A Week With the Kids

My favorite time of year is the summer when the kids visit. For the last several years, the kids visited us in Pittsburgh. Our town had an arcade, outdoor games like go-karts and mini golf and a ball pit (a climbing zone in a netted cage with slides and foam balls you could play with). The ball pit gave the kids a day of fun for $5.00. It was a bargain for parents (looking for an outlet) and grandparents (looking for some peace and quiet.) When Warren heard we had moved from Pittsburgh to Georgia he cried, "I don't want to go to Georgia. I want to go to the Ball Pit!"

The challenge was on. Make Georgia as inviting as the Ball Pit.

We tried. How do you think we did?

Fields of the Woods, Bible theme park, with the largest Ten Commandments in the world, was founded in 1940 and is free to the public. The commandments are spelled out in 5' high letters on a huge hillside.

356 steps to the top! Here we go....

The view was awesome!

As we looked down on the parking lot, we could see more steps on the other side, so of course we did that too. Another 200+ steps! Our calves were talking the next day! It was an interesting place and the view was gorgeous.

View from the top of Brasstown Bald, the highest point in Georgia.

Lake Chatuge

Paberry points out places to the boys.

A trail ride was a new experience for all the kids. Although they were a little hesitant at first, even the 3-year old didn't want to get off when it was over.

The highlight of the trip was the day we rented a pontoon boat and went tubing. First the kids had a chance to drive the boat.Then Larry did his best to give everyone a wild ride on the tube. Everyone loved it. And for the next 3 days, Zachary's favorite word was BOAT!

Everyone had two turns. When it was Samantha's turn to go again she decided she wanted to go with me, which was a surprise because I hadn't gone yet. Laughing was unavoidable. 

Samantha kept saying, "How dare you splash us, Paberry!"

I told Larry to give us a gentle ride. Next time I'll make sure we define the term!

 Jen and Jan got the final ride of the day.

Larry really wanted to flip the girls, but it didn't work. This tube was incredibly stable. 

As busy as we were there was always time for naps and quiet time in the afternoon. The kids made full use of the wrap around porch, the hammock, the rocking horse, and the easel that was set up on the porch.

Most of all, it was just a great time for us all to be together.

And come to think of it, I never heard any child say:

"I wish we could go to the Ball Pit."

Mission Accomplished!

The Party's Over...

"Turn out the lights, the party's over. They say that all good things must end." (Willie Nelson song)

The nest is empty, and very quiet. But, OH, What a blast we had!

My next post will include photos, but I haven't had a chance to go through them so instead, this post will just touch on some things I learned while hanging with the kids for the last 10 days.

• This little house holds 9 people pretty well. 
• We need a bigger table.
• The septic tank (rated for a 2 bedroom house) holds a lot more than I thought it would.
• My daughter takes great pictures.
• The same daughter takes TOO MANY pictures! (That's why I haven't had a chance to go through them to pick out a few really good ones to post.)
• A wrap-around porch apparently exists to be a race track for 4 little ones.
• Warren never stops. (This is not new news. It's just reconfirmed.)
• Samantha never stops giggling. (also reconfirmed.)
• We needed a lap-counter to track the number of laps Nicholas and Warren ran. 
• Zachary, the 2-year old, keeps up pretty well.
• There are 346 steps to climb at the 10 Commandments at Fields of the Woods. We climbed them all and then climbed another 300 to see more stuff.
• Zachary is a great step climber. He climbed all but 75 of the ones at the Fields. He climbed our steps to the loft 14 times a day.
• Bike helmets are a good thing. 
• My grandkids are tough. Not much slowed them down. Not their first trail ride on a big horse. Not a bike crash. Not a super fast ride on a tube with Paberry at the helm of the motorboat.
• Paberry does NOT know the meaning of  a 'gentle ride' when his wife requests that for her first ride on a tube behind the boat.
• You can not NOT laugh when you are riding on a tube. You just can't. Trust us.
• Laughing hysterically is the best stress reliever around. It is head clearing, mind clearing, heart and lung clearing, blood clearing. It's better than a good gin and tonic and head massage combined. I know. I had 9 people at my house for a week and a half, and after that ride, all was calm.
• Zachary loves boats. After the pontoon boat, for the next 3 days his main word was "BOAT!" 
• There is no time to read when the gang is here.
• The Hammock can take a beating. Just ask 4 kids. 

