Home Grown: Part I

Oh what do you do in the summer time,

When all the world is green...

Do you fish in a stream,

Or lazily dream...

And watch as the clouds roll by?

Is that what you do?

So do I! 

In May of 2008

I quit my secure job with benefits...a field of expertise

that I had been around for almost 20 years,

and followed my husband to Idaho.

We became the General Managers of a 100 year

old resort, and on June 10, of that same year

we woke up to 11" of new snow .

We were in for the adventure of a lifetime...if truth be

known, it would be more excitement, heartache,

sorrow, frustration, disillusionment and JOY, to fill several lifetimes.

OH: the ride of it all...

Would I choose to experience this

again, if I could?  Absolutely!  There is only one thing that triumphs

heartache, and that is overcoming it...and everything in

between shall be added unto you. 


I am a mother of five, 
Nana to 10,
wife to one, for 40 + years. 



I thought that life had schooled me in just about everything it could up to that point, boy was I mistaken.


As a team we learned fast, that you are never to old to learn new tricks, 
that adult children, who should "know better"
sometimes don't.   
Saying "I forgive you"...and meaning it are on different planets.


As an individual I learned that every single day, we are blessed with a sunrise we did not ask for, and that, in itself is magic.


***

Stay away from what might have been
and LOOK for what can be.


We wrestled with cantankerous customers, and rowdy guests and wonderful return visits!  We grappled with pipes, and cabins
that had seen a 100 years of manipulation, rebuilding, and lots and lots of
 "a promise and a lick!"

We realized that the value of a dollar has no meaning
when there is not a dollar to spend and
that pure determination, elbow grease, some giggles with guarded expletives
always generate miracles, even in the smallest of ways.


***

I was hired as the Hospitality specialist.
I loved it!  I embraced it...and came to know intimately a
true generosity of the human spirit.


 The first time a "guest" told me he was going to come across the counter and kick my ass, I stopped him dead in his tracks by saying, " Your Mother, would be so ashamed of you right now."
He simply turned around and left, later to return
and pay his bill in full, with a very sincere
apology.



We rented out boats, canoes, tubes and rafts to float the 
Henry's Fork River.
It was so rewarding to help families and individuals create, or relive memories.


That being said, it sometimes became a THREE RING CIRCUS
in fulfilling the demands.  For the most part, the public
played by the rules, and waited for returning rafts and then would come in and purchase a trip.


My first year orchestrating this was character building.
At one point over the Fourth of July weekend,
I had two men, beginning to go
fist to cuffs, as to who was supposed to be called up next.


The GM, heard the ruckus, walked in, and escorted them outside.  That was after, I had told these ruffians, that the Sheriff was my best friend, and  had already been buzzed, to come and give them a ride off the mountain.


Believe it or not, everyone was able to return to a state of sanity.
ALL INVOLVED, eventually apologized to one another
and ended up riding the river.  (These were grown men, fighting in front of their wives and children)!


We were a force to reckoned with in helping families pull off
reunions.  I made so many new friends.


My intrigue was with the men and women who walked the Continental Divide...a trek from New Mexico to Canada, which they would start in the early spring and hope to finish before the snow started in the fall.  Our resort was listed on the mapping they used.  We had showers and a laundromat that was available to everyone.  
We met the most amazing individuals.


Nuclear scientists, who were trying to decide if they wanted to continue on in their field or go home and write stories for children.


Men from Israel who were so war weary...that they were not sure if they should return to the home of their Fathers.  Feeling like their chances of survival would be greater if they  played Russian  Roulette.


Photographers, who were following specific hikers, and creating a documentary.


And
people who enjoyed challenging themselves, to see if they could complete over a thousand miles of trekking, sleeping in every conceivable element, eating whatever you were willing to carry with you... overcoming fears of the UNKNOWN.


Life, is that in a nutshell~because no matter how much you think you may have it planned and figured out, eventually you will
get a curve ball thrown at you.


Better to practice knowing how to take it over the fence, or learn to live with the strike.


*** 


The year of a thousand tears
 started for us in 2010.


Within a few months time, we lost our beloved hound of 14 years,
my sweet Mother, our son-in-law to a head on collision,
a courageous brother-in-law to cancer,
and
our youngest son, to the ravages of prescription addiction. 


***

We were so busy burying loved ones, we had no time to grieve.

Dang, that sounds so callous, but it was the truth.
And yet, simple acts of kindness, from stranger or friend,
became the glue to our hearts.


One guest heard about the loss of my Mom, and dropped by just as I was closing up one evening.  She approached me at the counter with tears in her eyes and removed  the most beautiful
and exotic locket from around her neck, no words were needed as she gently gave it to me.  She was from Romania, and spoke very 
broken English.  Our hearts and tears spoke the 
same language.


