair color of the day.

I was called back to the room by a lovely woman.  A private room. Whew.  She asked me what I was wearing under my jacket. (Huh? what happened to wearing a loose shirt??) 

Ummm, a very tight and UGLY... tank top.

"Perfect, hang your jacket there and pull your top up tucking it under your bra"

Really!!? I like the idea of "hanging out" under a large T-shirt better than having my spare tire (that hasn't seen the sun since 1989) hang out.  "Ummmm, ok..."  

We then had small talk about my neighborhood as she shaved my skin and stuck stickers all over my chest, hips, and back.  She then used some sort of power tool and I briefly felt like Frankenstein. Let me clarify that I do not have a man hair chest. They shave EVERYONE. 

Next, she attached the handful of wires. I was ready to receive HBO and the Internet.

As she explained the process, the following words stood out  "Today is teaching Wednesday, so there will be about 5 Doctors in to watch and monitor you."

FIVE!!?? Please, just let me drop dead right now. As if having your ghostly white muffin top hanging over your faded yoga pants isn't enough...lets add 5 middle aged men to the room to watch me heave and gasp for air while the "girls" bounce all over town.  Again, if this doesn't CAUSE a heart attack I don't know what will.  

About that time they all marched in.  I became a class project.  10 eyes, 5 stethoscopes all on my chest, speaking about my history, risk factors, blah, blah, blah...

Then....the machine started.  First 3 minutes...ok, easy.  Next 3 minutes, higher elevation...still fine.  Another 3 minutes, steeper and faster...wow, I can feel this.  My blood pressure was getting higher. I reached my target and was able to stop.  I am grateful that although my blood pressure needs to be monitored, my heart didn't show problems.

I laid on the table while they continued to monitor the pressure.  Meanwhile, muffin top still hanging out, gasping for air,  and all 5 standing over me explaining the results.  I really wanted to grab my jacket and get the heck out. When they were done,  I peeled off the stickers, and wiped off the gel, said thank you and good bye.

As I left I was reminded about the time I went to the Dr. for an ear infection.  

"You have tiny ear holes" he said.

"Oh, is that a problem?"

"No, hold on."  " Hey (calling out to the intern in the hallway) come here!"  "Look at these ear holes. Aren't they the smallest you have ever seen?"

Wow, really?

As of this moment, I'm scouring the sale ads for a new gym outfit.  Only this time, I plan to GO to the gym. 

Nuts, snorts, and kitchen update...

Hello!

I'm a little embarrassed.

We are still working LONG and HARD

on our kitchen.

BUT

We are not youngin's anymore.

(shhh, don't say it out loud, I might hear you..

I'm in denial)

and it seems to be taking FOREVER.

Enough about THAT!

I hope you had a wonderful

Thanksgiving Holiday!

My sides still hurt

from the HOURS and HOURS

of laughing hysterically

with my husbands family.

We are very LOUD

when we get together, scary almost.

tears. snorting. howls.

But its the sound of happiness and love.

Intensified.

We are very blessed.

Too bad laughing doesn't burn (enough) calories....

I HAVE to share this story.
On Wednesday,
I asked my husband to please
 stop by the store
 and pick up...

* 3 Artichokes
* a few different color apples
* Mixed nuts
I needed these to decorate the Thanksgiving Table.
I guess I didn't clarify the nuts part
because he helped decorate the table by sprinkling
the nuts....

Ummm, honey, I meant WHOLE nuts.
ha ha ha
I love that guy.

 Although my daughter was

having her very first Holiday away from family.

She is also very blessed.

She has many "other mothers" looking

out for her, and I am Thankful for that!

She had TWO dinners on Thanksgiving day!!

Her facebook post read

"I am never eating again..."

ha ha ha

We missed you Janelle!

I hope you were also LOUD with happiness.

OK...KITCHEN...

Here are our new floors....

It's a heavy laminate tile with some ground stone in it for texture.
We applied real grout in between as per instructions.
Unless you get down and inspect up close,  it looks just like the real thing.
We chose this because we needed a thin floor. A solid tile or wood
was just too thick due to years of other remodels (sub floor).
The idea of pulling up glued down particle board was just too much.
In a perfect world we would've liked to match the oak flooring into the kitchen.
It compliments the cabinets, paint and oak flooring nicely.
The photo looks mauve, but there is NO mauve in this floor. yuck.

