I'll be home for Christmas (if only in my dreams)

We just got back from spending some time in OH with my family. It went by waaaay too quickly, as it always does. If you have never moved away from family, then you might not understand just how hard it is to live just 25 minutes from them one day, then a 6 hour drive away, the next. I'll post more about our visit soon, including some photos too. For now though, I thought I would share something with you.

If you know me from blogland or real life, then you know I'm a country girl at heart. No, I was not raised in the country. My parents teased me several times through childhood with the possibility of moving to the country but sadly we never did. I was the only city girl I knew who was in 4-H. I was the only city girl I knew who begged my parents to let me volunteer at a riding stable the summer I was 13, in exchange for free room and board in a camper parked near the stables. I routinely took quiet walks down a path "across the creek" (as we called it), as it passed a cornfield and ended in the wide open space of a church's back lot acreage. It was my getaway spot and I treasured it.

The country is a spiritual comfort to me. It calms me, soothes me, makes me feel closer to God than any other place I've been on earth. And for seven sweet, wonderfully sweet years I lived there. We bought 3.5 acres and built a home there. My deck and back windows faced west. An unobstructed view of the sunset every single day. In winter, sunsets fell on silken flats of undisturbed snow. The reds and oranges would dance across the glassy surface in a brilliant, warm light display that captivated me.

And the lovely creatures. Deer. Rabbits. Groundhogs. Skunks. Cows and horses grazed just two doors down, as did a few goats and many barn cats. I could sit on my full front porch for hours on end to watch the farmers hard at work in the fields across the road, preparing the soil, planting, and finally harvesting in the fall. The combines. Oh how I LOVED the combines. Some girls love jewelry. Some love clothing. Me? I truly loved the combines. I would gladly spend 4 or 5 hours riding my lawn tractor, taking pleasure in the simple accomplishment of freshly cut rows of grass. But to see the combines meticulously clearing rows and rows of crops at harvest time was absolutely wonderful to me. As I said, country girl at heart.

Now, where was I headed with all this? Oh yeah. On our way back to Indiana, we head south, directly past our old home in the country. We always drive by to catch a glimpse of what once was, to drink it in (if only for a moment) before returning to the suburban life God has called us to during this season. As we passed, I decided to film the "strip" of 11 houses or so that made up my stretch of road in the country. Each home had a similar lot (3+ acres). What was truly beautiful was the coincidence of the song that played on the radio as I filmed. Listen to the line that plays just as we come to a stop in front of our former home. How God blessed me through that "coincidental" moment. Enjoy!

Toni

You'll never guess who I ran into today.

Okay, so! I was moseying through the Dollar store tonight, looking for stocking stuffers and whom should I run into? Why, Mr. Shumway of Big Doofus blog fame. Seriously. I know his name rings a bell for most of you. And for the few who are in the dark, Mr. Shumway is married to Miss Sniz, my dear online AND real life BFF. He had left a message on my cell phone just minutes earlier, asking my dh call him, as they had plans to watch the Bengals game this weekend on Mr. Shumway's Tivo.

I passed the message on to hubs and then?

A matter of minutes later, right before me, stood Mr. Shumway. It was like an episode of The Twilight Zone.
Check phone.
Message from Mr. Shumway.
Pass message on.
Mr. Shumway appears out of nowwhere.
Do do, do do. Do do, do do.

Btw, he was successfully managing 3 adorable little girls in the blazing heat. Oh sure, it was a frigid 30º outside, but in the Dollar store? Well, let's just say one could spend an hour in there and come out minus some water weight. It was smokin' hot and I figured either their thermostat was malfunctioning or I had a nasty case of, oh, say, Malaria. Plus, I was tired and perhaps melting. Not a pretty combo and not the best way to stay awake for a shop-a-thon either (good thing they weren't selling hammocks for a dollar, or I'd have needed a nap from all that heat.)

Anyway, back to the Bengals game. My dh felt like a big heel because he had to cancel on the game night plans. Why? Oh, because one of his teeth dared to need a root canal at this most festive time of year. Really, what were the chances? I'll pause while you let that sink in for a moment.

Yep! At 5:30pm on Saturday, dh will be hearing the drill, drill, drill and the feeling the tug, tug, tug of a root canal (Hey, wasn't there a song by the Police that went something like, "Da drill drill drill. Da tug tug tug, is all I want to say to you,"?) Ah, the sights and sounds of expensive dental work Christmas. Oh, and he needs a crown too, which okay, sometimes is necessary. But sheesh, according to our insurance plan you better choose your toothache battles carefully because they'll only pay for one (count carefully), that's right, O-N-E crown in a 5 year period. ONE. That does it. I'm only feeding Carl mashed potatoes and oatmeal for the next five years.

