Another Birthday!

Happy Birthday to this handsome energetic imaginative sparkling personality of a boy! This is Evan Gunnar he is turning 4 on December 3 he belongs to Jen & Jared he is the youngest of their family . This boy is non-stop entertainment he performed for us all the other night with a song and dance that I wish I had recorded. Down below is a link to Youtube with a clip of Payton trying to juggle Evan and sing at the same time what a sweet memory. Happy Birthday Evan, love grandma
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HI0BgSWrkVQ

Back in the day when I could still Cross Stitch

This is a poem that the sisters put together for our Grandma Spencer at the time of her death. We recalled little things about her and the way she would like to have things done.

I wish I would have appreciated her more when I was younger but I didn't. I hate to admit it but I could see no reason why I had to come and drag out all her dishes out the top cupboard and wash them, now I wish I had paid more attention to her stories about her little sugar bowl or creamer.

My sis Janette wanted to do something special with this poem I can not remember which one of us graphed the pattern but we both stitched it and we gave it to our Dad.

This is the house my Dad grew up in, the one I got the old door out of to make the headboard for my memory room. My dad's father was a farmer growing melons, cherries and peaches as I recall. I have very young memories being out on the front lawn helping to sell the produce.

So when I decided to draw up this pattern I had to incorporate certain things the melons were one, Grandma's old blue chair on the little front porch she would sit on and watch life go by and her red tulips.

My Dad's Hands

With my very first post that I started in June, I expressed that I was trying to get over the unexpected death of my Dad the road is getting smoother to travel, but boy do I miss the old guy.
This is a video we put together at the time of my Dad's funeral. With the rush of all the things to get done at a time like this, it got a little hectic and I gave the video to someone else to finish for me and in the process it got out of sequence so they day it played at his funeral it was okay but it was not in the order that I had wanted. Dad has been gone now 19 months, and my daughter has given me the best present ever for my birthday she has re-made and tweaked it a little for me getting it back in order. Thank you Kacy, I hope you know how much it has meant to me. We also had a audio recording of his service made that we were given copies of I keep setting a date as to which to listen to all the wonderful talks we had that day, I haven't been able to do that quite yet. Everyone that was present that day told us it was the best funeral they had been to in a long time. Yes Dad, you would have been proud of everyone, it was the best.

Listening to some of Johnny Cash's songs I came across this song that I had never heard. I could not help to think about my Dad's white hair, he turned gray at a very early age and after raising four daughters I am sure we all helped a little to speed it a long to white.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6JNK4elo7k

These Hands

The first time I heard this song was at the funeral of my friend Kathy's father. She had grown up in a small town with a big family and a father that was a hardworking man who instilled that into his children. When I heard this song I thought about my own Dad and how much these words related to him also. It was at that time I decided I needed to start taking pictures of his hands.
I have been fascinated by hands for a long time, from getting tracings of grandchildren and putting them on aprons for the grandmothers, tracing Dennis's Grandmothers hand Afton and making a replica of it using one of her old quilts.
The first Christmas after Dad had died I had this picture made up and gave them has gifts, I was not the only one who had the same idea my daughter Kacy made up a different version and those are the two pictures that I have in my Room of Memories.

My Grandfathers Hands

Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands.

When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was OK.
Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK.
He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him. "Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at
your hands? I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down.
No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.


Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have how they have served you well throughout your years.
These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.
They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.
They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.
As a child my Mother taught me to fold them in prayer.
They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.
They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.
They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when
I buried my Parents and Spouse and walked my daughter down the aisle.
Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole
and lifted a plow off of my best friends foot.
Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.
They have held children, consoled neighbors,
and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.
They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.
And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well
these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home.
And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ ."

