Chuckwagon and a Movie

When most people invite their friends over for a barbecue, they heat up the grill and throw on some burgers.

But not Dave and Lillian.

Oh no. They go all out!

When they invite you to a barbecue what they really mean is a cowboy feast!

Complete with a chuck wagon.

And an incredible pit master who used a smoker and a campfire to cook up some mighty tasty meats.

Well done, Dave!

Ribs, brisket, pork loin, chicken. Even a few hot dogs for the kiddos.

All served up on a hay rack, cowboy style.

i heard one old-timer tell a newby to “wear his loosest pants, no belt and don’t tuck your shirt in”.

Yep, it was one of those kind of meals.

You ate till it hurt, then you ate some more because it was just so good!

Then, as the sun went down, we all gathered in the barn with our lawn chairs.

All ready to watch a movie on the big screen.

And I do mean a big screen!

Four king sized sheets sewed together and attached to the front of the barn.

Now that’s creativity!

With the sun setting behind us, the heat of the day gave way to cool evening breezes as we settled down with popcorn and twizzlers to enjoy the show.

What a fun way to spend a Saturday night!

Ten Years Already!

Ten years ago this week I published my very first blog post here on Blue Jeans and Cotton Tees.

Ten years was a long time ago.

George W. Bush was president.

The first iPhone was introduced.

And the Boston Red Sox won the World Series.

On the home front, we were on the farm, living in the old house and home schooling all five kids, ranging in age from 15 to 6.

So much has changed since then.

Today – I home school just one.

We’ve graduated four and added one son-in-law.

We moved to the new house.

Added cows.

And Jan started working in town.

Ten years. Wow.

I started blogging on a massive desk top with a tower that took up half the desk.

Now I click away on my little laptop.

My first photos were taken on a chunky digital camera that could do about ten pictures before the battery died, edited in ancient software and took 10 minutes to upload on our dial-up.

Today I take pictures on my iPhone and edit and upload within minutes.

At the time it was common for bloggers to give their young kids a blog name to protect them in the massive, unpredictable blogosphere.

Matt already had a successful blog and online presence – I used his real name.

Laura was the only one of our children to never have a nickname stick. She chose Dagmar as her blog name from her favorite movie at the time I Remember Mama.

Peter’s blog name was easy – Pedro. But he also earned the nickname “Crash” following an incident involving the 4 wheeler and a multiflora rose bush.

Anna was given her blog name, Angel Girl, by her daddy years ago. Every Sunday morning I would pull her hair back and fasten it with her very favorite “pretty pretty” (a hair piece with a lacy flower and ribbons). It looked like a little halo on her head and daddy called her his little “angel girl”.

Nathan was always the Little Buddy. But at almost 17 and taller than I am, he’s ready to move on.

They all are. So from here on, their blog names are no more! You are welcome kids. You’ve earned it. Thank you for letting me tell your stories here. You’ve given me some awesome blog fodder through the years and I’m sure there’s more to come!

Ten years.

And you, my readers, have been there.

You’ve watched my children grown up.

You’ve rejoiced with me.

You’ve wept with me.

And you’ve laughed with me.

Thank you for taking time out of your day to read the ramblings of this Country Gal who loves playing with words and always dreamed of having something published.

Your comments and words of encouragement have meant so much to me! Thank you!

And now – it’s time to celebrate!

In honor of ten years – I plan to dig a favorite blog post out of the archives occasionally and share it again. Some of my favorites, the most searched, the funniest, the most embarrassing.

I’ll clearly label them “From the Archives” so you can easily tell the old from the new posts.

And don’t worry – there are some posts that need to stay well hidden in the dark recesses and may never see the light of day again!

Ten years is a lot of words.

Thanks for reading them.

A Super Soup Supper

It started with a random comment at a 4H meeting.

The swing set at the park in our small rural community was in sad state and the baby swing was broken.

“We should take it on as a 4H project!” they said.

Great idea! But we’re a very small club. We would need to raise some money.

The easiest fund-raiser for a club of six kids? A soup supper.

Excitement built as we set a date, planned a menu and and printed hand-outs.

The kids made posters and the leaders and the moms (all five of us) started baking, cutting veggies, and making soup.

