Labor Day on the Prairie

I’m not sure how it happened – but it seems like yesterday was mid-July and now Labor Day week-end is over!

And once again we filled it full of family and fun – spending the weekend at my parents with most of my extended family at our 27th Annual Labor Day celebration.

We now have three generations making memories on the Prairie (as the grandkids call Papa Jim and Nana’s place).

Three generations that include our Indy, who was a rock star at her first Labor Day celebration! It seems like just yesterday that my kids were the littles on the prairie – and now I’m the Nana introducing Indy the wonders of Great Papa and Great Nana’s house.

With the official count at 51 – we had tents and hammocks and cars everywhere!

So much laughter!

So much food!

So much fun!

So many old traditions to keep up, like Annie Annie Over, massive bonfires, s’mores, making Puppy Chow at midnight and playing Peanuts.

And the annual trek to The Rock, with Papa driving all the little’s in a wagon.

Since it was 45 Labor Day weekends ago that my parents moved us to the prairie, into the big old farmhouse they had moved in and that was not yet finished…

…we celebrated 45 years of memories watching old videos on a red neck movie theater on the lawn that the guys improvised by hanging a movie screen on some 2 X 4’s from the bucket of Uncle Delbert’s tractor.

It was a beautiful reminder of the legacy my parents have built.

A home full of love and memories.

A place of belonging that brings us back year after year.

A family that is bound together by laughter and tears.

We are truly blessed.

Photo credits go to my sister Sandy! I was so busy being Nana that I did not take a single picture all weekend!

A Shower of Blessings

My wonderful sisters threw a baby shower for Laura and my new granddaughter.

Seeing dear family for the first time since before Thanksgiving, and enjoying the table full of family favorites (so much chocolate!) was enough to make my heart happy.

But there was more, so much more.

Each woman there personally handed Laura a gift, thoughtful and wonderful gifts, and with it, words of wisdom and encouragement.

Bible verses, stories, lessons learned, solid counsel, practical insights, hilarious true stories.

We laughed and cried and showered the expectant mama with love.

My heart was so blessed as I heard the women speak, and I saw their hearts and I felt their love.

Three generations of women.

Strong and faithful women.

All there for my daughter and grand baby.

Truly it was a shower of blessings.

A Different Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving with my husband’s family was a little different this year.

There were fewer faces around the table and that table was sitting in a house that was slowly being emptied.

It has been a year of change and transitions which included a cancer diagnosis for Jan’s dad and several rounds of chemo.

And in just a few weeks, Jan’s parents will be moving out of their large four bedroom family home into a senior living apartment.

There has been a lot of cleaning and sorting and giving away.

Several rooms sit almost empty. Others have furniture noticeably missing.

But the dining room table was still there. And the fine china wasn’t packed. So Jan’s mom borrowed my roaster and did the turkey while the kids and I made sides and desserts.

We enjoyed one last Thanksgiving in the family home, just them and us and a couple of close friends.

It was one short day. No overnight. No extended family.

But we missed them.

There was no coffee run and Black Friday shopping. No late night Clue Game and pumpkin pie. No grand kids sprawled all over the family room.

And I missed spending time with my sisters-in-law; gals who are related only by marriage but have become some of my dearest friends. Bonded together by years of late night talks in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

It was a different Thanksgiving. Quieter. Shorter.

There were a few tears. But there was also laughter.

We’ll get his parents settled in the new apartment in the new few weeks and then we’ll find some new traditions.

It will be different.

But in the end, it’s not the place, but the people that matter.

And for them, I am very thankful.

Memory Lane

We had another little walk down memory lane last weekend as I met my siblings at mom and dad’s for our second annual sibling weekend.

Rain and cold kept us from many of the outside projects that we had planned – but we braved the north wind for one last visit to grandpa’s barn – which is scheduled to come down this weekend.

It’s listing even more than last year – if that’s even possible.

We rescued barn doors and gates and wrestled off century old siding to be passed out among children and grandchildren and great grand children to be used in projects and flower gardens.

All the while sharing memories of our times at Grandpa’s farm. Laughing about the time grandpa paid us to paint the barn – and we painted the snouts of his curious pigs as they came sniffing around the side. Grandpa was not impressed. Or happy. And we were asked to not do it again!

