Monday, April 6, 1998 - Palm Sunday

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Last Sunday when we were going for a ride in the country about twenty miles northeast of Columbus, we found a charming little country church---right smack dab in the middle of several cow lots. Directly across the road, sandwiched between two cow lots, was the church’s cemetery. Ze aroma, she was baaaad.

Teddy, explaining matters to the littles, said that the cemetery was handy like that, so that when people keeled over from the aroma of the countryside, they could just haul them right out the front door and across the lane and inter them, without undue fuss.

Caleb asked seriously, “How do you ‘inter’ somebody?” and Larry hastily informed him, before somebody else took the opportunity, “By opening the gate and yelling, ‘ENTER!’”

Larry now has the big crewcab all painted--even the windshield. (Well, it needed to be replaced, anyway.) The bottom of pickup is painted teal, with a silver stripe. The teal is so dark, it hardly shows up until it is out in the sun, when the metallic chips in it sparkle and shine. Carpeting is in, seats are in, new tool box is on, and now the new windshield is in. It’s beginning to look spectacular, it is! So the anticipation builds.

Well, I thought I was done with the Easter sewing, having finished hemming several pairs of pants and altering a few other things, until someone brought us a beautiful peach satin dress that fits Dorcas exactly perfectly. It has a loooooong, scalloped ‘V’ in the back, entirely inappropriate for Easter (or any other day); so we had to go all the way to Grand Island to get some white satin and some beautiful peach lace with a scalloped edge to make an insert. Now this is one of the few things I don’t especially enjoy doing; it’s so difficult to get the new piece in just so, with no objectionable puckers or plications, wrinkles or crinkles. I also got a beautiful applique for the front, about 18”x12”. And there’s where all my frugality went right down the drain--it cost $24.99! But get this: if I had’ve gotten the one with pearls and sequins already sewn on, it would’ve cost $36.99. Mercy! I’ll sew them on myself, thank you.

Last Christmas, Keith gave Larry a set of four chrome handles for his other crewcab, which were to be affixed to the frame just beside the doors. But Larry was already having chimerical reveries of cyclopean crewcabs of Herculean capability, so he saved them. Last week he bought a couple more, so every door will have a handle beside it with which to better haul ourselves in like Flynn. He put a visor over the windshield, and five little lights along the front edge of the top of the cab.

Hannah finished her little cousin’s vest, and is nearly done with her own. She’s had a lot of homework, so it’s taken longer than she expected. But she should be able to complete the vest with no trouble. She made the neatest little crocheted buttons, shaped like elongated balls, for the vests.

And guess what I spent a couple of days doing? Cutting out our outfits for the Fourth of July. That’s six dresses and five shirts. Plus fleece robes for Joseph and Caleb. The fleece is black, with Dalmatians decked out in red collars. I had just enough red fleece left over from the little girls’ coats to make Joseph and Caleb’s collars, cuffs, and belts.

We got the kids some kites--an eagle, a seagull, and a falcon. Wednesday after school, they took them to a big open field near Larry’s shop, and attempted to put them in flight. About the time Joseph got his up high, a big gust of wind jerked the spool of twine from his hands, sending the kite into a pitching, plummeting dive straight into the trees that bordered the field.

“Now, I ask you,” demanded Joseph of Keith, “Do I really look that much like Charlie Brown?!” He shook his head in disgust and turned to address the tree. “Was that necessary, to go and eat my kite like that?”

Hester and Lydia looked on, giggling. Caleb, meanwhile, was having a kitin’ good time, holding a short string on his kite and running madly to and fro, kite flapping directly over his head.

Just before Keith brought them all home again, Larry gave the littles rides on the four-wheeler, eliciting gales of mirth as he sped over small hills and down through the ditches.

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There are pelicans on Lake North. I had on a 1200mm lens, making a cloudy afternoon look even darker, too dark, really, for a very good picture. In one photo, there is a little speck right off the tail of one pelican; it’s a shoveler, which gives you an idea of the size of these big water birds.

The Charbonneaus brought their Suburban back--one of the Danes had made a gourmet meal of one of the door panels…again. Just last year, Larry replaced one for them--and the steering wheel, too--because one of those big dogs discovered he had a craving for a little somethin’ while in the Suburban. I think the Charbonneaus had better invest in a large economy-sized pet carrier; what do you think? Or put the beasts in their horse trailer, maybe.

