Silver

Silver Anniversary....

25 years ago today

I married my best friend.

Wow, time has flown by!

French braid, white pumps and baby's breath.

That's my mom in the green dress. She looks so pretty.

That cake! Really, someone should have told me that cupids and huge red roses do not make for a classic cake. But at the time I thought it was beautiful.

A handsome Seaman in his dress uniform.

Look how young we are!
The start of our life together.

You can read my letter to Jeff here.

Happy Anniversary Sweet Jeff
I love you
xo

PS. Does anyone else feel like 25 years means grey hair and horn rim glasses?

The Boy, The Bodysuit and a Bond of Friendship...

My first recollection of having a best friend was 

when I was in 3rd grade.  

I had playmates and cousins and a little sister.

But my very first BEST friend was Lee.

Yes, a BOY.

We lived in a teenie little town in North Dakota just outside of the Air Force Base

my dad was stationed at. We spent our time laughing, riding bikes,

exploring an abandoned house, catching snakes and climbing trees.

He was my first friend that, even at 8 years old, I felt I could be completely

myself with. And he liked me anyway. 

When I was a toddler I had a medical condition that was repaired but left me prone to accidents if unable to reach the bathroom immediately.

I outgrew the problem, but

I had accidents in elementary school A LOT.

My mom, who would've held my hand all day at school if she was allowed, told

the teachers to never make me wait to use the restroom.

As kids can be, they were not very kind, and I was called

"Jodi pee pee pants", "Jodi stinky pants" and the like.

I was a beautiful little girl with long golden blond hair and my mom dressed me meticulously, often making my clothes herself.

I was NOT stinky.

I did, however, have a nervous habit of chewing pencils, eating paste and erasers and writing on my desk with pencils. 

I had the meanest teacher that had to be 100 years old in 1975.

She did not like me and made me sit with my desk pushed up against hers in front of the entire class!  One day she looked at my desk and decided I needed

to show the class how to clean a dirty desk.

She sent me to the custodian closet to get the janitors cart.

On my way I decided to use the restroom because I was scared to death to get up in front of all those kids! And having an accident then would have killed me.

On this particular day my mother had me dressed in the most adorable

brown bodysuit (circa 1975) with a cute white daisy at the neck.

For those of you who don't know what a body suit is, its a shirt you tuck in your pants and snap at the crotch.

In my hastiness to get back to class, I had forgotten one very important step...

As I pushed the custodial cart into the classroom

there was a roar of laughter.

My bodysuit was hanging over my pants...unsnapped.

I honestly don't remember one more thing about that day.

But I do remember this...

Lee never stopped being my friend.

He didn't care that I ate glue, pencils, erasers or even wet my pants sometimes.

He was my best friend.

Then, his family moved and I never heard from him again. Eventually, the Air Force moved us too.

 

*****

I am so grateful that my entire life has been filled overflowing with friendships.

Different friends at different season in my life, but all very special.

I didn't realize it until later in life, but I learned all I needed to know

about friendship from my first best friend at the tender age of 8.

1.  Don't judge someone because they eat paste! Everyone has their own burden or story to tell. Give them a chance to share it. Be compassionate and show unconditional kindness towards others obstacles. Don't crush someone's spirit.

2.  Just be yourself!  You can catch snakes even if you are a girl in a cute dress and ponytails. Be true to who you are, with a smile on your face. Don't let the unkind opinion of others drive you to chew your pencils! There are so many others who will love you just the way you are.

3.  Have fun and take a risk! Explore the abandoned building...but be home by dark so you don't come home to an empty house with a creepy oil painting staring at you while your family is out searching for you! (note from experience)

4. Invite them to your party! Let everyone else get to know the person you

enjoy so much.  Laugh, play games, sing and eat cake. 

5.  Sometimes we don't get to stay in touch and it's okay! Every friendship has a purpose and is a blessing. Some are meant to last forever, and some only last 20 minutes while you are waiting for your oil to be changed in your car.

But once that person has entered your life, you are forever different. Make those moments count!

5. People change!  I'm sure you are curious to know....I don't eat paste or erasers anymore. Give others (and yourself!) the opportunity to change. Be an encourager, but love them (and yourself!) where they are. Life is a journey that we are all traveling at our own pace.

xoxo

Jodi

 

The Pillow

In one of my earliest childhood memories I am lying upon my mothers lap, nestled against her, with my favorite blanket draped over me.  I remember the fresh scent of her lotioned skin, the muffled voices of my parents having a leisurely conversation, and the lull of the car motor as I drifted off to sleep.  Perhaps we were on a Sunday drive, or moving to another town, as we did both quite often over the years. But at that moment I felt safe and at home.

