Memory Lane

Lenten calendars are popping up everywhere as the time for fasting rapidly approaches! Jessica reminisced about their first calendar in 2005, back when her oldest was a wee lad of four. I started thinking about our first calendar....which I couldn't remember exactly. So I went searching for it in a box of old photos (this was before the digital age, folks). And look what I found...

Easter 2002

Oh my goodness, see how tiny my big kids were! Such babies! I wish I could say that I remember those days well, but sadly, three kids, aged 3, 2, & 1, meant not a lot of sleep for mama. The brain fog is thick on those days. I don't remember if the Lenten calendar you see on the back wall was our very first one or not, but that doesn't really matter. Just look at this treasure that was hiding in that dusty old shoe box.

Sunshine, The Professor and Shortcake sitting on my absolute most favorite couch in the world. We bought it off the back of a van and it turned out to be the most comfortable spot for sleeping when I was 9 months pregnant and 9 days overdue with each of those three little munchkins!

And it might make her blush, but I just couldn't resist one more...

Mmmmmmmm....chocolate!

Who knew that a little craft basket update would send me on such a sentimental journey? As Bob Hope would say, "Thanks for the memories!" Now, where are the tissues?

P.S. If you are looking for a Lenten calendar like this one but don't think you can draw it yourself, Lacy has generously offered her printable version here. And if you are looking for more Lenten ideas, you can find them here.

Do you know...

...what a Groom's Cake is? Did you know that it is primarily considered a Southern tradition? I did not and it wasn't until I read a thread over at the forum that I realized it. My sweet Husband is even admitting rather sheepishly that he had never heard of such a thing until...get this...our own wedding!

I seriously had no idea!

Our Groom's Cake has a little story behind it. I wanted something special for Husband and something that would be a surprise. My mom found a lady who made 3 dimensional cakes in her home. Now this was way before the Ace of Cakes and all that jazz. She showed me some of her previous designs. One of them was a computer circa mid-nineties with keyboard and everything, something like

 this!

But... it was frosted with grey icing. Too reminiscent of the bloody armadillo from Steel Magnolias. (language warning)

So, this was our Groom's Cake:

Since Husband's family moved around a lot when he was growing up, I thought it would be fun to pay tribute to those travels. This very talented lady ended up making us a chocolate cake in the shape of a map of the US. I made little flags for every place he had lived and found a baby boy figurine to sit in Illinois (where he was born) and a cute bride and groom to stand in Texas. You know, for the life of me, I can't remember what that little banner said but we still have the bride and groom figurine and pull it out occasionally on our anniversary!

If you had a Groom's Cake, I'd love to hear about it!

2009: Blog Year in Review

O God, the beginning and the end of all things, Who art always the same, and Whose years fail not, we now, at the close of another year, kneel in adoration before Thee, and offer Thee our deepest thanks for the fatherly care with which Thou has watched over us during the past, for the many times Thou hast protected us from evils of soul and body, and for the numberless blessings, both temporal and spiritual, which Thou hast showered upon us. May it please Thee to accept the homage of our grateful hearts which we offer Thee in union with the infinite thanksgiving of Thy divine Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, Who with Thee liveth and reigneth forever and ever. Amen.

With the first month of last year, we celebrated life as we always do...celebrating a birthday. This year it's looking more and more like a LEGO party is in order what with the opening of our very own LEGO store although Ranger's Apprentice is still a beloved theme that is making the rounds of the family.

February is such a short month with so much to celebrate. St. Blaise, St. Josephine, Our Lady of Lourdes, Presidents Day and St. Valentine's Day. Also in February, our Doggie Adventures began with a cocker named Wyatt. BigBoy has come a long way in conquering his fear of dogs since then. Maybe 2010 will be the year we bring a puppy home to stay. February also brings Lent in one way or another. Time to start preparing to prepare!

March is usually the month for tempests both physical and emotional and last year was no different. Weather systems clashing tend to only be the backdrop for ideas clashing and while thunderstorms rage, tempers tend to as well. Sigh. I think I'll choose to remember St. Joseph and the soda bread!

April= ALLELUIA, fun with Easter eggs and St. George. Whoo hoo!

April showers bring May flowers, back to back birthdays and crownings!

June found us making piggy cupcakes and Trinity cookies and Sacred Heart cheesecake and a fun little reminder of the liturgical year for our littlest one. We also remembered our biggest little loss and felt that pain all over again.

In July, we celebrated independence, St. Anne, a joyful reunion, and the discovery of new musical genius! But all of that paled in comparison to the way this awe-inspiring family celebrated the brief life of their little one.