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached
out and took my Grandpa's hands and led him home.
When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children
and wife, I think of Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and
held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel
His hands upon my face.
Poem written by Melinda Clements

Collector of Dust

Among my dust collection one of my favorites are my toasters. How many toasters does one girl need.. well at first I thought I would only need four, one for each of my children. That way when I kick the bucket they could have something fun to remember me by. Well as the years went buy the collection remained at four until one day I found the cutest toaster I had ever seen and I brought it home and placed it on the cupboard, when my son Jared came home and seen the new toaster he immediately thought I was announcing that I was pregnant, sorta like having a bun in the oven he figured it was bread in a toaster! After that my collection has grown. Most people when they enter my kitchen and see them have no idea what they are, it is fun to take them down blow the dust off and show them how they work.

com·passion

: sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it


Sue sent this link to me this morning http://babymckallister.blogspot.com/
I can not help but think about them and the heartache they feel. As a mom and grandma this would be so unbearable. But their strength in God is overwhelming and will help them carry on. I was truly humbled by reading about this young couple. Be prepared, if you choose to read about them get your kleenex first.

Down at the bottom

I have added a couple of more slide shows, trying to get myself siked to decorate for Christmas.

**BIRTHDAY*BIRTHDAY*BIRTHDAY**

It's this sweet baby girl's birthday all though she is not a baby anymore!
This is my daughter -in-law Jennifer.
She is smart ,witty, and a great addition to our family.

She was a beautiful bride considering she had to have an emergency appendectomy a few days before her wedding, but she made it thru!





















But of all my favorite pictures of Jen is this one, on the day of Noah's birthday, she had waited a long time to become a mother and those sweet little tears on her cheeks says it all!
Happy Birthday Jen, I love you.

Body World

We went and seen this last night yes it was very interesting, wish it could have been in a bigger space less crowded and the light could have been better Mom struggled in the darkness not being able to see what she was stepping on or who she was stepping on so we skipped around a bit we pushed Noah around in the stroller and had fun listening to him talk he was such a good baby. Payton and Alex went with us they were amazed at what they seen.

http://theleonardo.org/bodyworlds/the-exhibit/

A Room of Memories

At the time I started to redo this little bedroom I had no idea what it would come to mean after it was done. I had started this room before my Dad died , Dennis and I were down at the shop building the closet doors when my sister called and told me Dad had fallen. Dennis got me home so I could continue up to the hospital. That is when life was forever changed and time stood still for awhile. It seemed to take forever to get back to the room picking paint color was impossible to do then one day I decided I wanted to try a red leather faux , Kacy Jo came up to help and we bumbled our way through it. I think we finally got the technique down about the last 12 inches of wall, I think we did okay considering it was the first time we had ever done this.Once we got two walls done then I needed to decide what to do with the other walls can not remember how long it took to pick out the second color.
I know the one thing I wanted to work with was a quilt I had made while down in California when I stayed with Mom while Dad had his heart surgery, I thought a lot about my family has I pieced this together seeing what my parents were going through at this time and worrying about my family back in Utah. It was my first BIG quilt I had ever made and so far my only one.
Finally getting all the painting done then it was time to fill it up, so many things in this room have special meaning to me so I will bore you with the details of some.
The twig heart wreath I watched my Dad make with Mckaela sitting by his side one day out in the backyard. Little things that many friends have made me or given to me. *You are my sunshine* picture was given to me by my early morning exercise group, Sharla, Michelle , Ellen and Anell that was the song sung by all the great-grandchildren at my Dad's grave. My friends Kathy and Gayle have things in this room made by them.
The little picture of my Dad's mother when she was young and around her neck is a locket from the Chicago Worlds Fair that my sister is the proud owner of. Her little wood jewelry box with the yellow flower.
The beautiful collage my cousin Heidi made up is a treasure, my Grandmother, my Mom and Aunt Dianne and Susan pictured all together.
A round box decorated by my grand-kids with love notes inside to read and cherish.
An old dresser given to me from Crystal still have not painted it, liking the way it is I guess.
The window treatment was an ordeal plan *A* did not work plan *B* can not remember plan *C* ended up being what you call a stage coach blind you roll up from the bottom and tie it in place. You know that saying "Never a mistake just happy accidents" I guess that is what it turned out to be. There are two different pictures of my Dad's hands that are very special, I will go into that another day.
But the one thing I love the most is the headboard. This is my dads bedroom door. I drove past the old house my Dad grew up in now owned by someone else and seen it outside being used as a make shift rain-gutter, I immediately stopped and knocked on the door and asked the gal if I go get her something better for a rain gutter if I could have that door and told her why,, she looked at me like I was crazy but she said "YES' so I came in possession of the door, my sister Denice and I lived in this house when we were in high school so it was our bedroom door also, probably slammed it at each other a few times having our little fights, to stop and think of how many of my relatives touched this old door what a memory!
One of the memories my Cousin Kenny tells about me is peeking through the basement window of this bedroom when he and Helen were visiting on their honeymoon!! Guess that is one thing I do not remember which is probably a good thing.
I am sorry this is so long I usually try to keep things short.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SIS