Flowers, food, and little notes were always showing up
at the most crazy places.  

People would come by and just hang out at the front desk in our office, with ice cream dripping down their arms holding the
cones of gooey goodness,  until we could take a break and eat it.

Goodness is universal.
Goodness matters. 


There is so much to this part of my story.
I hope you will return,
to know...
that, sometimes there is nothing grand about
overcoming heartache... sometimes, it's just in
allowing a total stranger
or absolute friend
help you.

There will come a time when you think everything

is finished!  

That will be the beginning... 

Just a BLINK: III

...a sister is a little bit of childhood that can never

be lost...

This past month has been one of reflection and celebration!

All I can say is...I fully understand how being a bride in June, has made March so prolific!   

No, I was not married in June....but as a child we had so many family members, Aunts, Uncles,...Mother, brothers, sisters

cousins, each born in March.

 It was impossible

to have or attend all of the birthdays individually...

so we celebrated one HUGE party, and invited everyone to attend.

Each year between Grandma's house and ours we took turns hosting.  It was a St Patty's Day celebration, without the green beer!

 

...in the end...love is the brightest light of all...

 *****

I am drawn to a memory over 30 years ago.

We were a family of boys.

 I knew there was a little girl in heaven just biding her time

to make an entrance here on earth.

And that is what she did!

A STARR IS BORN!

Congratulations to LeGrand & Jamie Ellison

Read the marque just as you drove into town.

Green River, Wyoming, Taco Bell

was announcing to the world our JOY!

But we could not have our youngest child be our only girl...

18 months later, Britt made her appearance.

~WE WERE COMPLETE~

There is magic in the air, when little girls are around.

Something in pink, will soften out even the harshest mountain man...

blonde curls, and green eyes...both of them.

I was in heaven.

Starr, loved to have someone read to her, and when no one was

available, she entertained herself...sometimes for hours,

on her little chair, with a stack of books.

When Britt, was about 6 months old, I passed by their

bedroom door, and to my delight Starr had maneuvered

her little stool, to the crib railings, and was hurling

all of the books she could manage

into her sisters bed.  She was bound and determined 

to SHARE THIS GOODNESS!!!

I stood and watched, and the thought came to me,

that they would grow to be the best of friends.

I can hardly wrap my head around the fact that it has been

30 years, that our baby girl, Britt was born.

And a whole lot of living...

As they growing up, we were so fortunate to live in an area

where there were great friends...the Vellingas, the Bacca's...the 

Spencers...and many, many more.

These little girls made it happen,

playing house, baking mud pies, helping in the garden..."High Spot",

dress-up's  and secretaries!!!

I about died the year that Britt, asked for a "real"typewriter, at Christmas.  I think she may have been seven.

Starr, has always been the great organizer.

We had a fun little tradition, when the holidays rolled around,

preparing their room, changing out the checkerd quilts

for the silk and lace spreads.  Dressing all of the dolls in their finest outfits.  Scrubbing toys, and donating to a favorite

charity.

In the middle of it, Starr was taking charge.

If you ask them to tell you about the time they were delivering papers and I accidently drug them off the curb,

and into the gutter, with the door of the car...you may die, laughing...but it was horrible at the time it happened.

The incident when their friends dog, got to excited as the kids were playing in the snow, and attacked Britt..taking off her

nose and a big chunk of her lip, leaving puncture wounds all over her sweet little face.  That is when I witnessed first hand the resilience of youth...the trust, and belief in miracles.

With the skilled hands of a plastic surgeon, and resting over the weekend, she was back in school, defying anyone to tease her.

Second grade hero...but it was her sister Starr, who was

 always silently watching out for her.

Starr, who wants nothing more than to match her brothers accomplishments in the out of doors, hunting BIG game.  She was inducted to that feat of accomplishment with her Daddy, one season, given the glorified" task of carrying home

"the cookies" of the elk which had been shot and cleaned.

Oh MY GOODNESS!!!

*****

The stories of life.

Impossible to cram 30+ years of living into a couple of paragraphs.

I love both of these women.

They have been the delight of my life...and sorrow, and JOY...and the cause of a lot of sleepless nights.

They are walking, talking courage...giggles, beauty...screeching (when angry or frustrated), silent tears falling, prayers never ending...they are the resolute support for each other 

that a parent can always hope for, pray for, and be so utterly grateful for.

They have the music of life just bursting from the seams. 

Compassion, is not a relationship between the Healer and the Wounded...It is a relationship

between equals.

They have been there for each other in everything life has thrown at them.

They are sisters.

  

I wish you enough:

...a house that does not have

one, worn out

comfy chair in it...is soulless...

March

The other morning, I was making my way down the 
stairs, trying to be extra quiet...not knowing
if anyone had fallen asleep on the couch
from the previous night.   Comfortable in the warmth of the fire
and draped in the fur we have placed over the back.