While the flowers outside were waning in the sizzling sun, our August was full of new life. New life here on earth, new lives blooming within their vocations and new lives in Heaven.

September began with our small efforts to soothe a friend's immense pain. We learned that as much as it hurts, life insists on trudging on even when you want to cover your head and hide. We know through faith and the example of our Savior that much can be gained from suffering. We were honored to share a tiny bit of this family's heroic suffering as an example of strength and faith.

October blogging was dominated by our trips down the Alphabet Path and a major bathroom renovation.

November started with a loss (of a furry friend), a gain (of the use of our bathroom, again), a puppy party and ended with the beginning of a glorious season of preparation.

Here we are at the end of December, what more is there to say? It's all still so fresh in my mind that I feel silly pointing it out... snow (the good, the bad and the ugly), prayers, candies, cookies, and creating new traditions. I know that these memories will fade as new times usurp old. I hope the new moments bring us closer together and old ones remain tucked away in our heart!

Thank you for sharing this year with us and for allowing us to share it with you!

Firsts and Lasts

As we headed out for Mass yesterday morning, I carried in my heart the intention to pray for the repose of the soul of Ryan Barrett and also the comfort of his family. We arrived at Mass at the monastery at our usual time but were surprised to find both parking lots already overflowing. My usual inclination is to turn and run to find a less crowded Mass closer to home when I see crowds like this, usually assuming that there is something special happening at the Prep School or University across the street, but our hearts were full of intentions today and we had a meeting with our dear friend which could not be postponed so we parked in the grass and climbed the steep steps to the white limestone church at the top of the hill.

The unfamiliar missals in the entrance way explained the flood of vehicles down below. A new Cistercian priest was offering his first Mass in thanksgiving for his ordination and the fulfillment of his vocation. This was truly a special occasion to be shared with friends and family far and near. (And how exciting for Fr. Joseph to be celebrating this special day in the Year for Priests!)

As I realized how special this Mass was, I was reminded of the loving tributes written by Ryan's mother in the past and of his desire to be a priest. How much was his mother looking forward to this day for him? I couldn't help thinking of the simultaneous heartache and consolation to be found in the plans they were probably in the midst of making for celebrating their last Mass with Ryan here on earth.

I was also mentally transported back twelve years ago to the last First Mass this community celebrated for a young former Brother, now Father Paul who invited everyone to receive from him a special blessing. I remembered exactly what I was wearing and Husband's protective presence beside me thanks to the picture our dear friend, Fr. Placid, took of us on that day. However, I needed no photographic reminder to remember the leaps and jumps I felt inside my body when Fr. Paul stretched his hands over me and the tiny Professor inside me made his participation in this celebration known. Yesterday, these thoughts of grief and memories and feelings were too much to contain and so they overflowed down my cheeks in a much less orderly fashion than the cars in the parking lot.

I was able to speak with Fr. Joseph after Mass and ask for his special blessing, the absence of any leaps of joy painfully noticeable to this mother's heart. I also asked him to pray for Ryan's family and for this young man who would never know his own special day such as this one but who we hope will know of greater delights, will know the glory of holding Our Lord in his hands and of being held by Him, and will know the comfort of being in the presence of the Holy Trinity, always and forever.I know that his family has many good friends to support and strengthen them during this time of weakness and pain. I hope that in days to come, they will find even more comfort in the legacy Ryan left behind and the lives he touched.

My grandma taught me well!

Find you a partner,
Someone who's shy.
Chase that partner,
Kiss him on the sly!

The fun part of cleaning out your attic is that you find all of these treasures that you had forgotten about in the five years of their confinement. And the fun part about blogging is that I get to inflict them share them with you.

I made these four kitchen towels and 2 pot holders during one of the many summers I spent on the farm with my grandma and grandpa probably during my middle school years. In all honesty, I think my grandma actually sewed the pot holders together with the bias tape and backing but she taught me how to do all the embroidery. I'm not sure what I am going to do with them. I can't imagine using them as towels. Maybe I should insert them as panels in a quilt. Any ideas?


P.S. Why yes, Husband is very shy!

An Apple in an Apron

I am feeling a little nostalgic, so bear with me. You might have noticed a red gingham apron that shows up in my pictures from time to time. As I have mentioned before, it is one of a pair that were passed down to me from my grandmother. We keep it around here in case anyone wants to feel pretty while they are helping with the kitchen chores. Sunshine put it on the other day when I asked her to help me wash some apples for lunch. I don't usually wear an apron, so I was surprised at the instinctive way she picked it up to dry the dripping apples. As I watched her perform this simple task, I thought about my grandma wondering how and when she last used this apron. How many apples has it dried? How many times did it wipe away the tears that were cried?