Yep the old gal will turn another year older on November 7th! This is Ina Denice, she was named after Mom's mother. She has been living in Wisconsin now for quite a few years, she works hard at TREK building bikes that Lance Armstrong has made famous. She can entertain like no one else!

Look how pretty she is in this wedding photo next to my Dad, I guess you can tell it was the 70"s!! They are both very snazzy don't you think? It looks like she rented the flowers form the Wizard of Oz movie. Just waiting for the little munchkins to pop out and start singing. Hope you have a great day in the land of cheese.

Love ya

Happy Birthday In Shanghai

This is my niece who's birthday it is today. She has taken a teaching position in Shanghai for this year She is not new to traveling, she has lived in Finland and did extensive traveling while living there. Have a good one Stephanie

THIS OLD TRUNK the best Mothers Day ever

This Old Trunk

Don’t be fooled by this old trunk, I’m sure you could not guess,
It lived a very different life quite some time ago and yet....
It used to be a big brown piano, many years ago,
Played by a beautiful mother who loved her children so.

As fate would have it, her parting came all too soon,
Giving up a mother’s dream, …never to play another tune.
She didn’t want to leave that day, but a special call came,
Leaving behind her children, things would never be the same.

Over the years the memory of her music would ring through and through,
In the home of her second daughter whose talents matched her mother’s too.
As three generations ran their fingers over the black and white keys,
Playing the simple songs,....she surely would have been pleased.

Fate took its toll on the old brown piano, no more could it sing,
No more could it play the music that was fit for a king.
What could you do with an old piano whose life had come to an end?
The heart of this old piano would soon be on the mend.

Given to your youngest daughter to fix and appreciate it’s worth,
A grand-daughter who knew Grandma, before she came to earth.
A gentleman with many talents and skills would help renew,
And now it is a memory box filled with none too few,.....

The photographs of loved ones and mementos placed inside,
To remind us of “Her” music that fate could not and would not hide.
The talents of this special Angel, the one you called Mother,
Will always and forever be in the hearts of all those who knew her.



Written for Mom, Nadine on - Mother’s Day 5/2004

My Grandmother was Hattie Ina Heiner Fry, she died at the early age leaving behind three sons and three daughters the youngest being two years of age. She had many talents singing, sewing and playing the piano was just a few. I was born several years after her death, I really missed out on getting to know an amazing woman. This is the story of her piano.



This piano had been left to my Aunt DiAnne , she is my Mom's sister. Not only did DiAnne play , her children and grandchildren have played upon this old piano. Then as fate would have it, while on vacation my Aunts house sprung a leak of the worst kind doing much damage to her home and possessions . She was broken hearted to see what had happened especially to her Mother's piano. It was beyond repair when she told me the story I told her maybe she could recycle it??Well the next thing I new she had professional piano movers delivering to my house to my garage. She said it was mine to do what ever I wanted to do with it ,,,, what have I gotten my self into I thought. Then one day Dennis and I started to tear it apart, it moaned and groaned in the worst way almost crying out in pain ( that sounds a little dramatic?) did we really think we could make something of it. Dennis is a carpenter by trade with his skill we worked hard and turned it into a trunk and two lamps and we still have parts left over for future who knows what. I gave the trunk to my Mom so she could put all her photos in it, she also got one of the lamps the other I gave to my Aunt DiAnne. In side the lid of the trunk I placed my Grandmother's picture along with the poem that I and others helped with. I still remember the emotion and spirit that was in the room the day that we presented it to my Mom it was truly the best Mother's Day in my life.