   In my quietness, I stubbed my toe, on the rocker.
I got to thinking about
chairs...the memory of them.  The stories
they hold.

My mind wandered back to when I was four
years old.  I had been trying to make a 
place for myself, in the neighborhood...and had not been
very successful at it.  An older child, who was
handicapped, had grabbed my hair, and pulled for all
she was worth, which sent me home.
Trying to smother my sobs, and sneak into the back bedroom
where I could hide my embarrassment...
 my Mother, heard me, and called for me to come to her.

I hesitantly peered around the corner, trying to
wipe the smudges off my cheek.
She waited patiently in a rocker, with 
her arms out stretched.

I fled into that all comforting embrace and the crying started
up harder.  I was almost to big for Mom, to hold me.
But hold me she did...and rocked, saying nothing,
just letting my little heartache subside...
stroking my hair, and softly sshhing my tears.
When hic-ups ensued, a little song broke forth, and eventually I joined in.  All was right with the world.

We talked, she comforted...she laughed, and shared stories
of "rocky" friendships she had, had as growing up.
I wanted to believe, that tomorrow
things would be better.

And...it was.

An old chair.

Whenever I go to visit the grand-youngun's I am delighted
when there are a few, who still enjoy climbing 
up on my lap in an old chair.

Love the connection of the rocking back and forth,
it is timeless.  Love to be able to let them 
hear and feel the beating of my heart...love it when they
will humor me, in a soft lullaby.


As one who loves to read, there is nothing more inviting,
than an old chair, with a quilt...and an excuse
to take a short vacation, to where ever 
the story unfolds.


As a lover, I have this fantasy of finding
an old red leather recliner, BIG enough
to hold two...side by side.
I tease my guy about it all the time, he just looks
at me like I have lost my mind, and says..."But who will
get the remote?"

***

Sometimes, we put up walls...not to keep people out,
but to see who cares enough to break 
them down.


Grateful for the timelessness of an old chair,
for the soul it brings into 
our home.

SACRED in the ORDINARY

 ...listen and you will hear,

the breeze brushing softly through the grasses...

birds singing, your own heart beating...

your soul is waking up

and God whispers...

This is for you~

Who of you out there has memories all bottled up inside

 just waiting to be shared.

This picture evokes so many sentiments in life.

The energy, and relentless faith of children.

The belief, that WE could become anything, go anywhere,

do anything... we wanted to.  All we had to do was

DREAM! 

 

Have you ever heard the saying:  "If the dream is 

BIG enough, the facts don't count?" 

I had never heard it until I was an adult.  It was at an

AMWAY meeting.  I was sitting in the 

audience, waiting to

become MOTIVATED!  It must have stuck

in my subconscious, because I have

never forgotten it...and when I

am up against a deadline, seemingly overwhelmed,

out of control, over scheduled...I think of

this, and how much HOPE, it

instilled in me.

***

 

It made me think of the Christmas present

LG, made for me one year.

It was the year we had put some money down

on a hunting camp, in the Teton Wilderness.

What a dream that was.

We had a young family of boys, one daughter...and

another one on the way.

We were "poor" in the pocket book,

but rich beyond our wildest dreams in every other

way.

Our home was nestled at the base of the Teton mountain range,

just a ways off the Snake River.

The holidays were upon us.

The boys went out one afternoon, before their Dad, got home...

looking for the perfect tree.   What they came home with

would have to be propped up in a huge basket I

had in the dining room.

We popped corn, and strung it, along with cranberries off

the branches,  hung candy canes,

and other simple ornaments, on our

"Charlie Brown" tree.  

It was magic.

We scraped enough money together to purchase

a few items from Santa,

and told each other that we would get gifts

next year for the both of us.

And it was good.

Christmas Eve, was coming...

One night just at dusk, I see LG from our window in the 

kitchen bouncing down the snow covered hill

on the back of our snow machine.

He had something on his lap that defied description.

It was a huge, beautiful,

handmade chopping block...adorned with the

most precious grin from my guy.

Now the late nights in his absence were making sense.

He had gone to a friends wood shop

and pieced this beautiful

wood together, making something our kids

will fight over, when we die.

It is the first thing we move, when loading up the truck.

It has become the piece of furniture, that is used for 

everything but a chopping block...a corner table,

 a place of honor at the door, to catch all those odd things

you come home with.

It is the tree stand, since we have gone smaller

in our adornment over the years.

It is a constant reminder...that anything is possible,

if love is in the equation.

LeGrand, had not worked in a wood shop since Jr. High.

But he wanted to do something special.

His DREAM was bigger than our circumstances.

He would come home with

something for his woman, in spite of no money.

We celebrate

the sacred...in the ordinary!