We are gathering energy to finish

the laundry room as you read this.

New lighting!

The lighting is from Lowe's.

Jeff finished making the top trim

pieces for the windows...

they are drying and will go up tonight.

 I painted the ceiling a light, light blueish color.

Not for everyone, but on these dark grey winter days it makes 

me smile.

And...no birds will build a nest in here.

*wink*

The crown moulding will go up later, and that will look great!!

Oh, and we are returning this stove

for a different one.

That's a story for another day.

I must start working now...

have a sander in hand and headed for the mystery wall...

xoxoxo

Jodi

Delicious Sweet Potato Recipe!!

Happy Thanksgiving Eve Day!

As I write this I have a pot of 

Sweet Potatoes

boiling over

on my new stove 

and I couldn't be happier!

Although we still have plenty to do to complete

the kitchen remodel,

it is mostly functional and we have eaten

at home all week. 

I thought I would share this DELICIOUS

recipe from my dear friend Diane.

Like many Military families,

 we often get together with our friends at 

Thanksgiving.

They become a part of our family.

Diane is now on the EAST coast *sniffle*

but her Sweet Potato Recipe

is a family favorite.

Give it a try this year! 

You will love it.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

May God richly bless you and your families.

Sweet Potato Casserole

3-4 cups cooked/peeled/cooled sweet potato

  1   cup sugar

1/2 cup  butter

2 eggs

1 tsp Vanilla

1/3 cup milk

Whip all of the above in your mixer until a creamy (mashed potato) consistency.

Spread into a 9x13 greased casserole dish, 

set aside.

Next combine:

  1  cup brown sugar

1/3 cup flour

1/3 cup butter

1 cup chopped pecans (or walnuts)

Sprinkle over the top of your casserole.

Bake at 350 for 30 minutes.

Sprinkle with mini marshmallows the last 10 minutes until bubbly and golden.

Enjoy with your Turkey!!

xoxoxo

Jodi

Kitchen Sneak Peek

Good Morning!!

Been busy as beavers over here.

4 weeks....that is how long my house has been in remodeling mode.
We have eaten out about 4 times a week during the process.  I do not
like cooking, but I am so READY to open that box and add water in
my own kitchen. ha ha.


We have a long way til DONE, but we have made a huge dent!
Thankfully not in one of my new appliances!

Here is a sneak peek.

Things we still need to do:

**Paint the ceiling before the new floors go in. (sooooo, guess what I am
doing today???) May need a neck massage tonight.


**Finish putting in the Ikea Butcher block Counter tops.  These are 1 1/2 inch
thick Oak, very affordable, and GORGEOUS! Sadly, when we went to our
Ikea store last weekend, they were OUT OF STOCK with the large size we need
for the peninsula side.  Its OK, we have plenty of other stuff to work on. I just
hope its not going to be January, like they anticipated! If so, I will be driving 
to Portland's Ikea store.

I have a piece of scrap board on the top temporarily. See the sink??? And the dishwasher drawer???
We had to build up the cabinets to make them the right height, but the baseboard will hide that.

**Sink permanently installed, and faucet put in....AFTER counter top.  
Thank goodness for the utility sink! As gross as it is, its still better than having
to use the tub!

**Tile back splash.  This is going to keep the kitchen light. Here is a sample
of what we are doing.  I got these porcelain cream colored subway tiles at my
local Habitat Reuse Store last year. I knew I would use them somewhere!
3 boxes for $5 TOTAL. Yep, you can get great deals at your re-use stores.
For a little bling we are doing a small strip of the glass mini subway tile. The
colors are perfect with the wall, corner cabinets, and stainless.

**Hang new lighting.  I found some great vintage style milk glass fixtures
at our local Lowe's store.  I will show those later.  We had a dimmer added
to the switch (for late night smooching while washing dishes??? ha ha) Anyways,
after 23 years of marriage...a little dimmer switch might be fun!


**Flooring. Obvious.

** And a little surprise on the Chalkboard/microwave/Baking Center wall...
I'm still in the creative process at this point (meaning I'm trying to convince my 
very tired, over-it-already, darling husband that this will add character. 
PLLLLLLEEEEAAAASSSE sweetie xoxoxox) 
Stay tuned for that one.