We had a wonderful time with the kids. They got to swim, boat, horseback ride and sight see. We went to Helen and played mini-golf and toured the town.

I think they'll be back.

I can't wait.

Meanwhile, I'm heading to the hammock with a book.

View from a Full House

Forget the empty nest. This nest is full to overflowing. Thank goodness the weather is good and we can eat outside most of the time.

Janice and Mike arrived last Tuesday night, and Jen arrived Thursday night. It is a full 2 day drive for Jan and Mike, but they decided to take a little longer this time. After a 3 day trip to get here, (and stop at Legoland and a few bouncy houses to provide a break for the kids) Jan and her family were ready to crash and regroup on Wednesday. By Thursday, they were ready to venture out so we headed for the lake and a great time swimming.

Jen, on the other hand, decided to make the 10 hour trip driving by herself with two little ones in tow, in one day. Her husband stayed home and worked this week. She too, was ready to crash and regroup on Friday.

When we bought our cabin, we made sure that although it was smaller, there was still room for both families to visit. 3 bedrooms, 3 baths, 3 floors. As far as sleeping is concerned, there is room for all.

Get all nine of us playing, eating, and cooking in one room and it gets a mite chaotic! All through the day I think of things to blog about. After the last kiddo is tucked into bed, we sit, look at each other, and let out a collective sigh. And the brain goes dead. What was I thinking? Where are those thoughts? I have no idea. They have flown the coop.

Day 1 with everyone here and I noticed two things. 1) Larry announced he was taking trash to the dump (yes, we are THAT rural!), eating breakfast out, and 'doing some other errrands'. He also managed to squeeze in lunch out. 2) Mike had managed to schedule a Tee Time for the day. Hmmm, it seemed the men had flown the coop, too!

All in all it worked out well. The kids and moms kind of settled in and developed a pattern of play and quiet time. Kind of is the key phrase here. Sometime later that day, Jen remarked that it's not much of a vacation when you are one parent with 2 kids, especially when one is a two-year old.

Saturday, though, Mike and I gave the girls a morning out. (To be fair, Mike had no choice. I volunteered him for it.) We have an awesome Farmers Market that features everything from Alpaca wool and local jewelry and pottery to organic vegetables, flowers, and other local farm produce. There is even a booth with local grown and packaged meat. So while the girls had Sister Time, we stayed home and managed the four kids. Mike took the older ones out to play horseshoes (plastic, not iron), and I built blocks and painted with the littlest one. By the time they got back the two youngest had eaten lunch and were down for naps. I think we did ok!

It's a few days later and the kids are going strong. The adults...not so much. Between hiding in our iphones, swinging in the hammock, or rocking on the porch, we each have our escape mode. The kids are running circles around us. Literally. Let's face it. Why would Granberry and Paberry have a wrap around porch if it wasn't to run circles?

Nothing slows them down. Trust me. We've tried.

As tired as we are at the end of the day, this is one of my favorite times. It's our own family reunion, where the sisters reconnect, the cousins reconnect, and the family reunites. And each night as we gather around the table it warms my heart to the core to listen to four children's voices chiming in loud and clear:

"God is great, God is good, And we thank Him for our food. Amen"

Yes He is. Yes we do.

AMEN

Will We Be Ready When the Kids Arrive?

Two steps forward, and one step back. That about summarizes each day. Last week I got all the odds and ends off the kitchen island. It felt great to finally have that space exactly as I wanted it. Then, we got a couch, and rearranged the living room. Odds and ends that had been placed on a table that was no longer in the living room, suddenly found themselves on the kitchen island. And so it goes. Each day, I focus on one room and get stuff just the way I want it. But another room is holding the leftovers. When I work on that room, where do the odds and ends go? On the island. It seems like a never ending process.

By Noon Each Day

We are hitting the final stretch.

Truthfully, I can't complain about how it is going. We are making progress. In fact, I think we are almost there! But then I look at the kitchen island and I think, "two steps forward and one step back!"

In the beginning, unpacking is rather daunting, but moves fairly smoothly. 200+ boxes are stacked throughout the house, waiting, intimidating me, challenging me to pick one! I start in the kitchen. Most of the stuff I unpack finds a home. A few things are relegated to "the pile". "The Pile" holds stuff I'm not sure of. Will it find a home, or will it be set aside for a yard sale?