The food started arriving early on the night of the supper.

And so did the community.

Lots of them.

On a raw March evening with the skies threatening snow, we packed the tables in our community hall.

Moms dished the soups, but our 4H kids were a part of everything else – keeping veggie plates filled, plating desserts, pouring drinks, busing tables, washing dishes.

And they were excited! You could see it in their eyes. This was big. Way bigger than we imagined.

Half way through we started adding to the soups to stretch them.

And still they came.

A cross section of community. Retired couples, young families, grandparents with grandchildren.

All there for the kids. For the park. For the future.

Some even brought desserts to add to our offerings.

The tables were never empty and our donation box was filling up.

When the last guest buttoned up and headed out in the cold and those now exhausted kids had helped clean up, we opened up the donation box and counted the money.

Their excitement was infectious as the pile of bills added up!

And up and up.

The total surpassing our expectations by many, many dollars.

This went way way beyond just a new baby swing and some fresh paint!

This could get memorial trees for our two 4H members killed in a car accident last summer!

This could get a handicapped swing!

The ideas were flying as we turned out the lights and headed home.

Exhausted but exhilarated.

Those six kids learned some very valuable lessons that night.

About having an idea and how to make it happen.

About working hard and serving others.

And about community and what can happen when we work together.

It was a pretty super soup supper!

VBS Week

It was VBS week this week.

Many of you are nodding right now. You know exactly what VBS week means.

Busy days, late nights and exhaustion!

But also fun, laughter and blessings.

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I worked with an incredible group of kids!

A crazy bunch of teens who served with their whole hearts and kept me laughing!

13686678_1271086162904327_3183896377120225765_n They memorized, rehearsed, and brought the characters of the nightly skit to life.

Teaching truth, sharing the gospel, and loving on the kids.

13668948_1270739699605640_8980708736091413003_n Games.

Crafts.

Bible lessons.

Snack time.

I sat back each night and watching God work in and through these servants.

And I was blessed.

Independence Day in Small Town America

We joined the crowd of people in the little Missouri town of Allendale today.

Every July 4th since 1964, this little town with a population of 53 (more or less) have been serving up an Independence Day breakfast for upwards of a thousand people.

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That’s a 52 year old tradition.

Neighbors greeting neighbors.

Entire families sitting around picnic tables.

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Three generations of men manning row after row of grills frying sausages and eggs.

Making toast.

Pouring coffee and juice.

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Flipping piles of pancakes on a rotating grill.

Pounds of butter.

Gallons of syrup.

There were flags flying.

A band stand decorated and filled with patriotic songs.

Kids playing.

And veterans honored.

Made me proud to be an American.

Made me thankful for all those who sacrificed so much for my freedom.

Made me remember that it’s people like this – all over our nation – that make America great.

Thank you, Allendale, Missouri!

And God bless the USA!

2016 Iowa Caucuses

Listen….

Do you hear that?

That is the sound of normal.

No more robo-calls, town hall meetings, multiple mailings, and endless political commercials.

The 2016 Iowa Caucuses are over.

The political season started in the spring and went into overdrive last weekend.

For months we’ve listened to candidates in cafes, courthouse lobbies, parks, college campuses, and private homes.

We shook their hands, asked hard questions, and weighed their responses.

We read, discussed, contemplated and ultimately decided.

And last night the entire world watched as we gathered in schools, and legion halls, and community centers across the state to make our choices.

We sat with our friends and neighbors, recited the pledge and cast our ballets on little pieces of paper.

Proud to be Americans.

Proud to be Iowans.

And today it’s over.

The craziest caucus season I can remember is one for the history books.

We’re back to seed, fertilizer, and pick-up truck commercials.

The phone is silent except for friends and neighbors.

And my Facebook feed is more weather, recipes and cute babies than political conversation.

And normal feels good.

Have fun New Hampshire! The circus is on it’s way!

Amish Auction

Big doings in the neighborhood last week!

One of our Amish neighbors had a moving auction.

So what does an Amish auction look like?

A lot like a regular auction – except you could bid on buggies and pony carts and horse drawn equipment and wood cook stoves.

And there’s lots of Amish folks around.

They came from all over.

Some in horse and buggies.

