2011 Recap

Long time, no blogging! Here's another year gone by....recap style.

Happy Birthday Mama!

Today is somebody's birthday. And I'm not talking about Honest Abe.

This is my mom.

She made me learn how to type, even though I protested bitterly, and swore it was a skill I didn't need.

She taught me to sew, even though I refused for many years to learn to thread the machine, and swore it was a skill I would never use. (This is Alex Anderson, who is in no way related to us. Maybe mom should adopt her; she probably would make a better quilty daughter than me. I'll bet she doesn't give up in tears on half-bound quilts and shove them off on her mother to fix.)

She (mom, not Alex!) taught me what it is to be a mom and how to love silly children, even though I swore I would never have any of my own.

Moms have a way of knowing what you need to know, and finding a way to trick you into learning them. Then you turn around and it's you trying to trick your own kids into learning how to boil a chicken. And even though you would never in a million years force your own kids to eat tomato aspic, you will, every now and then, try to slip a crazy little recipe like "meatless" loaf past them. Of course, they will reject it and ridicule you, much in the same way you ridicule your own mother still for forcing you to eat that nasty tomato jello.

Thank you, Mom, for making me learn.

You were totally right, of course.

You always are.

Because you're the mom.

And I love you.

Beautiful Day

I've introduced you to my brothers. Brian is a fire captain and Jon is a pastor. They both like to tell people what to do. (It's sort of a family trait; I seriously have to restrain myself from doing it all the time. Except to my kids cuz that's my job.)

Today I'm going to let Jon tell you what to do. Think of him as a guest blogger of sorts. Because I didn't exactly ask him for permission. Well, hey, it's youtube and it's fair game. And although I didn't ask, I did tell him I what I was doing, and in my book no response means yes. So here ya go. Pastor Jon, lay it down.



Find out more about Beautiful Day here.

Happy 80th, Grandma Jan!

Last October, these three brothers put their heads together and plotted out a little surprise for their mother's 80th birthday.

Kurt from North Carolina, Erik from California, and Ian from Arizona all converged upon the octogenarian's house on the same day and took her out for some birthday grub.

Every mother's dream--to have all her babies together again!

The Stockings Were...?

Well, I can't exactly hang them because we don't exactly have a mantle. Fireplace, yes. Mantle, no. I've always wanted one of those chunky rustic slabs of wood for a lodge-like mantle, but it's kinda low (like on the bottom) of the priority list. New roof is kinda dominating the top of the list, but it's soooo boring. Okay, that's bummin me out; let's just move on, shall we?

This is one of our first stockings. There is a matching one but it has lost its hanger. I guess Santa overstuffed it one year. I made these 24 years ago for Ian and my first Christmas together! The idea was that we would stuff each other's stockings. Not gonna lie, that didn't work out too well. Hubby didn't quite get the concept of stocking stuffer and gave me a dress from Laura Ashley in my stocking! (note: I am NOT complaining, just chuckling)

These two particular stockings have lived quite the life. After being newlywed stockings they became my two oldest kids' stockings, because who has time to make stockings when you have babies?

After baby #3 came along, I had somewhat of a problem. Two matching beauties, and a cheesy fuzzy red and white supermarket stocking. Well, the baby was a baby after all, and didn't really care. Eventually, I decided to make a new set of three. I really love these stockings.
The velvet, the tassels, the gold braid, the vintage buttons...

They looked awesome in our old house, which had a traditional fireplace and mantle. But then something happened. Babies, more babies. Number 4 and Number 5 got those newlywed stockings, and Number 6 got stuck with the fuzzy one.

The other problem was that the stockings weren't big enough. They were really hard to stuff! So, back to the drawing board.
I collected up a bunch of old jeans, cut them all apart, and made new casual stockings lined with flannel. They are super roomy and durable, which is a must because without fail EVERY YEAR the kiddos put their stockings on their feet and slide around the house.

They usually get some gum or tic tacs in the little pocket, and yes, I know, one doesn't have a pocket, but you know what? It has a pocket on the back because I made it backwards. So it either doesn't have a pocket or it hangs facing the opposite direction. If you know Colin, the owner of this particular stocking, you'll get why that is totally appropriate, and you'll understand why, at age 15, I don't even think he has ever noticed that his is different!