My pillow and blanket have been a source of comfort and peace my entire life.  I love taking a nap.  I never fought my parents when it was time to rest or go to bed. I decorated my bed with all of my babies and often stacked books around the perimeter, as if to remind myself that my bed was my personal sanctuary.  A place to day dream and sing and of course, sleep.

My dad was in the Air Force. We moved often as a child. Our belongings would get packed up in boxes and sent ahead to our new base. My pillow and my blanket stayed with me.  I knew its scent and texture, and it comforted me during the unknown.  On one such trip when I was about 3 years old, I remember staring out the back window of our car clutching my beloved pillow.  The foam inside was broken down into tiny pieces. My mom had lovingly recovered it at least once in a soft flannel.  As our car was traveling down the highway, I decided to hold my pillow outside the window.  The wind caught the pillow and it flew out of my hands into the traffic behind us.  I watched out the back window in horror as MY pillow lay in the road. I cried out for my dad to stop the car, but it was too late.  I sobbed and sobbed until we stopped at a store to buy a new pillow. It just wasn't the same.

Over time that "new" pillow took on the same scent as my first, and I became fondly attached to it.  It too, broke down into tiny foam bits inside a recovered pillow casing.

The blanket lost its hold on me, but my pillow was my main squeeze.  It traveled with me across the United States a few times, through childhood and my teen years.  When children would make fun of me in elementary school, or a boy didn't notice me in junior high, and later when my parents divorced, my pillow was there to cry on. 

Later, when I moved away from home, got married and was about to deliver our first son, I had my pillow with me.  When my husband left on deployment, I'd put his last worn t-shirt on the pillow and sleep with it until his cologne wore off.  Over time, with the addition of two more children, the pillow became insignificant in the shuffle of life.  Eventually, after being the target of sick children and puppy dogs, it made its way to the trash can.  I didn't need to find solace in that pillow any longer. The hugs of my children and husband were my comfort and joy.

Now in my 40's, and almost an empty nest,  I love to snuggle into my bed at night next to my husband.  As I close my eyes and drift into a lull of sweet peace, I hear him breathing next to me.  I'm often overcome with the same warm fuzzy feeling that I remember while being held in my mothers arms all those years ago.  This is home.

xoxox

Jodi

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

And...the rest of the story....

I think my calendar is wrong...

I missed a day this week, where did yesterday go?

I guess I shouldn't promise "tomorrow" unless I

have the post ready to go.

*Geesh*

Its been a weird few days. My sister and niece went

back home to Arizona on Thursday.

Jill, Jessica and me on the way to the Airport
(much to my decorating dismay we added a tv to the living room...)

Fun in Aunt Jodi's tub!

My son (my only one at home) went to

Whidbey Island to spend a week with his besties.

My husband is at work...

and I have slept til nearly 10AM 

each morning!

I think its the lull of the fan and quiet house.

Time to get with it girl!!

TODAYS LIST:

*write this post

*sew the summer slipcovers for the couch throw pillows

(before FALL arrives, ha ha)

*Remember to eat the right things 

(Hubby and I are on day 2 of Phase One

of the South Beach Diet!!

Long overdue......)

*Hmmm, do I dare add painting something to the list??

<FOCUS>

So, now after 4 eggs and 1 cup of coffee I am fueled up....

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

The REST of the story...

(continued from Sunday)

After leaving Wisconsin,

my daughter, Janelle, and I drove ALL

the way to Pennsylvania! 

I think it was like 14 hours,

$60 in tolls, 2 anxiety attacks in the tunnels

and a lot of potty breaks.

One of MANY toll booths

Anxiety attack about to happen...

Pennsylvania!

Once there, we got her settled into her

new home. I stayed with our

really good friends. I wish I would have taken

pictures of my friends GORGEOUS house!

She has such a beautiful home.

**Almost as beautiful as her heart **

Diane, (a very tired) me, Geri

After a few wonderful warm days of visiting there,

I went to Virginia with my friend Diane.

On the way, we stopped at 

LUCKETTS!


Here are some photo's from other vendors in the store

I was so happy to finally see

Miss Mustard Seed's

space.

Marion is now in the process of moving inside the building.

I am so happy for her, she's VERY talented

and was a huge inspiration to me when

I was considering the blog thing.