Who the heck performs root canals on a Saturday at 5:30pm, you ask? Why, Immediadent. Hopefully, it'll be a licensed dentist and everything, especially since Mr. Shumway enlightened me that pliers and Advil might work we had better options within literal walking distance and just didn't know it. It's just that when I picture dh at Immediadent, I hear Buzz Lightyear's comment about the evil Sid playing like a broken record in the back of my mind ("I don't believe that boy ever went to medical school.") Now, I do realize I'm not being very objective and that the dentist may be fully competent to do the root canal. I guess it's the RN in me that feels the need to size up the care specifics.

Mr. Shumway is a very thoughtful person, btw. He was going to have Skyline Chili for the game since it's a big Cincinnati thing and dh is the all out Bengals fan. Only, now I have to laugh because I picture what might have happened if he went to Mr. Shumway's house anyway after the root canal. I see slurred speech and chili drool. ROFLOL! I crack me up. In all seriousness though, I know dh was looking forward to hanging out with the guys. And of all things, a stinkin' root canal.
On a Saturday evening.
At Christmas.
I'm really not making this stuff up, folks. It happens in my life.
Mr. Shumway as my witness.

*****

And as a sidenote, my Reece is upstairs doing "banga banga" as we call it. He's a head banger who sometimes falls to sleep by bouncing his head on the pillow. Sometimes he even hums a catchy tune, as he's doing right now. His banga song of choice?
"The rain came down and the sun came up, the rain came down and the sun came up." Sunday School grads will know this song as The wise man built his house upon the rock.

Toni

The Spirit of Christmas

Ah, the spirit of Christmas. Even the sound of it is divine. And it is only through the profound love of the Father that we have the Son, Emmanuel, God with us, to reflect on at this most beautiful time of year. Don't miss the chance to revisit the heart of Christmas and to offer a praise to the Father for giving us His Son, Jesus Christ, the CHRIST in Christmas. It goes WITH saying that this is the true spirit of Christmas.

Okay, now. As for the "merry" in Christmas, I've posted a few things this past week. There was the tree hunting adventure. And the ornament carnival. And now, my beautiful and dear friend, Miss Sniz, has bestowed the SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS award on me.











"What is the Spirit of Christmas award?" you ask.

Quite simply it is those that have a generous and giving nature. Those who care about others. Those who have a kind word to say or a broad shoulder to lean on in the times that others need that. Those who display the "Spirit of Christmas." You can go here to read about the origin of this blog award.

Given that I looooove Christmas (because I looooove Christ), I am truly honored. And it's really (really) cool to receive this award from Miss Sniz because the blessing of her friendship has been one of the best gifts I received in this particular year from my Father in heaven. And just in case you don't know? Miss Sniz is my friend in the blogging world, yes. But this past summer we came to realize we lived less than 2 miles from one another. The result? She is my very dear friend in real life as well.

And now, I pass this award on to those listed below (and YOU too.)

-Scot over at Attracting and Feeding Birds in Your Yard.
While his blog focus is on birds (and he does an absolutely stellar job of providing really useful information about them), I can tell you firsthand that this guy LOVES Christmas. And I can tell you he demonstrates the spirit of the season in many wonderful ways. I can tell you this because he's my brother. Please do me a big favor and stop by to encourage him as a new blogger.

-Dionna at Using My Voice (because of her fun carnival, but also because she has posted LOTS about Christmas recently.)

-Dee at Just Another Day in Paradise (because you can't miss the flavor of the season at her blog either.)

-Missy of The Three Olivo's (for her candid and often humorous sharing of the season.)

-Julia at A Piece of my Mind (because I absolutely love love love this post and Julia's creative mindset is a gift to me as well.)

-Barb over at A Chelsea Morning. Um.....let me just say this. If Santa were a woman, Barb would be it. You'll want to pour over her blog to find the many (many) Christmas related projects she's completed. You'll quickly discover that not only is she funny and well loved, but she's also nothing short of the energizer bunny. Visiting Barb's blog is always uplifting for me.

Toni

These Are a Few of my Favorite Things

We went to Holiday lights at the Zoo last night.
In the rain.
The "90 percent chance of rain" rain.
Um,...we didn't beat the odds (shocking, I know.)
And yes, those are real sharks swimming by. The kids got to touch some too.
(See our raincoats? Clampetts.)









Party pooper!

















