Papa’s Waffles

I’m having waffles in the morning made by my husband.  I know that because our little granddaughter is spending the night with us and she always wants Papa’s waffles for breakfast.  When we go to bed she gives Papa her “cutie” smile and in her “cutie” voice she asks:  

Papa, will you fix waffles in the morning?

Of course he will.  He is such a pushover for that smile and that voice.

I love maple syrup with my waffles with lots and lots of butter.  But my granddaughter calls for grape jelly on her waffles.

After breakfast we will read some books.  And she will insist on reading a Bubble Guppies book.

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Her mother brought this book a few years ago for us to read together.  It is really more a “look and find”  book than a book to read.  She has long outgrown the book as she now reads chapter books well above her grade.

When she first started outgrowing the book she still liked us to do the “look and find” for fun.  I began to get tired of it and tried to encourage her to read other books more in line with her growing knowledge.

My protests became a game and now she always brings this book out with the other books she can read.  We have this conversation:

Me:  No, I am not reading that book again.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  You are too big for this and I am sick and tired of it.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  I hate this book

She:  Yes we are.

We argue back and forth until we are both laughing too much to even read.

When we downsized recently to move into a smaller house, I took a lot of her books that she had long outgrown to the local library and bought some new books.  But somehow I just could not give that book away.

I can see us when she is graduating from high school still arguing over reading that book.

Me:  You are graduating from high school.  It is time to quit reading this book.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  I have done this for years and it’s time to stop.

She:  Yes we are.

Me:  I’m sick of this book.

She:  Yes we are.

And, of course, we will.

The Future Star of HGTV

My young granddaughter loves to watch HGTV with us.  She especially loves the show “Flip or Flop.”

Recently we took her to see an old factory that was being torn down.  Piles of brick and twisted steel were everywhere and there was still a large portion of the building standing with big gaps in the walls where the bricks had already fallen down.

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Taking a look at the almost collapsed building, she told us they should call the show “Flip or Flop” and they could fix it up.

flip or flop

A few weeks ago she and her family moved to another state.  The last night in their house before moving  we sat on the floor and ate pizza on paper plates.  I commented to her that this was the last time we would have a meal in this house.  Had to try hard not to laugh at her response.

“No Grandma it isn’t.  When I grow up – if you are still alive – I will come back and buy this house and fix it up.”

First, I didn’t think it really needed any “fixing up” but she began explaining how she would take out different walls and make the living area more “open.”  She clearly has been paying attention to the show.

Second, I was a little unsure of her comment “if you are still alive.”  But, I have to face it.  At 70 I might not be alive when she gets all grown up.  My prayer is that I do get the privilege of watching her grow up – and maybe become a star on HGTV.

 

 

 

 

Wanted: A New and Improved Tree House

 

Summer 2017

Last year my husband built our youngest granddaughter a tree house.  He called it “Odd Squad Headquarters” as she was a fan of the show at that time.

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She was so excited and she spent the first day going up and down the stairs so much it made me tired just watching.

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We celebrated the opening of Odd Squad Headquarters with a bubble display.

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This was followed by a puppet show and then we read books.

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We even had visitors on this opening day.

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During the puppet show her Papa kept interrupting her and making silly comments.  Finally she told him he was kicked out for disorderly conduct and being a nuisance.  It was such a fun day – one we will always remember.

We ended the day with pizza before closing the Odd Squad Headquarters for the day.

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She wanted to sleep in the tree house but the old folks overrode that idea.  As we headed into the house for the night she informed us that she was staying for five nights and four days. Don’t think it’s because she loved Papa and Grandma so much as she loved the tree house!

Fast forward to summer 2018

Her Papa had anticipated several years of enjoyment for her in the tree house he built with such love.  However, this week she just moved with her parents to another state.

Although she was sad to leave the tree house, she has a plan!  She told her mother:

“Papa did a good job on the tree house.  But now that he has experience building tree houses, he will build me a new  one.  It will be much better than the old.  The old one was good but this one will be even better.”

Not sure what Papa will say about this but I think he needs to get busy with the blueprint for a new and improved tree house.

 

Saying Goodbye to Lizzie

That time has come!

That time when I realize that I do not want to spend the last years of my life dusting all the “stuff” I have accumulated over the years.

That time when I realize I do not want to spend the last years of my life cleaning floors in rooms I no longer need or use.

That time when I realize I do not want to wash windows in rooms I no longer need or use.

In other words, the time has come to downsize!

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Posting items on local swap sites I have been a little unsure as people purchased my “stuff” and the house has become more empty each day.  But after a few items were gone, my house suddenly felt so much bigger and so much less cluttered.  As each item sells I begin to feel like a weight has been removed from my shoulder.