Here is a poem I wrote, taken from Psalms 4 and 5, for a friend's autograph album:

Thou hast put gladness

Down deep in my heart,

For I trust in a God

That shall never depart.

The light of Thy countenance

Hath shined upon me;

I will look up,

For I dwell safely in Thee.

In the morning, O Lord,

My voice shalt Thou hear;

In Thy temple I worship,

Ever glad Thou art near.

Lead me in righteousness;

Make my way straight;

For narrow the pathway

To that heavenly gate.

Let all those that trust Thee

Shout loudly for joy;

Sweet songs of the faithful

My lips shall employ!

Thursday evening, Helen sent over a big box of little girls’ patterns via her son Joe. He knocked on the door. Dorcas opened it. There stood Joe and another friend, Richard, who, she assumed, had come with Joe. She took the box of patterns from Joe, thanked him nicely, and shut the door. Going back into the kitchen to finish making her banana bread, she was once again interrupted by a knock on the door. She went back and opened it. There stood Richard, grinning, because Dorcas had shut the door right in his face! He’d come on a separate mission entirely from Joe--he wanted the keys to the church and school, as he was on cleaning duty.

Dorcas was embarrassed. “Oh! I must’ve nearly slammed the door on your nose! Sorry!”

Keith has been working near Omaha all week, in Blair and Elkhorn. That’s about 90 miles away, but the ride seems short, since he’s traveling with enjoyable company. One evening he was later than usual, because the lug nuts on a wheel on one of their trailers broke.

Friday after school Hester went off to the Koch farm to play with Emily, who’s in her class, while Lydia went off with her classmate Andrea. Hester took her cookie cutters and cookbook, and she and Emily baked butter cookies. The Kochs sent home a tray of them for all of us. And guess what Lydia came home with? A bag of chocolate chip cookies which she and Andrea had helped make!

Friday was entirely taken up with bookwork. Our tax man is done preparing our taxes; we need to pick them up today. We’ve got less than a week and a half before they’re due. I don’t know how much we owe, but if it’s very much, I think we’ll have to rob a bank or defect to Cuba or something.

Saturday we went to the Goodwill and the Salvation Army. At the Salvation Army, they were having a 50-cent sale on all shirts and blouses. We filled our cart right up to the top, we did. We also got several dresses and skirts, most of them for Dorcas, who has grown out of all her clothes this spring. She’s taller than Hannah and me, and bigger, too, in spite of looking so slim. So she can no longer snitch clothes out of either of our closets! I found a whole pile of nearly-new jeans--Wranglers and Rustlers and Levis--for Joseph at only $1.50/pr. I got a man’s sweater--store tags still attached --with strips of leather decoration…free.

Last night the Jr. Choir sang Hosanna On This Day, and for once they didn’t chicken out and get quieter than the volume at which they practice. Evidently, the lecture I gave them took: I reminded them of the children who waved palm branches and sang when Jesus entered Jerusalem, riding on the donkey. Those children sang with all their might and main, you can be sure! And when the disciples asked Jesus to tell them to be still, Jesus said, “I tell you, the rocks would cry out, if they held their peace!”

I told the children that the way they sometimes peter out was going to make the rocks cry out, should they do such a thing on Palm Sunday! “Now, march right up there on that platform, open your mouths, and sing! Sing with all your heart! Think about the words you’re singing…Don’t ever be bored with these songs, no matter how many times you’ve practiced it. Remember that this is the Wonderful Old Story, so old, yet ever so new!”

And guess what. They did sing with all their hearts, and they received an extraordinary amount of compliments for their efforts, too.

Now I’d better get that dress fixed for Dorcas…

Sunday, March 29, 1998 - Keith's New Job and Mama's New Teeth

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This week Keith started working full-time for my nephew, David Walker, who owns Walker Construction. His other boss, who owns Platte Valley Precast, was running low on work, since it is somewhat seasonal. The Walkers make poured basements--that is, they set up forms in the hole dug for the basement, then pour in the cement. Sometimes they make poured walls, and they hire a friend to pump the cement up into the forms with his pump truck. That’s how the walls for the school were made. Annette’s father laid the brick on the outside. He’s quite skilled, and does many artistic, original creations in his work.