I like to think that nothing would give my grandma more pleasure than this right here.

Later in the day, I had a conversation with a friend who was teasingly insulted by the headline Texas Braces for Erin which reminded me to have The Professor update our hurricane tracking chart. It is an old magnetic one that, as the story goes, my grandma won for her husband the farmer who had been using a map as weathered as himself that the newspaper printed one year. She won this fancy-schmancy magnetic map from a nearby radio station. Not sure it was the grand prize she thought it was although it has always been treasured by someone. Check out the location of some of the major cities. Look closely. Notice anything a little odd?

Click to make the picture larger.

According to this map, there is nothing south of Austin and I think they confused San Antonio with San Angelo. I have stared at this map for hours and have moved the magnets around hundreds of times while watching the geckos scamper all over the screened back door of the farmhouse (doesn't every farmhouse have a front door and a back door in the living room?) and I never once noticed the odd placement of the major Texas towns. It wasn't until it was bequeathed to The Professor and we brought it to its new home that I noticed the mistakes. Maybe I should check the other states? Anyone from Louisiana or Mississippi care to chime in? Oh and if you want your very own super snazzy, perfectly precise (Jim Cantore would never allow such inaccuracies!) hurricane tracking chart you can find one to download from The Weather Channel. Just scroll down to the box that says Hurricane Helpers.

Hang on, this train of thought has one more stop to make. Pondering that map, cherishing that apron and watching the thermometer creep closer to 90 degrees before 9 AM made me remember that farmhouse fondly, but only one other thing could bring it into sharp detail for me. Raw cauliflower. Have you ever had the experience of a taste or a smell that literally transports you to another place? Raw cauliflower is my portkey back to that quiet little house where the inhabitants beat the sun out of bed just to sip their cups of coffee and watch the news in black and white. Where the plastic accordion door did very little to keep the heat from escaping the kitchen on a sizzling before sunrise kind of day. Where the groaning floorboards gave away all secrecy the shuffling old bodies were trying to maintain so as not to wake the young granddaughter still asleep in the mint green corner bedroom. I don't know why raw cauliflower triggers these reminiscences. I don't even remember the first time I ate cauliflower in that creaky little cottage. Though the house is gone now and so are the dear ones who made it my home away from home, I remember fondly and try to share these memories with my dearest ones.
Excuse me... I think I need an apron.

Friday Fun, Again!

I figure as along as we keep having Fridays... we should keep having FUNdays!

Nutmeg passed this along...

A Picture of Now, Between Past and Future
(Oooooh! What a deep, philosophical title! Please don't expect much. I think I put my silly hat on this morning.)

1a. Describe your outfit.
Blue denim colored bohemian tiered skirt and a black tee with a little blue embroidery around the scoop neck.

b. What associations does the main color invoke?
Black and blue, um... a bruise? Deep philosophical title ... remember!!! OK, let's see. I love just about all shades of blue and black works well with my coloring.

c. Is there a memory associated with this outfit?
Yes. I picked out the t-shirt, but Husband was there when I tried it on and he really liked it. I think he liked the color and the feminine touch that the detail adds.

2a. Are you listening to music?
Nope

b. Was this intentional?
Nope.

c. What does the music make you remember?
Nuthin'

3a. Describe the objects within arm's reach.
A pillow, a book, Neosporin, band aid wrapper, water bottle, phone, tissue box. Boy... sounds like major catastrophe over here. No need to call the C.S.I. guys, I promise.

b. Choose one object and tell where you acquired it.
Ummm... do you want to know that I acquired the tissue box from under the bathroom sink or that the Neosporin came from the medicine cabinet? Both items were originally purchased at our friendly neighborhood Bullseye store. Fascinated, aren't you?

c. On the whole, are the objects new (memory blank) or old (memory filled)?
Mostly new blanks here.

4a. What room are you in?
My bedroom.

b. To what extent is it yours?
Didn't I just say it was MY bedroom? I share it with Husband and sometimes a sick/scared child.

c. What kind of memories will you have in the future of this room?
That's a tad personal dontchathink?

Seriously, I will remember how hot this room gets in the summer, how cold it is during the winter. Big enough for a baby's crib, small enough to feel cozy. Dark wood, striped walls, beige and cream and blue, like the inside of a hat box. Romantic without being overly feminine.