Two weeks later, my reality is different. "The Pile" would like to have a room all to itself. It is no longer a few boxes, but many boxes. Half of it is definite yard sale stuff. The other half is hoping I will find a home for it. An old friend called my stuff "chotzkes". Larry calls it.... no, we won't go there. But even I admit most of my stuff is trinkets connected with memories.

I am not in this alone, though! Oh no. Larry has his share of stuff. He just has an oversized two-car garage to pack it into, while I have a loft the size of a postage stamp with a small closet.

Then there is OUR closet. That's a whole other story. We've gone from two walk-in closets to one. It's a bit bigger than the ones we each had, but it's not as big as our two. And it is full. One thing we have in common is our collection of shirts. We both collect shirts.

Larry's collection is shirts he can wear to work. He has enough starched shirts hanging in clear, plastic laundry bags, to last him a month. I'm not exaggerating. It was not unusual for him to have two weeks worth of shirts at the cleaners and another two weeks worth packed in a suitcase as he traveled. And his closet was never empty!

On the other hand, I was an elementary school teacher. My collection is T-shirts. I have shirts from all 4 schools I worked at, in several colors, and many with my name on them. Then there are all the 'event' shirts I would want for school activities: Every season, holiday, Patriotic, even theme shirts for social studies units like Native Americans. Don't forget the shirts I need for the Corvette Club, or Nascar Race. And of course my Buccaneer and Steeler shirts. I can't possibly give up my Mike Alstott or Ronde Barber jersey!

Yes, we are both guilty.

And then there are the photos.

Ah yes. The photos. First of all, my dad was an amateur photographer who developed all of his own pictures. While I never learned how to do that from him, I did learn to take a lot of pictures. When he passed on, my sisters and I divided up all of his photo albums, which of course I still have, along with all of my own photos.

Most of all, I learned to love photographs in my house. There are boxes of framed photographs all waiting for a new place to perch. It's not going to happen. And so the hard process begins.

Organizing specialists say the first task is to separate trash from treasure. Granted, in these boxes of photos from over 70 years ago, there is plenty of trash. But there are a lot of treasures in there too. Do I hear Snapfish calling?

Some organizers recommend taking a picture of the object that holds the memory and then giving the object away. As I look at the boxes and bins of pictures I have stacked against the wall, that sounds like it's own type of oxymoron. And I think I'd be a moron to do it!

All of this is just a way of saying that when my kids show up this week (YIKES!) they will find one side of our wrap around porch lined with boxes of stuff for them to grab before it goes the way of all things once desired but no longer needed. And that will be one giant step forward for this person who believes that while history lives in the object, not just in the photo of the memory, sometimes history has to take its natural place in the world. That is, it is history! So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye!

And the never ending process? I think we ended it! We are UNPACKED!!! In just 23 days!

(Hmm, I wonder if that is a record? It is for me. If Guinness had been here they could have either documented it or at least handed me a cold Guinness as a reward. I think we'll go get a couple and toast ourselves! We did it!)

A Slow Moving Process

It's no secret life has been a bit crazy lately. So much is going on I haven't had time to think. We've moved. That part is over! Now we are unpacking. And unpacking. And unpacking.... oh, did I mention? We are unpacking. Does it ever end??

Tonight, I sit here in my new house. It's a cabin, really. Very rustic. About 1/2 the size of the home we moved from. I'm trying to collect my thoughts. I've heard it said that Geniuses work well under chaotic conditions. They have so much going on in their heads that to work in an organized environment is very hard for them. Once again, I have proof that I am not a genius! I can't think when my environment is too far out of sync.

During the move, and over the last week lots of comparisons, thoughts, reminiscences have crossed my mind, but I was unable to stop what I was doing to write a post. It turns out, when there is a lot to be done, writing takes a back seat. At night, I collapse and look at my computer like a zombie. Even if I can think, I'm afraid to start writing for fear I will be up for the next 2 hours when I really need to go to bed.

So hear is the update. The good news is that most of the boxes have been unpacked. The better news is that my kitchen, which is about 1/3 the size of my last one, has been set up and is working very well! On the other hand, the yard sale pile is growing. We knew we had more to get rid of, but it was hard to do until we actually got here.