In a nod to tradition, the kids get an orange in the toe of their stocking, because that's what was always in the toe of mine growing up. The funny thing is that we had an orange tree in our yard, so my brothers and I were a little baffled as to why an orange was anything special when we could just go outside and pick one. Apparently, mom always had an orange in the toe of hers, and back in those dinosaur days it really was something special. For my own kids, I've upgraded to a Toblerone chocolate orange, since really, we have several citrus trees in the yard, and oranges, lemons, and grapefruit are coming out our ears at this time of year!

A couple of years ago, a little birdie told me that the kids were getting up in the middle of the night, unloading their stockings, then reloading them before we got up. Last year Santa came to my closet and let me pass the stockings out the next day. Not sure what clever idea Santa has this year!

Check out the other fun stockings over at Nikki's!

Two Sad Things, Completely Unrelated

Let's start with the first sad thing.

We didn't win the state championship game. It was an exciting match right up until the very end. We had a chance to score in the last 20 seconds of the game, but our pass was intercepted. Ouch.
The final score was 16 to 20. You know, there's a reason why I have a hard time watching things like the Little League World Series. It's heart-wrenching to watch 12 and 13 year old boys lose a big game. They are still little boys. And their tears, well, it's enough to break a mother's heart, even if they aren't my kids!
Now for the second sad thing. Saturday my dad had a "cardiac event," which landed him in the hospital. For those of you who know him, you'll remember that he had a heart attack 15 years ago. It appears that there is some damaged tissue from that previous attack that is not getting good circulation and is causing some trouble now. The treadmill test on Sunday went well, and he will be meeting with the cardiologist today and hopefully discharged as well. I'm sure he and my mom would appreciate your prayers!

The Turkey and the Tortoise

Our Norman Rockwell moment

But before that could happen, a lot of this had to happen. And when I say a lot, I mean A LOT!

Here's my foolproof trick for freeing up oven space. Oh yeah, a man and his grill. Works like a charm!

Let's take a closer look at that bird. Mmmmm...nothing beats a mesquite smoked barbecued turkey. And the drippings (because yes, we catch them in a little pan, down there with the coals) are to die for. The gravy is a-maz-ing.

Carving the bird is the hated task of the day.

But I did my part this year. I supplied the instructions. Lots of pictures. Minimal wordage.

Good Thing.

Mama gets a little love from the college kiddos. . . .
It was a day of family surfing

sisters singing

and little brothers smiling.
And it was a lovely day to lie in the grass!

Happy Anniversary!

Twenty-four years ago...

two kids got married...

Recently, Brian had to interview us for an assignment. Here is his take on our marriage. (The "unexplainable" makes me giggle!)

The Story of My Parents

by Brian, age 11

My parents have been married for almost 24 years. Wow! That is a long time! They met at a wonderful place we like to call church. Here's a surprising thing. They only knew each other for three months before they decided to get married. They were only engaged for four months. That's a grand total of seven months!

They try to keep God first in their marriage by keeping God first in their lives. They go to church together and serve together. They pray and read the Bible.

My parents do a lot of stuff to show that they love each other. Some are not explainable! They speak kindly to each other, give each other gifts, and help each other. You can really tell they like each other. My dad learned right away how to be a servant. He had to clean up Mommy barf on their honeymoon.

My parents have six wonderful, amazing kids! My mom's advice is keep God in your marriage and don't let the babies crowd Him out. When you have a lot of kids it can cut your relationship with God so you have to be careful to protect that.

That just goes to show you that my parents love each other and respect each other. I know their marriage will keep going and get better as they go!

Happy Birthday Dad

Dear Dad,
Have I ever mentioned you're the best dad in the whole wide world?

Remember this little gem from the past? I wrote it for your birthday when I was 9.

Sometimes Dad is mad,
Sometimes Dad is glad,
Sometimes Dad is sad,
Sometimes Dad is bad,
But still he is the best Dad.

It was the first time I ever saw you cry.