I love this candlestick. I made it. You can too. It requires a retro lamp fixture that you take apart, then glue the plate to the base (with epoxy or another strong glue). Add a candle to the top (the big candles look great but I didn't have one handy) and voila! The more retro the lamp, the better.



Okay, so. I discovered a REALLY FUN carnival started by my new blogging friend, Dionna. I even took it a step further here, because ya know, there are some ugly ornaments on my tree. Do visit her blog to see how you too can participate. And now, without further ado...

The 2007 TONI'S FAVORITE CHRISTMAS ORNAMENTS awards!
FOURTH PLACE:











My fourth place winner is more of an idea, not the ornament itself. It's about buying an ornament annually for each of our children, and one in remembrance of Carl's mom who died of cancer back in 1995. This is one of the many ornaments we're collecting for our children.

THIRD PLACE:












I love this ornament for several reasons. First, it's CUTE! Next, it was created by an Alaskan artist and is a souvenir from our cruise to Alaska back in May of 1999. And finally, it symbolizes a time in our lives when God's hand was about to move in an enormous way. The week before we left for that cruise, we said goodbye to two foster children who were reunited with their birth parents. The day we got home from that cruise, we had a message on our answering machine. The message informed us that the mother of our foster children was making an adoption plan for her unborn child, and she asked our agency if we would adopt her baby. We were literally and totally blown away. That baby is now our oldest daughter. Needless to say, this ornament is precious to us.


SECOND PLACE:










These two ornaments (the star and the peppermint candy) were made for me by my grandmother in her advanced years. I actually have about 12 handmade ornaments from her and they are earthly treasures.

FIRST PLACE:











Is it awesome or what?
Don'tcha wish you had one? You know you do.
Oh, stop frantically searching Ebay, folks. It's truly a one of a kind. Priceless!!!
Whaa??? What is it??? Aw, c'mon now. Don't let envy blur your vision. Why, it's the North Pole, of course. Created by moi, yours truly, ME, back in the first grade. Look carefully and you'll see that it's a split level (just like my house back then) with a window and a door, complete with door handle (though, silly me, I should have known that Santa only needed a chimney to come and go). I know. I knooow! It rocks!!!


AND NOW (drum roll please), a few of the WORST ornaments on the tree.














There are no words! She's missing an eye, for crying out loud.





Um,...need I say more? He's,..he's...what, scary? YES! And why are these still on my tree? Let's just say, I've been outnumbered by a family of ornament pack rats. Wah wah!






Now it's your turn. With Christmas close at hand, I challenge you to share the best and the worst of your holiday splendor as well. Let me know where to stop by when you've posted. Don't forget to stop by and add your name to Dionna's Mr. Linky as well. She came up with a really fun one, y'all. Now jump in!

Toni

Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

Goodness, the Christmas season is keeping me "busy, busy, busy" as Professor Hinkle would say. Thus, the cobwebs on my blog for a season. Now, before I get a few words (or so) in about our Christmas tree, I must first ask you to stop by sweet Becky's blog, Blessed With Olive Plants Around My Table, and read up on her,..well, you'll just have to trust me. Need a good laugh? Then just head over there. She'll deliver, I promise.

Okay, so. Yesterday we cut down our Christmas tree. We saw the pricing list and knew we wouldn't be paying for a Blue Spruce or a Douglas or Fraser Fir. Because, um, OUCH! Just couldn't justify the additional cost. So the tree guy pointed us in the direction of the Charlie Brown trees and off we went. It didn't take long before Carl was sharpening his forestry skills and admiring a particular group of trees.

"These are nice. We should be able to find something here."
"Yeah, but honey, I think those are spruce. No, maybe they're not blue spruce, but what if they're one of those, you know, fir trees? I don't want to get the wrong one."
"Well, I'm sure this isn't blue spruce and I don't think it's a fir either."
(Toni, doubtfully) "Hmmm! I dunno."

Back and forth we debated until I came up with a brilliant solution (hold on, you're gonna love this.) I found a lone bough lying in the snow, picked it up, handed it to Carl and said, "Go ask the tree man what this is."
You knooow I got "the look." But, realizing we had talked ourselves into complete confusion, Carl was off and back in no time.

White spruce.

We chopped down a white spruce. Fat little bugger too. After we hollered our annual, "Timber!", the kids took a candy cane off the Christmas tree in the little cottage where we paid. Reece said, "This candy cane, when I open it mama,....when I eat it, do you want a lick?" Now how could I resist a lick of my 6yo's sticky, messy, licked up Christmas candy cane? Really, it's those very moments of childhood that slip through our fingers like the watercolor ponies Wayne Watson sang about that I'll miss most.