She also lives in the same town where my daughter

is now living.

As you may remember, I went from Virginia to

Arkansas as my step father underwent

open heart surgery.

He is doing well now, praise God!

The days prior to the surgery we did some reminiscing by

going to my old stomping grounds.

After graduating from High School in Arizona in *ummm*

the mid eighties *gulp*

I moved to Arkansas to be near my father and his new wife, Karen.

I lived on the 3rd floor of this amazing old building in the

heart of old town Rogers, AR.

My apartment was the top corner (The cross wasn't there then)

Looking up at my old apartment

The doorway in from the street

The stairs up to our apartment. Sometimes this was a little
scary. One time a guy climbed through the window to the roof
and was spying on my friend Laurie!

I loved the Coca-Cola mural on the side of the building.

It was recently restored.

There was a working bakery on one side of the street, 

so every morning I woke to the smell of fresh bread!

The streets are brick, there were office buildings on the first floor.

Across the street the old movie theater was a antique mall.

The DAISY B.B. gun museum is on that street now,

and the old theater is a theater again.

There were only 4 apartments in the building.

I lived in the 3rd floor facing the street, my best friend, Stephanie, lived

across the hall way and our other best friend, Laurie,

lived on the 2nd floor below us. There was also

a "really old" (probably my age now, ha ha)

 man that lived below me.

Some of my very best memories are from that time!

SO.MUCH.FUN...and D.R.A.M.A.

I worked at THE BANK of Bentonville as

the switchboard operator. 

I started as a bank teller, but let me back up a little.

Actually, I was a waitress at Kings Pizza when I first moved there.

A TERRIBLE waitress!

One day I was waiting on a table with

the bank president and bank officers.

I spilled a soda on one of them.

I was offered a job at the bank on the spot.

I'm not sure if it was because I was a terrible waitress

or I just handled it well, ha ha.

Flash forward (a few weeks)...I am now a 18 year old bank teller,

hardly a clue what Im doing, and my first customer

approaches the window.

I should have known by the dead silence that fell upon

the teller line....

Me:  Good morning sir, may I help you?

Sir:  Good morning, I would like to cash this check please.

Me: Ok, may I please see your I.D.

*Gasps among the other tellers*

Hands me his drivers liscense.....

Me:  Ummm, Ohhhh, Mr. (SAM) Walton. I am so sorry,

this is my first day on my own.....stutter.

Mr. Walton:  Thank you for treating me like a regular guy.

Then he went in to talk to the bank President. I thought I was fired for sure.

But they called me in and praised me.  *whew* (I was a terrible teller too,

but a good talker, so they "promoted" me to switchboard operator...I loved it!)

I made $210 every 2 weeks and my rent was $190 month!

I lived there until Stephanie and I went on a big

adventure and moved to Jacksonville Beach, FL  a few years later.

(That's where I met my husband, but that's entirely another story!)

Now that Walmart has become so big and Mr. Walton has passed away, Its fun to remember how our lives crossed for just a brief moment.

My step mother's mom worked for the

5 & Dime Store on the Bentonville town square

before it became the Walmart we know today.

Now there is a really neat museum in that building!

Another place we stopped by is Susie -Q!

It has been there FOREVER.

My grandpa took me there when I was 9 years old.

I love their Cherry Lime-aide! Soooo good.

We also went by the Veterans Cemetery so I could see my dad's
Memorial Headstone. This was very special.

During my stay, my moms brother Uncle Don and Aunt Donna came over to visit.

Their daughter, my cousin, Angie was visiting
from Kansas City. She and I are like two peas in a pod.
We always have a great laugh. She has a beautiful family.

I spent most of the time with Mom and Ron at the hospital and at their home.

I enjoyed helping mom around the house
 and planting flowers for her.

I also went out to visit my stepmom, Karen, and step siblings

Stacy and Traci.

I had not been back to the "family farm" since my dad passed

away in 2007. It was bitter sweet, and very healing.

Karen took me out to the family homestead in Pea Ridge. We took

pictures of the old family cemetery and the original old house

that my grandparents lived in when they were first

married.

The hundreds of acres that have not been

touched since the Civil War are now plotted and for sale for

development. Life moves on...

I wish I had the money to buy it all and restore the house to its

original glory. Oh, it was spectacular.

After 2 weeks there, I headed back to my family in Washington.

Its always fun to go back to where you came from,

but really there is no place like HOME!

What was it like when you moved from home for the first time?

I'd love to hear your story!

xoxoxo

Jodi