David has gotten himself quite a reputation around these parts for his fast, accurate work; and they get jobs within a 150-mile radius. His younger brother, Robert, is his first assistant. Last week, in addition to some jobs in the Country Club Hills area north of Columbus, they also had a job in Fremont, about 45 miles east.

Keith was riding with David and some of his coworkers when David's mother-in-law called him on his cell phone to tell him his brother-in-law and wife had just had a new baby, so he would not be coming to work that morning.

“Where are you?” Sarah asked her son-in-law.

David glanced down, tipping his head and pursing his lips consideringly. “Oh, about ten inches from the steering wheel,” he replied.

Tuesday, my mother had all her top teeth removed and two on the bottom. The top plate was put in immediately. She’s doing remarkably well, although she can’t really chew yet, so we run everything through the blender for her. My sister stayed with her the first night, then Hannah, and then Dorcas for the next two nights. Last night Mama insisted nobody needed to stay with her.

“I’m just fine!” she declared.

Tuesday night she had some trouble with her mouth bleeding, but she, with my sister’s help, was able to get it stopped. She’s been quite weak, but yesterday she was trotting around all over the house, thinking she needed to fix Dorcas some breakfast--in spite of the fact that Dorcas was supposed to be taking care of Grandma--trying to clean the house, and such like.

I’ve finished Lydia’s dress, another one for Victoria in coordinating pink/green/ yellow calicos, done the alterations on several suits and dresses, and decorated a couple of hats for Hester and Lydia. I sewed two large re-embroidered appliques on Dorcas’ pink silk suit, then spent one whole day sewing pearls and sequins on them. I tried on a dress I’d bought from J.C.Penney’s last fall, which I’d been saving for Easter. Good grief!--I look like a short, pudgy aardvark in it. I let Dorcas try it on. She came marching out to show me, looking not quite as bad as I had, but not too swell, either. She reached up, got a good grip on the shoulders, and lifted them--and the entire dress, along with them--right up past her earlobes.

Holding it at just about nose level, which put the waist in approximately the right place, she enthused, “It just fits!” and then, after a short pause, “Ya got some really taaaaall shoulder pads?” haha

We trotted that dress right over to my tall niece, posthaste.

We got shoes for Dorcas and Joseph, and now only need a shirt for Larry, a belt for Hester, and socks for Caleb. Only two more weeks!

Remember Victoria had a high temperature a week and a half ago? Well, Monday she broke out with some type of a rash; it looked like one of the minor measles, maybe roseola or something. Tuesday it was fading, and by Wednesday, no sign of it could be seen. Usually by the time a child breaks out, they’re feeling better, and that seemed to be the case with Victoria.

Robins, doves, and house finches are back, singing like everything; and juncos and chickadees and white-crowned sparrows are passing through. Every night, we hear flocks of geese flying over.

Wednesday, Larry went to Omaha to put a starter on a Suburban for some customers of ours, the Charbonneaus. This was the Suburban into which he put the Cummins diesel; we took the vehicle to the people last summer one day. The woman’s father is the owner and builder of Omaha’s two largest malls, and they live in a big mansion on some wooded hills of far western Omaha. They show horses all over the country and in Canada, too. They also raise appaloosa Great Danes. These dogs are huge, I tell you. I mean, they’re humungous. Luckily, the breed is fairly gentle, and they usually like people.

When Larry arrived, the biggest Dane, one which they give free rein all around their large estate, greeted him nicely. The man, Bill, invited Larry into the garage. As soon as Larry set foot inside, the Dane took exception and bit him on the ankle! Luckily, he had on boots. (That is, Larry had on boots; not the Dane.)

“Hey!” yelled Larry, and the dog let go.

Bill laughed a bit sheepishly. “He’s never done that before!” he said.

Later, Larry went to Hansen’s Truck and Salvage Yard for parts for their Suburban and ours. He found a neat little switchboard for ours, which he later hooked up to some of the multitudes of wires so that some more of that indirect lighting in the ceiling works. It looks pretty neat! We only need to find a few more switches, now, some of which will turn on the heat in the passenger’s seat. Larry calls it my ‘electric chair’.