The kids had such a blast decorating the tree today. Our annual tradition includes playing Randy Travis' Christmas CD while decorating. No, we're not big country music fans, but we used to be (back in the Garth Brooks, Randy Travis era.) So, Randy crooned while I attempted to put the lights on. Don't even get me started on how many times I wrapped and unwrapped, wrapped and unwrapped, wrapped and unwrapped those branches in lights.

Clockwise and counter clockwise.

Circles and dizziness for the better part of 30 minutes. And Carl has pine sap allergic reactions so he couldn't take over. Though I must say, I was close to handing him a shot of Benadryl with a smile and a cheering section. I did finally get the lights on. And gee, it only took one, two, three, four passes. Oh, I sooo wish I could tell you I'm kidding, but truth be told, it took four stinkin' rounds of "Put 'em on, take 'em off," before I got it right. I also spent the next hour quickly vacuumed any fallen needles from the carpet. All together now. "JOY TO THE WORLD!"


Our fat tree (complete with town and nativity underneath).













My Olivia doesn't build snowmen. No, Octopus is much more fun. She even used pinto beans for suction on the tentacles.






Poor Cierah had some challenges to overcome. Click on the image to note her puppydog eyes and bootless foot.






Nothing says trouble like a 6yo boy with a snowball in his hand.









My little monster man.













We're a serious bunch, we are.

Toni

'TIS THE SEASON

Yesterday we decided to take the kids to get pictures with Santa at our outdoor shopping mall. Now, I don't know if those ol' Alberta clippers even reach this far (they hit Cleveland like a freight train gone mad when I lived there) but it sure felt like an Arctic blast from parts north to me.
Especially when we had to hoof it from our van to the little Santa bubble in gale force winds and freezing temps, with four kids in tow. "What's a Santa bubble?" you wonder. Well, it's a sort of mini overheated biosphere where Santa roasts in his big red suit and kids inhale germs like happy gas strapped to the anxious mug of a reluctant dental patient.

On our way in (by way of the Arctic circle), Reece inquired as to whether any orphans would be working with Santa.

"Orphans??? What's that?"
"You know, Mom. They wear funny clothes and curled up slippers."
"You mean elves? They're elves, baby. Not orphans."
"Oh yeah. Elves."

So, we enter the Santa bubble and immediately realize that we left our own camera at home. No big, you say? Well, actually it was a big deal. For one, they had a humongous oversized rocking horse.Olivia (age 8) looked like Lily Tomlin as Edith Ann on Laugh-In. She perched herself on that huge horse with her tights and patent leather shoes, long wool coat and blonde locks. It was SUCH a Kodak moment, as she'll consider herself "too grown up" to climb up there in the near future. Sigh. No camera.

Another reason we wanted to have our own camera is because, folks, Santa's pricey. $20 for two stinkin' 5X7's is absurd. Yes, we paid it, but what a racket. We had actually intended to buy the two shots, but had also planned to take a few of our own. Bummer. So, we get all four kids ready and Brandon (11 mos) who had not been fearful of anyone up to that point, decided that Santa Bubble is the perfect place to begin a stranger danger campaign. He looked back cautiously at the bearded man, who said, "Hi, little fella," in a thick Kentucky accent and,........"Whaaaaaa!" It was on. Brandon did not have any intention of cooperating. The girls snapped frantically, waving jingle bells and speaking in high pitched Santa tones that only made it worse. Thankfully, one shot caught Brandon during a much needed inhale and, well, at least he only looks terrified and not outright bawling, right?

After the photo was deemed acceptable (and they gave us a "Clampetts" look because we weren't dropping $50 or more on a "package deal"), Santa asked the kids what they wanted. Reece, who loves round objects, responded.

"I want a new marble tower and a ball thing."

"Marbles and balls. Mmm-hmm. And, anything else?"

"Um," Reece thought carefully before abruptly concluding, "Mommy said only two."
Alrighty then, Mama's got more clout than Santa.

And Olivia was not happy that Santa didn't hand out candy canes, but instead handed out tiny containers of, what else, bubbles (remember, we're in the Santa bubble) and a cheap whistle. Liv's whistle wouldn't blow and she spouted off, "And the guy's supposed to make this stuff?" to which her Dad responded, "Why don't we go back then, and you can bag on Santa for passing out cheesy toys." Gee, I'm glad she doesn't get her sarcastic edge from moi.






