**Laundry room: new floors to match kitchen,  and dresser turned 
base cabinet (another treat!)


**And many little details that would bore you to tears.

Using cabinets that were custom made for another home has proved to be challenging,
but not as difficult as we expected. We could not use the over-the-refrigerator cabinet (too big) 
so we are figuring that out. Also, we had to cut off (totally destroy!) an end cabinet next
to the built in dishwasher. But you will never know it in the end!

Oh, and I had a surprise visitor yesterday!
I cannot wait to share that story with you!!

So fun, and interesting!


Gotta go earn my keep!
xoxoxo
Jodi

The Man in the Uniform...

My husband.

He is a father.

So tough, aren't they?

A son.

A brother & a cousin

ha ha, love that one

He loves to cook.

He loves to fish.

This is him fishing on the beach, and the guy is in the background,
but it looks like he's hooking the guy. so weird.

He is kind and loving.

Crazy about his old dog.

A lot of fun!

And would take a bullet pie 

for his country.

 I am grateful for him.

I looooove him.

Do you have a Veteran you love?

xoxoxo

Jodi

Veterans Poem

THE THINGS THAT MAKE A SOLDIER GREAT 
Edgar Guest

The things that make a soldier great and send him out to die,  To face the flaming cannon's mouth nor ever question why,  Are lilacs by a little porch, the row of tulips red,  The peonies and pansies, too, the old petunia bed, The grass plot where his children play, the roses on the wall: 'Tis these that make a soldier great.  He's fighting for them all. 'Tis not the pomp and pride of kings that make a soldier brave;  'Tis not allegiance to the flag that over him may wave; For soldiers never fight so well on land or on the foam As when behind the cause they see the little place called home. Endanger but that humble street whereon his children run,  You make a soldier of the man who never bore a gun.  What is it through the battle smoke the valiant soldier sees?  The little garden far away, the budding apple trees,  The little patch of ground back there, the children at their play,  Perhaps a tiny mound behind the simple church of gray. The golden thread of courage isn't linked to castle dome  But to the spot, where'er it be — the humblest spot called home. And now the lilacs bud again and all is lovely there And homesick soldiers far away know spring is in the air;  The tulips come to bloom again, the grass once more is green,  And every man can see the spot where all his joys have been.  He sees his children smile at him, he hears the bugle call, And only death can stop him now — he's fighting for them all. THANK YOU to the men and women who serve OUR great country.

 

One Word Wednesday

((Heart))

The call that broke my heart...

Four years ago today I went to work, came home and noticed that I had missed several calls on my cell phone.  Recognizing that they were all (425) area codes,  I felt weak in the knees and sick to my stomach.  I knew something was terribly wrong, and I was too afraid to find out.

I called my husband at work.  "Honey, something is terribly wrong". Then I started to cry.
"Call this number, and call me back right away".  By the time he called me back 5 minutes later, I was shaking and gripped with fear.

"Jodi, sit down, are you sitting? It's your dad...." The rest is a blur. "I'm on my way home". He said.  My husband came home from work to help me prepare for a flight from Washington to Arkansas.  A trip to say goodbye to my daddy.

The year before, Dad had open heart surgery.  I went home to help him so Karen, his wife, could go back to work after his surgery.  Dad and I watched Lucille Ball on TV in the hospital, and Karen and I made a Coconut Cream Pie to welcome him home.  He didn't have much of an appetite, so when he was hungry for his favorite pie, we eagerly made it.  It was Fall, and we laughed a lot while he "bossed" Karen and I around from the porch.  We totally took advantage of the fact he HAD to be still and we could run around on "his" golf cart collecting the Fall decor, and digging through the stuff in "his" garage.  This is a picture from that day.  I know I show it a lot on here, but its my favorite.