Some in vans with hired drivers.

Whole families.

It was like a party.

Friends seeing friends they hadn’t seen for awhile.

Several of the teens put up volleyball nets in the pasture and played while the bidding went on.

Speaking of bidding…

Those Amish ladies may look serene and nonchalant – but boy can they bid when they want something!

I lost out on a couple things because I couldn’t tell the bonnets apart and didn’t know who had the bid.

I did score a set of three pretty glass jars to store sewing supplies.

But then I had to carry them around the rest of the morning – which kept me from bidding on the Amish cook stove – which may have been a good thing.

We stayed long enough to see the horses auctioned off at noon because I really wanted to see an Amish horse auction.

I kept my hands in my pockets though.

But we didn’t stay long enough to see the farm equipment go – we probably don’t really need a manure spreader with steel wheels anyway.

But we did see all the neighbors, caught up on the news, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

I love a good auction!

VBS

This year’s VBS is now history.

What took weeks to plan and prepare for – was over in the blink of an eye.

We had drama.

And laughter.

And suspense.

And lots and lots of trench coats.

And we had music.

And silly games – both inside and out – because of course we had rain.

We did crafts.

And got snacks from a crazy snack lady person.

And had an absolutely incredible group of volunteers – including some amazing teenage helpers and actors.

But most importantly –

We had lots of precious children who heard about the One True God.

And that made every detail worth it.

A Wild West Kinda Day

Last week was a humdinger – let me tell you.

The poison ivy went systemic and even with steroids, it continued to spread.

But I made it. It was by the grace of God and lots of help, that we were able to host our all-day VBS here on Saturday.

And I do mean a lot of help.

Somehow backdrops got painted, the building was emptied, props were found, lines were learned and some incredible teens preformed some hilarious skits that both entertained and taught truth.

These kids rock.

Somehow benches got painted and cement blocks found, a herd of stick horses was created, and a sound system set up in a building that has no electricity.

Snacks were made, hamburgers grilled, watermelon cut, dishes washed and everyone was fed, three times.

Flubber was made, crafts prepared and rattlesnakes bought. Games were set up, torn down, and the new ones prepped. Again and again.

It was an intense day.

It took an army of people.

Servants.

Quietly doing what needed to be done.

Teaching truth.

Living out God’s love.

I was humbled and blessed.

Amish Eggs

My new little layers just aren’t laying enough eggs yet to feed the family.

So now, once a week, I head over to the Amish produce stand to buy a few dozen Amish eggs.

This never fails to make me smile.

Every time I pull in, I’m greeted by some smiling Amish children.

I buy my eggs and maybe a melon or a cucumber and watch as they carefully count out my change. It’s worth the drive just to see that!

But my latest trip was the best yet. When I got to the stand I saw three little Amish girls, their height like stair steps, probably ages seven and five and three. But I didn’t see any eggs, so I asked about them.

The oldest of the three little girls had a look of panic, then a hurried consultation in Pennsylvania Dutch with the next biggest.

The middle girl took off across the driveway to the shop (I guess to ask mom or dad) , while the oldest smiled at me and said it would be just a minute. We then had a very interesting conversation about turkeys, squash bugs, green beans, sweet corn, and how much we needed rain.

I must say, I was impressed with her conversation skills!

All the while the youngest girl just stared at me with great big eyes underneath her prayer bonnet.

Then middle child rushed back in the stand, grabbed a long hoe from the back and rushed out again.

Oldest just smiled at me and said, “We’ll have some eggs soon.”

I was puzzled, wondering how a hoe could bring us eggs?

Then I heard a bell. As I stepped around the stand, I saw middle child with hoe in hand swinging it over her head for all she was worth, so the metal part would ring an old school bell that was missing it’s rope.

She hit it every other time. But it was just enough to bring someone out of the house.

A volley of Pennsylvania Dutch was exchanged and within 5 minutes a little Amish boy (obviously one step up the stair steps from the oldest girl) ran in with my eggs. They then consulted over how much I owed them, even grabbing a piece of paper to do some figuring.

Another five minutes and I had my eggs, a zucchini, a cucumber, a handful of change, and a big smile.

Buying eggs at the grocery store was never this much fun!