The cold, rainy weather also gave us time to dig through some heritage boxes in the afternoon, meeting ancestors, hearing family legends and uncovering treasures.

Like my Grandma’s diary – giving a rare glimpse of her daily life as a farmer’s wife and mother. Seeing her through new eyes and appreciating her all the more.

And my great, great Grandma Foltge Jurgena’s passport. She emigrated from Ostfriesland, Germany in the 1800’s with her husband and children.

We held in our hands a piece of history. Our history. And I wondered why they came? Was it hard to leave? How did they say good-bye to family? Pay for the trip? Start over in a new country with a new language?

But I’m so glad they did. Or I wouldn’t be here. Thank you Albert and Foltge.

We spent the evening as we did many times growing up – gathered around in the living room eating popcorn and watching family slides.

Remembering family trips and birthdays.

Laughing hysterically at our younger selves in all our awkward cuteness.

Reliving the joy and craziness of everyday life with five siblings, vivid imaginations, and an old farmstead for a playground.

Precious snapshots of days long gone.

Glimpses of who were and how we lived.

And of those who went before us – parents, grandparents and great great grandparents – who made it possible.

We are truly blessed.

Lessons from Christmas

Christmas is over. The tree is down. The lights are packed away and we’ve finally found a normal schedule again. I think.

But as I reflect on the craziness of the last few weeks I’ve decided that this Christmas season has taught me a few lessons.

1. When you give your brother-in-law an elf hat for Christmas and he puts it on with his new safety glasses and then he grabs a tape measure and pretends to be one of Santa’s elves making toys – you immediately take a picture and put it on your blog.

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Because you can.

And it’s hilarious and he will never see it anyway.

I hope.

2. Changing all the light bulbs in the house on Christmas Eve day to LED might make sense economically – but will create bad lighting for selfies and other photo ops and drive your camera loving daughter crazy.

And certainly don’t help my photography skills. Or lack thereof.

But aren’t those kids cute! (just missing a son-in-law who was on duty Christmas Eve!)

3. After 26 years of attempting a beautiful ice cream log for Christmas – I have finally accepted the fact that it will never look good and will quite possibly always look like something less than attractive.

And well – less than appetizing.

Which is why we shall always eat by candlelight on Christmas Eve.

3. The stomach flu is always nasty – but it’s extremely unwelcome when it attacks on Christmas Day.

No pictures. You’re welcome.

4. Having a house full of family can wipe out a stocked refrigerator quickly. I took three grocery runs the week between Christmas and New Years – mostly for coffee and vegetables.

The coffee I expected but the veggies were a new and surprising development.

5. Speaking of surprising developments – I have lots of Christmas goodies now hidden in the freezer. While my children pigged out over Christmas weekend, by New Year’s they had decided to eat healthy.

Go figure.

At their current rate of consumption, Jan and Buddy should have them gone by Easter. I hope.

6. I love playing games with the family at Christmas. Really, really love it.

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Especially new games like this one – Ticket to Ride. Which is my new obsession.

I even won a few times – at least until my new son-in-law arrived. Hmmm…somebody should tell that guy it’s not good manners to beat your Mother-in-law at her favorite new game, at her house on Christmas. Good thing I like the guy.

7. Actually – I love them all – the whole crazy bunch! And carving out time together with crazy schedules to be together is the best Christmas memory of all!

Hope your holidays were special!

In Which I Embarrass Myself – Again

We were gathered in my parent’s kitchen the day after Thanksgiving.

There were at least four conversations going on around us when my brother-in-law said to me, “I read your blog about the bladder.”

I look up quizzically, “A blog about the bladder?”

Then one of my sisters chimed in, “Oh yeah – you remember – the time we four sisters drove to Minnesota for Uncle Dale’s funeral.”

Then all of my sisters started adding to the story for the benefit of everyone standing in the kitchen.

“Teresa was driving and you had to go to the bathroom and there was no place to stop till we got to Faribault.”

“But there was road construction and all the exits to Fairbault were closed.”

(Seriously – is that even legal to c lose every exit to a city?!”)

“You were so desperate you begged her to stop at the port-a-potty in the median but she wouldn’t.”

“So you had to wait all the way to Owatonna and were so miserable!”