I've stated before, that I hate to move. I have to admit, I'm not sure exactly why I hate it. Truthfully, moving is an adventure. There are new people to meet, new places to see, an opportunity to reboot my life, or join new groups and participate in new activities. On the other hand, moving means saying goodbye to all those things I came to enjoy about my current home. And it is a total disruption to my life. The most obvious is moving away from friends and a home I love. Listing a house and having to keep it in pristine condition while working or raising kids isn't fun. Then there is the packing. That is a huge job, but over the years, we have had movers do the lion share of the packing for us. At the other end of moving is the unpacking. Right now, it is the part I hate most.

Unpacking is a mix of adventure, discovery, frustration and wonder....that moment when you just say "Huh?"

There is the satisfaction of unpacking a box and finding places for everything. There is the frustration of not being able to find something I know must be here, but which box? Then there is that AHA moment when it is finally found. This move it was the DVD player and all the remotes. We discovered them nicely tucked into the bedding from the master bedroom. We would have found it sooner, if we were using that room. Instead it was the VERY LAST box unpacked.

There is the wonder at unpacking something I can't imagine ever having kept, like an empty jar.

So far my favorite find is a tall, narrow 1 quart empty jar. I can see keeping a wide mouthed jar, but I have no idea why I ever held onto this jar!

Best of all, there is the surprise at unpacking something I forgot I had, like an old momento that had been tucked away. Unwrapping that suddenly brings back warm memories of an event long forgotten. Like this little photo album my dad kept of all of us as children, as well as his grandchildren.

That's me at ages 5 and 4

The best part of this move is that after nine times, Larry is by my side, working just as hard as I am. That is a first. Every other time we have moved, he would go to work and I would unpack the boxes, one at a time, one day at a time. This time it is a team effort. And I think we are winning.

One day at a time...one box at a time.

43 Years

Today is our 43rd anniversary. You'd think by now we could ace the Newlywed Game or some other game show about how well do you know your spouse.

Maybe. Maybe not.

For instance, this morning, at breakfast, I served orange juice in two pretty little glasses engraved "20th Anniversary". I told him the girls had given us those glasses 23 years ago. "Hmmm, I'd have failed that question on a game show," he said. That's ok. They have been mostly on display for the last 23 years. This morning I chose to use them.

However, there have been times when we have been so in sync it is positively scary.

There was the Christmas we gave each other the same gift. We bought each other bath towels with ducks on them. True...we had spent the whole trip south to Florida from our vacation in Connecticut stopping at outlet malls looking for duck towels to go in our newly redecorated bathroom featuring mallard ducks. We hadn't found any then. Yet, 5 months later, there were several towels in wrapped boxes under the tree.

There was the Christmas we bought each other Christmas cards that looked different on the outside, but had the exact same message in it!

Sometimes it can be scary.

And then there was yesterday. We are in the middle of this move. We've been overwhelmed by the unpacking. There are address changes to make, insurance to set up, auto tags to apply for. Plenty to do, and little time to get it all done. (The kids are popping in for a visit with the grand kids in a little over a week from now.) Lots to get us sidetracked. So I tentatively asked him the other night, "We aren't exchanging gifts are we?" He glanced over. "Uh-uh" he says with conviction. OK. Phew... because I hadn't had a chance to even think what to get him!

Of course I didn't want to be completely unprepared so yesterday, I ran out to Walmart to pick up a prescription AND to get him an Anniversary card. I came home and tried to sign it behind his back before we went out for the day; Movie, sofa shopping and dinner at my favorite restaurant. I planned to present the card at dinner. It was the perfect card... It started out "Today is the day to drop everything, ignore the demands, put the world on hold..." Yes it was, and we were doing just that!

He saw what I was doing and looked sheepishly at me. "Ummm, I didn't get you a card."

"You WHAT? You didn't GET me a card????" Incredulous, yes. (But honestly, not upset.) However, I had to rub it in. I left the card at home, and reminded him he still had a day to get me one. He wasn't off the hook yet!

After we bought the sofa, later that afternoon, we had some time to kill before dinner and I saw him scoping out the cards in a gift shop.