I didn't write you a poem this year, but I found a very special one for you, and a very special picture too. I think we have never seen this picture before because Grandma hid it away. You know, the teeth. And she's probably rolling over right now because not only am I bringing it out to the light of day, but I'm publishing it on the web for the world to see! But I think Grandma looks beautiful here, and look at you with your blond hair. Betcha didn't know your hair was ever that light!

The poem comes from the archives of Grandma's notes. It was published in the local newspaper, though I can't tell when because I only have a clipping pasted onto another page.

My Baby.
I will seize these precious hours
Of sunshine with my son,
And lock them safely in my heart
Till childhood days are done.

Then I will remember
My baby's smile and frown,
His small head, his tiny hands,
His eyes of shining brown.

I will seize these golden hours
Of sunshine while I can,
Soon, too soon--my baby boy
Will be a man.

Beulah Key Talbert
Carthage

So today I want to tell you I love you, I'm proud of you, and I'm honored to be your daughter.
Love,
Lori

PS to the rest of the world: My dad the retired preacher (but you know preachers don't really retire; they just find someone else to preach to) is currently in Mongolia. Take a look at his blog and check out what he's up to now!

They Ain't Heavy, My Little Brothers

I grew up with two goofball little brothers. People always thought they were twins, but they're not. One's blue eyed and the other is brown eyed. But the buzz cut kinda threw everybody off. And the fact that they're only 16 months apart didn't help.
As their older sister, I felt compelled to keep them in line...er...I mean...boss them around...um, I mean...guide them in the way they should go...oh, who am I kidding? They never listened to me, so I stayed in my room and read books. Lots of them. While they wreaked havoc on the neighborhood.


Here they are in high school. I think the girls thought they were hunky, but eeeww, they're my brothers. And let me just add...having little brothers stinks on ice. First, they bug you half to death, pretty much for your whole life, and second, they don't bring home cute friends that are old enough to date. I think I got totally gypped. Well, that's okay, I found my own hottie hubbie without any help from them, thank you very much.

And here they are all growed up. I think Mom, Dad, and I did a fine job raising them. They turned out to be halfway decent after all. But only halfway. Cuz they're still pretty annoying. And I'm still the favorite. And I can say whatever I want since they refuse to read my blog. Something about being too busy fighting fires or saving souls or some such nonsense. Whatever.

Read about them here. (edited to add: this article is not related to current fires or relief efforts; this happened a couple of years ago, but still pretty cool to read about)

Watch the pastor/comedian. He's such a third child it's ridiculous.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad

Okay, it all started 50 years ago, with the two old fogeys seated here. (Check out Dad's blog for the real scoop.) And the rest, they say, is history . . . .

Here's the result . . . . 14 crazy grandkids!

Grandma and her boys

Grandpa and his girls

Mommy and Me

Being the resourceful firefighter he is, Brian fixed breakfast for us all one morning (and no, he does not moonlight at Whole Foods in Campbell, although we all wish he could get us a discount at Whole Paycheck, I mean Whole Foods).
Jenna takes a spin in the Sprite
while the boys ride off on a manly man adventure
Of course the weekend involved taking scads of family pics, most of which did not really turn out all that great. Something about getting everyone to look in the same direction proved to be quite the challenge. Could be the sleep deprivation.

Shelby, Zachary, Alyssa, and Jenna are fairly adept at looking at the camera.

Although, there's a goofball in every family.

Jon's family . . . note that everybody is looking in a different direction. Maybe it's a hereditary thing. Did I mention there's a goofball in every family?
And then there's my lovely family. We can look at the camera, but we can't coordinate our clothing or brush our hair. Must be a homeschooling thing.
Of course, since we were in San Diego, we were required to hit the beach. I think it's a federal mandate that all Arizonans must visit Coronado on a regular basis.

Uncle Jon and a few of his honeys. . . .

Brian's girls

Jon convinced the guys to make human churros. Can't you hear him giggling right now?

And here's my son falling for his uncle's tricks. (Note to Tait: Do NOT listen to Uncle Jon. Trust me, I speak from experience. You'll save yourself a world of trouble if you totally disregard everything he says. I'm just sayin'.)

And now for the truly disturbing . . . . Kissin' Cousins?