“And Sandy – enjoying your misery way too much starting singing songs about water!”

“There shall be showers of blessing…”

“Some through the waters, some through the flood….”

“Even Winnie the Pooh’s – And the rain, rain came down down down a mighty rushing river…”

(Each new song brought a new round of laughter from my sisters. So cruel!)

“And when we finally got to Owatonna, you ran all the way through McDonald’s to find the ladies room!”

At this point the entire kitchen is laughing.

“But wait” I said, “I never wrote a blog post about that event. I would never put that on my blog – it’s much too embarrassing.”

My brother-in-law stops laughing just long enough to say, “I didn’t say bladder – I said ladder, you know the blog post about the attic stairs.”

Oops.

The Orange Chair Adventure

Three generations of women.

One grandma. Four aunts. A slew of cousins.

One day of adventure.

One amazing niece who hosted and made the arrangements.

Many miles traveled to enjoy a day of memory making.

A flea market. Antique stores. Curiosity Shops. The Emporium.

Giggles. Laughs. Secret purchases.

Crazy driving.

A Mediterranean lunch.

Discovering gyros, schwarma, and garlic sauce.

Finding the perfect orange chair and recruiting cousins to help carry it out of the store, across the busy street, and down two blocks.

Then watching two amazing aunts figure out how to get it in the back of the mini van already packed with bodies and purchases.

Seizing photo ops to remember the day.

A snapshot in time.

Precious people.

Precious memories.

And of the course – the big orange chair.

Priceless.

Last Hurrah of Summer

We had one last hurrah of summer over Labor Day weekend.

One last weekend together with my family before the activities of the fall sucked us into it’s whirlpool.

My parents. Siblings. Spouses. Nieces. Nephews. Cousins.

Family.

Three generations under one roof.

Filling every minute. Squeezing out every bit of fun.

Tubing down the West Fork with cousins – twice.

Eating.

Hiking to the rock – twice.

Eating.

Laughing till our sides ached.

And eating some more.

Sitting on the porch watching the storm blow in – feeling the changes that were surely coming.

Remembering the past.

Relishing the present.

Anticipating the future.

Making hot sticky memories to enjoy all winter.

One last hurrah.

A Good O’ Snow Storm

I love a good snow storm.

The temperature drops as the wind picks up, blowing fresh snow, closing schools and roads.

Everything stops.

The calendar gets cleared.

My busy day turned into a vacation day.

I can hunker down in my nice warm house with my family around me and rest.

No schedule. No obligations.

There’s a bit of excitement in the air, almost a holiday atmosphere.

The kids sleep in.

Fresh scones for breakfast – maybe some homemade hot chocolate later.

No traffic goes by.

We’re isolated in our little world – surrounded by a blanket of white.

The wind howls.

The furnace hums.

And my soul rests.

Later, when the wind dies down, we’ll pull out the sleds and the cross country skies. Ready to slowly rejoin the rest of the world, reveling in the stillness and beauty after the storm. Refreshed after our unexpected day off.

But now is the time to cocoon.

For hot tea and warm quilts.

For jig saw puzzles and family games.

A time to savor home and family.

Oh yes, I love a good snow storm!

Adjustments

Many of you have asked how I’m doing now that my first born has the flown the coop.

And the truth is – just fine!

Those of you who have already experienced this massive undertaking are smiling right now. You knew it would be like this. 🙂

My mom told me that the first parting is always sad but it doesn’t take long for a new normal to emerge.

She was right.

Once the car left the driveway and Matt was on his way to Colorado – we watched the dust settle. Then we went in the house, picked up the school books and kept working.

That night we set the table for 6.

We divided up his household responsibilities with some of the younger ones stepping up and doing more.

Dagmar commandeered the massive desk in his room as her new “office”.

His siblings have made free with his extensive CD collection.

We savor his weekly phone call and pass the phone around the family until everyone has had a chance to catch up.

And yes – we miss him. But as my friend Cinnamon told me, “No matter where he is, he will always be a part of you.”

I understand that now.

We pray for him at every meal, remember him in family stories and jokes, and make plans to convince him to lose the beard. 🙂

We’ve learned that when he’s where God wants him to be, doing what God wants him to do – there’s an incredible peace.

Even in the goodbyes.