I have had little trouble parting from the extra furniture, the deep freeze I was no longer using, the extra bedroom furniture I no longer need.

But when it came to looking through my many bookshelves filled with books, I must confess I have had a moment of sorrow.  Over the years I have collected biographies of presidents, first ladies, and people who played a role in our American history such as our founding fathers (and mothers), senators, generals and other famous political persons.  All of them I have read at least once – and most two or three times.  It is like saying goodbye to old, dear friends.

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But one item I am parting with has little or no resale value.  I would probably have a hard time even giving it to anyone except for someone who knows its history and loves it too.

It is my garden frog, Lizzie.

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Named after my grandmother, Martha Elizabeth, this little cement frog stood guard in my Grandmother’s garden for years.  Grandma loved flowers.  When I was a little girl I loved the plants in her yard  with their big beautiful green leaves that looked like their name “elephant ears.”

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Remembering her elephant ears plants perhaps that is why I have loved my hosta garden because of the huge leaves many of these plants have.DSCF0046

Grandma slowly lost her eyesight to glaucoma and had to get rid of her flowers.  That was a sad day for her.

I am not even sure how I came to the be the grandchild that got Grandma’s frog.  But I have treasured it.

One reason is that I inherited her love of flowers and I feel a connection to her through the flower garden and little Lizzie.

But also because Grandma was the only one of my grandparents who I felt loved me.  Grandpa (her husband) had died years before I was born so I never had the chance to know him.  My other grandparents never showed me any sign of affection.  I cannot remember ever getting a hug or hearing them say they loved me.  Going to their house my parents always told me to say hello to them and then go sit down and be very quiet.

But my flower grandma always made me feel not only loved, but special.  Like her I was a redhead and she was proud of that.  As she began to lose her eyesight she would have me stand in the doorway where the sun would shine on my hair so she could see the red hair.  She also had me played the piano for her when I came over.  Just learning how to play, I am not sure how good it really was but Grandma always praised me.

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But in downsizing to a smaller home with a smaller yard, I will no longer have a place for Lizzie.

So what to do with Lizzie?

Perfect answer:  my daughter, Rebekah.  She, like Grandma and like me, loves flowers and gardens.  While I will miss Lizzie, I am content knowing she will be loved and treasured by the fourth generation.

Enjoy your new home, Lizzie!

 

 

When I Get to Heaven I’ll See….

Recently our youngest granddaughter had a sleepover with us.  We took her to a children’s museum.  On the way home we started playing a game we had played with our children when they were little to pass the time on a road trip.

My husband started by saying “I’m going on a picnic and I’m going to take….”  He named something you would take on a picnic that started with the letter A.  I then repeated what he said and added an item starting with the letter B.  He then had to repeat those two items and add a third item starting with the letter C.  We continued going back and forth going down the alphabet.  Our young granddaughter loved it!

A few days later as my husband and I took a drive to a restaurant in another town that we love, he decided to play the game with a twist on it.  (He said this game was good for us old folks as it would help keep our minds sharp.)  Besides, it is fun.

The twist he gave us was “When I get to heaven I’ll see….”

When we finished the game (we had to skip the letters X and Z) I thought back over the things we had mentioned.  Interestingly, the items we mentioned were not mansions or harps or things that people often associate with heaven (although I’m not sure any of that is Biblical).

Rather we named our three grandchildren who died before we had the privilege of holding them in our arms.

  • Jacobi
  • Precious
  • William

We named family members that we cherished and that died way too young.

  • grandparents
  • Keith
  • Lonnie

We also thought of many that we have read about in the Bible that we would love to meet.

  • Barnabas
  • David
  • Moses
  • Naomi
  • Obadiah

For me that is what will be the wonder and joy of heaven.  The first joy, of course, will be to see our savior face to face.  But then just think of it:

  • To finally meet those precious grandchildren and share stories of our life and how we loved them.
  • To share with our loved ones the memories we had and also began a new relationship, one that will never require us to say goodbye.
  • And to meet all the saints who have lived before.
  • Can you imagine sitting with Moses and hearing him tell in his own words how he felt when he saw the burning bush?
  • Or Ruth when she left her family and home and set out with Naomi to Israel?
  • I’ll have a few questions for Paul about exactly what did he mean in some of his writings.
  • Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King Jr, William Tyndale and all the millions of people we have never heard of but who, like us, have stories to tell and experiences to share.

Some people think heaven will be a dull place.  Not me!  Since I am by nature a history bluff I will be busy talking with all those who have lived long before me – to hear in person their stories rather than just reading about them in a book.

  • Do you believe in heaven?
  • Are you looking forward to heaven?
  • What/who do you want to see when you get there?

 

 

 

Whose Child Am I?

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I have always been interested in history – especially American and English history.  My library contains biographies on almost every American president, most of our founding fathers, and other men or women who have played an important part in our country political system.