This morning we exchanged our cards at the breakfast table. Our day to 'drop everything' was past, but the rest of the card still said what I felt. I opened his card. There was a hot fudge sundae on the front with lots of whipped cream and two cherries. (My kind of dessert!)

"Building a life with you is the sweetest treat of all"....it said. "That says it all" he added.

And that's what anniversaries are all about. Celebrating the present, the past, the moment, the memories. Appreciating the moments when you are in complete sync, and laughing about the moments when you are in two different orbits.

And this year... just being glad to make it to the end of the day still smiling, and looking forward to a good night's sleep. And ready to do it again, tomorrow!

Happy Anniversary, Honey! Here's to Many, Many More!!

Feeling Moody, Not Thankful

In January, when I chose to keep as my daily mantra, the Bible verse from 1Thessalonians, 5:18, I knew there would be times this year when it would be hard to live up to. "In all things give thanks" instructs Paul. Paul knew what he was saying. He knew there would be days when you just wouldn't want to, wouldn't feel it, would hardly be up to it. But he knew it was the way to keep in touch with God and the way to keep things in perspective.

Yesterday, as Larry and I climbed into the car to do an afternoon of running around, I wasn't feeling the joy. The sky was gray, the air chilly, and I was tired of everything. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be alone. I wanted this move to be OVER! I've said it before, and I will repeat myself here. I hate moving. When it is all over I will be fine, but right now my home is in Pittsburgh. That's where my stuff is. That's where my friends are. That's where my life is, or at least, has been. I hate the transition. I want the unpacking to be done. I want to know where all my stuff will go. I want to be finished weeding out the stuff we will discover we don't really need. I want it to be six months from now, when I walk in my house and feel completely settled. I don't want to be living out of a suitcase, in a house that has one table, one bed and 2 chairs.

In all things give thanks....?

Let's see... since April 4, I have been a girl without a home, (sort of). I spent 5 weeks and 1 day (Larry was counting) taking care of Zachary, sleeping on a mattress on Jen's living room floor, grabbing a shower while they ate breakfast and before they left for work, and living out of a suitcase that was on their bedroom floor. Each morning we dragged my mattress back into their bedroom and propped it against the wall, and brought it out each night. I have to say, right here, it worked GREAT. We had no problems. In spite of the lack of alone time or privacy for all involved, there were no issues. And I loved spending time with Zachary and seeing Nicholas each day.

Then I spent 2 and 1/2 days with my sister. I had my own bed there! Luxury! It was a short visit, but she will be heading north about the same time we move south, so we grabbed the time we could.

Now I'm back at our cabin in Georgia. But my stuff is in the house in Pittsburgh. Home is where the heart is? Sounds nice but truthfully, for me, right now, home is where my stuff is. And that is Pittsburgh. It's been 6 weeks since things have felt normal.

Yesterday, as we did our errands, that (stupid) verse ran through my mind. Hmmph. I wasn't feeling it. I tried to come up with an attitude adjustment. As the day wore on the errands took over and I allowed myself to settle into the moment. The moodiness diminished, but I can't say I ever got that 'thankful' feeling.

Today, the sun came out, and I took the car by myself, to do MY errands, at my speed. I wanted to scope out plants that grow in the Georgia mountains and get an idea for what I might want to plant here once we finally stay here long enough to plant and water them. I stopped for a caramel macchiato and a donut and I sat alone in the sun and soaked up its energy. I looked at flowers and absorbed the energy from their simple beauty. I picked up groceries and planned dinner. Whoa! That's the first dinner I've planned and cooked since early April! In short, I started to feel normal. And the tension slowly melted away. By the time I came home I felt like a different person.

Was I giving thanks? Not really. But I realized sometimes it's not an act of joy, but more an attitude of acceptance for whatever was bugging me.

In The Hiding Place, Betsie Ten Boom told her sister, Corrie, they had to give thanks for the fleas in their barracks in the concentration camp. It was a hard lesson, and I don't believe for a minute, they ever felt joy at the fleas. But they did accept them. Later they discovered the real blessing in those fleas. But even if they never had, they still carried an attitude of thankfulness.

The good news for me is that this transition period is just that. Someday, it will all be over and I will feel connected with my life again. Until then, sometimes it's really not about the joy. It's just learning not to fight what can't be fought.

And that, I can do.