Now then, y'all might remember the beautiful Christmas scene that Miss Sniz recently posted, complete with a gorgeous blazing fire. Well, net pals, I'm not about to be outdone, not even by my dearest Sniz. I had dh fire up a yule log for me too. Isn't she a beauty? Complete with a Cincinnati Reds stocking rested against the hearth for that perfect holiday touch.

















Nothing says classy like a cardboard fireplace, folks. Sure, you might be thinking, "Cheap cardboard," but you'd be wrong. It was previously owned cheap cardboard (because we're green like that, and besides, we've got a "keep up with the Sniz's Joneses" reputation to maintain.) In all seriousness, our kids are getting an absolute kick out of the "prop" (as they called it). Reece was sticking his head up the chimney, realizing it dead ended at the faux mantle. His inquiry? "Will Santa still get burned on these flames if he comes in this way?" No lightbulb moment there.

Finally, we put up our outside lights tonight after the kids were in bed. It was a crisp, cold night but the air was still and the night was wonderfully quiet. We got to work and pulled it off without too much effort. However, I did almost blow out an ankle when I slipped out of our landscape stones and down the sloped grade of our front yard. Carl congratulated me for not breaking anything, while I assured him the pulled back muscle should heal nicely after a few nights of heating pads and a round (or so) of Ibuprofen. If you don't already know this about me, I have a way of entertaining my neighbors when I'm outside. My klutzy exit from our landscape bed tonight was no exception, though I'm fairly certain no one saw.

Hopefully, they didn't see me cutting back hostas and pulling up and bagging their dead leaves either (seeing that it was 30º, 11 o'clock at night, December and snowing; perfect weeding weather, don't you think?) But it was all worth it, truly, because as we finished up, the most beautiful, soft falling but substantial December snow began to fall. I got caught up in the ambiance of the lights, the silent night and the peaceful snow for just a moment, just long enough to thank God for such simple pleasures before heading inside to thaw.

















Now let me just say, when it was said and done, my hands were numb and as red as a beet. I spoke like the rusty Tin Man and my teeth were chattering like crazy. Carl thoughtfully made some much needed chai tea while I warmed myself by the fire.

What?

Oh yeah, right, right. It's only a faux flame. Well okay then, so I indulged in warm thoughts as I sat by my fake (but cozy) fireplace and soothed myself with a cup of deliciously hot chai tea. Indeed, 'tis the season.


Luke 2:8-14
8And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger." 13Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, 14"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

Toni

A measure of progress.

My Reece and Cierah are 14 months apart. Most of you know that we homeschool, and I began this year wondering where best to place them in phonics instruction regarding "grade level" (a term that homeschoolers define a bit differently than traditional schools, as it's easier to simply work at "student level" when you operate a one-room schoolhouse.)

I began the year by placing both children in the same phonics program, noting that Cierah (age 4) was not capable of working the same pace or skill level as her big brother. Reece was already blending three or four letter C-V-C words (consonant, vowel, consonant). Cierah could sound letters out, but not blend them to form words (though was she ever was motivated to learn). Still, I was able to teach most of the phonics curriculum simultaneously to both students, modifying the reading and practice of learned skills to their individual levels.

Worked well.

So well, in fact, that Cierah has decided in the past 3 weeks to just step it into high gear and pass her older brother up in her reading ability. He hasn't noticed (yet) and I am careful not to draw attention to it, as he will likely be sensative to being passed up. He's just a sensative little guy in general.

I feel so blessed to have given my children the gift of reading. My Olivia is a book-a-holic, reading constantly. And she enjoys some very rich subject matter as well, like accounts of Harriet Tubman or Helen Keller. Reece, while not yet reading fluently, has immersed himself in books for a very long time, pouring over images and asking tons of questions. And now 4yo Cierah is discovering her own passion for the printed words on the page.

You know, I reaaally had to laugh tonight though. We were driving around looking at Christmas lights with the kids (yes, folks, that borders on entertainment for a single income family.) The kids were so excited to take it all in, talking out of turn and raising their voices to be heard. It all blurred together for me in a beautiful kind of "freeze this moment in time" symphony. I was drinking it in, when Reece noticed a particular inflatable lawn ornament and exclaimed with hurried excitement, "MOM! DAD! That sign said Haw, Haw, Haw."

Haw? Huh???

I looked back at the house that was quickly disappearing from view and spotted the object of Reece's excitement; the lawn ornament that Reece had read aloud, so proudly demonstrating his phonics skills. For indeed, it would read "Haw, Haw, Haw" based on the phonics rules he's learned thus far. But in reality?

HO! HO! HO! (Okay, now you can "ha ha ha.")

Toni