The Summer after his surgery I planned a trip back down to Arkansas with the kids.  I had an overwhelming feeling that I HAD to make the trip. There was also a huge family reunion planned for my maternal Aunt and Uncles 50th Anniversary near by, so we were excited to go. As much as I tried to include our entire family on the vacation, Jeff and our oldest son were unable to go.  As it turned out, Dad and Karen marked the dates wrong on their calendar, so when I called from the airport on our way they were (happily) surprised.  Karen had taken the following week off, and so she was unable to spend the daytime with us.  Dad used that time to take us all over the area. He shared stories of his youth and the trouble he and his friends found. At 62,  and retired from the Air Force, Dad lived on the farm where he grew up. Janelle and Jordon thought he was so funny and loved to hear all the stories.   The very last time I saw my dad alive  he was driving down the road  to catch us before we left  the nearby McDonalds to go to the airport.  Jordon had left his baseball cap at their house, and dad didn't want him to forget it.  With our cars stopped side by side on the road, we said "thank you" and "I love you".  I believe there was a part of me that knew I wouldn't see him again, but you never want to believe that feeling.

my niece Jessica, nephew Jeremy, Jordon, me, dad, Janelle
(My sister was taking the picture)
August 2007

I talked to my dad for the last time about 2 weeks before he had the catastrophic stroke.
It was easy for us to talk hours without effort.  I remember him saying he felt better than he had in several years.  "I have a new lease on life" he said.  He and Karen had just returned from a long desired camping trip to the Smokey Mountains. He had finally felt well enough to have a huge garden, catch up on home maintenance and take a vacation.

But on that bright, sunny, crisp Fall morning in 2007 my dad would get up like any other day and have coffee with Karen, take a shower, and give Karen a kiss goodbye as she left for work.  Sometime that morning he got a debilitating headache.  He called Karen and told her it was the worst pain he ever had.  She left work right away. He managed to call 911.  As she arrived home the paramedics were loading him into the ambulance.  By then, he had lost all use of his body. He could not speak, but he was able lock eyes with Karen. I cannot imagine her pain as she watched her husband of nearly 21 years fade away. He died on the way to the hospital, but was resuscitated.  He would never regain consciousness.

As I packed my suitcase, I didn't know what to pack. Do I pack for a funeral or will he survive? I felt guilty thinking I might need something to wear to a funeral. My head was spinning, my eyes hurt, my heart hurt worse. Jeff made flight arrangements for my sister and I.  She lives in Arizona, and I had to call her to tell her.  My heart hurt for her too.

Whidbey Island is over 2 hours from the Seattle airport. I had to arrive 2 hours early. I only remember parts, like sitting between two men on the red eye flight to Dallas. Wanting desperately to sleep, but when I dozed I would awaken with the realization it was not a dream. Nearly 12 hours after leaving my house,  I reached the Fayettville Airport.  I learned dad was on life support and wasn't coming back to us.

When I saw my dad in the hospital, I knew that his spirit was in heaven.  I held his hand, trying to memorize every crease. All the while, I knew that Jesus was holding mine. Amongst the grief, I felt His peace.  With the rhythm of the ventilator in the background, my mind drifted off to moments in my life and how those hands helped me grow. They taught me how to put a worm on my fishing line, tickled my back as a little girl, disciplined me when I misbehaved, and hugged me when I cried.  His hands showed me how to change a tire and check the oil when I began to drive. They were the hands of a man who could build and fix anything. The hands that taught me how to make the best popcorn EVER.

That afternoon we let him go. The family gathered at the farm and we shared stories. As I stood on the front porch I looked around and felt the cool Fall air on my face, inhaled the familiar smell of the farm, and was flooded with memories...fishing in the ponds, riding horses, milking cows with grampa,  riding in the tractor bucket, finding kittens under the house, huge spiders, snakes, and so much more.


I went inside to the restroom and saw my dads pajamas from the morning before lying on the floor beside his slippers.  I slid my feet into the slippers, smelled his t-shirt,  and I broke down.   I was flooded with the realization he wasn't coming home. For my entire life, the farm was where I could find my grandparents or dad.  I felt the weirdest loneliness I'd ever experienced. It was at that moment I started a new journey...what I call  "My Dirt Road Home".

The farm was the one place that was a constant. From my earliest memories to adulthood it was "home base".  We moved often with the Air Force, so from the moment our tires hit the dirt road to the farm,  I felt a sense of belonging and "going home".  With my dad gone, it left a huge void in my heart. Thankfully, time, love, faith and forgiveness has healed that void, but it has been an emotional journey. I went back for the first time last spring. I feel whole again.

One of the  hardest parts about losing my father is the fear of forgetting our stories. If you'd like to read more,  I shared more about my dad here.

Thank you for reading my stories.

xoxox
Jodi