5. What were you doing before starting this post and what would you like to do next?
I was looking up chicken soup recipes for my crock pot but now I would like to take a nap! I dink I hab a diny code. Maybe it's just allergies. Nutmeg, send the nanny over here, please.

No tags, just leave a note if you decide to play with us!

Melanoma Monday

If you remember Susan Torres, please say a prayer for her and the family she left behind. It was two years ago today that she collapsed. If you don't know her story, there are plenty of places where it can be found. I went to college with her brother-in-law, Justin and knowing how painful the anniversary of a tragedy can be, my prayers are with the Torres and Rollins families today.

O great St. Peregrine, you have been called "The Mighty," "The Wonder-Worker," because of the numerous miracles which you have obtained from God for those who have had recourse to you. For so many years you bore in your own flesh this cancerous disease that destroys the very fiber of our being, and who had recourse to the source of all grace when the power of man could do no more. You were favored with the vision of Jesus coming down from His Cross to heal your affliction. Ask of God and Our Lady, the cure of the sick whom we entrust to you. Aided in this way by your powerful intercession, we shall sing to God, now and for all eternity, a song of gratitude for His great goodness and mercy. Amen.

Melanoma Monday

A memorable day

Many things have happened on this day in history. Some of these moments in time are head scratchingly strange, some are filled with great sadness and others are equally tragic and curious. This date has special significance for me. Its the day he let me say "yes".

We met at college my junior year. He was a transfer student from out of state. I had seen him around campus that first semester, always with the same girl and always in the same old-style New York Yankees jacket that looked like it came straight off the set of The Natural. (My dad is an old "I-could-of-been" baseball pitcher and that movie was a classic in our house.) The girl turned out to be his sister and the boy turned out to be even more adorable than his jacket.

We went on our first official date at the end of February after having quite a few "college dates". Oh, you know.... grabbing a bite to eat in the cafeteria, studying in the dorm lounge, taking a walk around the campus. We dated for about 6 weeks before that dark and stormy night in April when he asked me to join him on this journey through the valley of tears. He hadn't intended to propose in a dorm room but the wild Texas weather had ruined all of his lovely surprises.

Little did we know that a few minutes later we would be joined by 100 of our fellow classmates who would pass those precious minutes with us in the hallway of a dorm seeking shelter from the tornado outside. Yes...it was quite a whirlwind romance!

We had no idea the number of tears in that valley or how a tornado's fury should have been the least of our concerns, but we are still here, clinging to each other and trudging along, enjoying life's little surprises, seeking shelter from the storms and looking for the blue sky ahead.

Dachau

Margaret's reminiscences about a man named Marco reminded me of someone I met (what seems like) a long time ago in a land far away. The university I attended offered a program of study just outside of Rome for a semester with a modified schedule that allowed for long travel weekends and 2 ten-day travel holidays. So, after working two summer jobs to save up for the airfare, Eurailpass and spending money, the second half of my sophomore year of college was spent in Europe.

After Margaret asked to hear more about that journey, I was inspired to pull down my pictures and the silly journal I kept (trust me) to try to remember when I made that sad trip just outside of Munich.

March 31: We put our stuff away in the Hotel Pension Theresies and headed to Dachau. Depressing, sterile, cold. We saw everything. The words, the memorials, the barracks, the stoves. We saw nothing.

My friend and I left there in a serious state of depression. We were somber and moody and I guess it showed. On the bus back to the train station a little old German man started talking to us. His name was Stephen. He told us about his beautiful wife, their children that he adored, and that he was originally from Romania. He was a burst of sunshine on a cold, gray day. He was our lily among the thorns. He made us smile.He had survived Dachau.

He was there for only 2 years (only? his word, not mine). What kept him alive was his job... he was a cook. His ability to prepare food kept him alive among the starving masses all around him.

He said that he visited the camp every week. I couldn't understand why. Surely he doesn't have fond memories. He can't wish to be reminded of the years he spent under the watch of the gun tower. Wouldn't it be too painful to see those words that were a lie to all they mocked "Arbeit macht frei"? His work did not make him free. His work kept him alive. His work and only his work gave him the tiny shred of worth that stopped someone from putting a bullet in his head.

Perhaps he made that weekly trip to celebrate his freedom. Or maybe he went to honor those who never left.

Maybe he went just to sit on a bus and talk to the strangers he saw... those with sad faces and heavy hearts. Maybe he wanted to offer hope and a little sunshine in that cold, gray place.

It worked.