Growing up I was told my grandmother was Irish.  She had red hair and so did I.  Grandma was so proud of my red hair.  When I was just a little child Grandma was losing her eyesight.  I remember how my parents would have me stand in the doorway at her house where the sun would shine on my hair and she could still see my red hair.  Guess that is why I always loved being a red hair.

Fiery Red-heads Have More Fun!

A few months ago I started doing genealogy research on my family.  It has been an interesting journey.  I found one ancestor whose story gives the impression that she was not a very happy camper.  The picture I found of her certainly appears to back that story.  However, in most of the pictures taken in that time period no one appears to be smiling.

Mary Wampler

My third great-grandmother.

I was so excited when I found what I thought was an ancestor who was the founder of the American Bible Society and president of the Continental Congress from 1782 to 1783, Elias Boudinot.  Then, I discovered he was not a direct ancestor but a brother to my direct ancestor, Elisha Boudinot .  Still, it was a thrilling moment for this history nut to find that Elisha was friends to George Washington, Alexander Hamilton and Benjamin Franklin.

As a little girl my mother spoke so lovingly of her grandpa and it was great to find a picture of him.

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My great grandfather, Calvin Wilson

It was from this line of ancestors that I have my Irish DNA and my red hair.

Receiving a record of my DNA and researching my ancestors has made me really stop and think.  From this wide background of people from Ireland, England, Germany, France and Switzerland is this person called Barbara.  But who am I?  Am I more than just DNA from a multitude of people from different cultures and lands?

Who is my father?  What is my true identity?

I am more than my DNA.

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! 1 John 3:1

For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship.  And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.  — Romans 8:15-16 

Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.  John 1:12

Even if my father and mother abandon me, the LORD will hold me close.  Psalm 27:10

Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation. Psalm 68:5
These verses are more than just words to me.  Throughout my life, God has been my father, my comforter.
I am more than 71% Britain or 11% Irish.  While I enjoy learning about my ancestors (the famous Frenchman, the English prince and the Irish drunk), I am so thankful that I am a child of God!
Praise to the Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ
Our God and our King, to Him we will sing
In His great mercy, He has given us life
Now we can be called the children of God
Great is the Love that the Father has given us
He has delivered us
He has delivered us
Children of God, sing your song and rejoice
For the love that He has given us all
Children of God, by the blood of His Son
We have been redeemed and we can be called
Children of God
Children of God
A mystery is revealed to the universe
The Father above has proven His love
Now we are free from the judgment that we deserve
And so we are called the children of God
Great is the Love that the Father has given us
He has delivered us
He has delivered us………………………………………….Lyrics by Third Day

 

 

What makes a man a Grandpa?

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My daughters “Shadow” and “Giggles” with their beloved Grandpa

I remember his big hands.  They were very large, yet always gentle.

I remember the love and care he gave my daughters after their father was killed in an accident.

I remember the nick names he gave to both of them.  My oldest daughter was “Giggles” and my youngest was “Shadow.”

I remember how he understood my deep grief and sorrow after my husband’s death in a way no one else in the family did because he had also lost his first wife in death.

I remember how he just stood by my side in silence with his big hand on my shoulder in the days following my husband’s death while others in the family would be sharing their opinion on why God had allowed Lonnie to be taken from me and my little daughters.   Or, how he would give me a hug at family gatherings when my heart ached for the empty spot at the table where my husband would have sat and no one else in the family even mentioned his name.  It seemed at times as if they had never seen him as a part of our family.  But I knew that Grandpa Gerling missed him along with me and my girls.  He never had to say a word.  His hand on my shoulder, his hug, his whisper to me “It will get better in time” said it all.

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My mother and step-father — Grandpa Gerling

He was not biologically a grandfather to my girls but if love counts for anything, he was their grandfather.  My husband’s family seemed too lost in their own grief after his death to offer any love or comfort to my daughters.  My own father had deserted me and my mother when I was 13 and although he came back into my life later he was always very negative when we were around him and critical of me.  My hair was too short.  My slacks were too tight.  So the only love they were shown by a grandfather was my step-dad, Grandpa Gerling.

He has been gone now for many years, but I still miss him.  I often think how much he would have enjoyed seeing my daughters’ children, how much he would have showered them with love.

This time of year I always think of him.  In the fall he would always fix us his goulash.  My girls and I now make that dish – and remember his kindness and love to us.

He was not their “real’ grandfather.  They shared no DNA.  But he was the only “real” grandfather they knew.  Because what makes a man a grandfather is more than sharing his DNA, it is sharing his love.

So as fall comes and I think about the trips at this time of year to Mom and Cliff’s house for goulash, I thank God for giving my daughters a “real” grandpa.