In the meanwhile, Bill was cleaning the dogs’ cages. He accidentally let the big ankle-sampler into another big male dog’s cage--and a raging dogfight ensued. He got them apart eventually by using the garden hose.

Directly Larry returned. He climbed out of his pickup. Around the corner loped Ankle Chomper, friendly as ever---all covered with cuts, and bleeding. The Charbonneaus were calling the vet, trying to find one that would make a house visit. They couldn’t. So, while Larry worked on their Suburban, he let them borrow his pickup to take the dog to the vet to get all stitched back together again.

Thursday it was 74°, so we got the strollers out of the garage, and Hannah and I took Caleb and Victoria for a walk.

One night Hannah was doing her homework. Caleb sat beside her, looking at his and Lydia’s magazine, Your Big Backyard. It’s all full of animal pictures and stories, and it’s put out by National Wildlife Corporation. We get Ranger Rick for Joseph and Hester. Caleb kept showing Hannah pictures.

“Hannah! Look at this ugly bug!” or “Hannah! Read this to me!” or “Hannah! What kind of animal is this?!”

Hannah, busy writing, muttered, “I’m . . . doing . . . my . . .”---

Caleb, looking earnestly up into her face with wide blue-gray eyes, finished the sentence for her: “Homework!” and, without a pause, “Hannah! Look at this!”

Hannah, of course, burst out laughing, and Caleb looked up quickly to see what was so funny.

One time about a year ago, Caleb was brushing Hannah’s hair. It was full of static electricity.

“Hannah!” exclaimed Caleb, “Your hair is swizzy!”

This reminded us of the time Lydia, age two, was brushing Hannah’s hair. “Goodness! your hair is Frisbee!” said she.

Yesterday Caleb was looking out the front door, watching all the cars full of teenagers arriving at our neighbor’s house.

Finally he asked, “How come the people who don’t go to our church never wash their cars?”

Now that’s what you call ‘biased’!

Last night I made three deep-dish apple crumb pies. There is only one left. My oven sure is handy, allowing me to bake all three at once. And they all brown evenly, too.

The More-Door Ford is now residing in the paint booth, eagerly awaiting its first coat of paint--hopefully tomorrow..... always depending on how many other customers Larry has, of course.

And that’s this week’s news.

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P.S.: My mother had the stitches taken out of her mouth this morning, and everything is fine. She says it hardly hurts.

P.S.S.: The crewcab now has its dark teal stripes! And the silver stripe is soon to follow.

Sunday, March 22, 1998 - Garden of the Gods, and Home Again

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When we arrived home, we had oodles and caboodles of messages on our answering machine. Three were from a neighbor, normally a nice man with whom we’ve been friends for over 25 years. But in the last few years, he’s begun drinking more and more, and he’s practically an alcoholic now. Not quite a month ago, he bought a pickup from us. Just before we left for New Mexico last week, we sent the title over to his house with one of the children, inadvertently leaving a signature off of one line. Well, he thought that the last day he could get his pickup licensed without paying an extra $25 was Monday, the 16^th; and, when he couldn’t get us on the phone, he became more and more agitated. His last message was downright nasty--and somewhat slurred, I might add. But the following morning when he talked to my mother, he must’ve been in his right mind again, because he was just as nice as ever.

As it turned out, there was no need for him to get all hot and bothered; he had until Friday to get his truck licensed. So everything turned out all right, and we’re still on good terms with our neighbors. A few months ago, Hannah heard the man’s wife telling one of her friends, “As he gets more alcoholic, his mother treats me worse.”

Some people are suffering things in their lives of which we would never guess, aren’t they? We redoubled our efforts to be friendly to them, after hearing that.

Early one morning last week the man called for Larry to help him: he was stuck somewhere out in the country, and he’d revved his pickup so hard, the fan belt had flown off, causing the engine to heat up, and eventually blowing apart the air filter. (This is understandable, if you’d ever heard him starting his vehicles on cold mornings. He arouses the entire neighborhood by revving the engines to a high-pitched scream, then holding it there awhile, and next roaring it up and down, up and down, sounding remarkably similar to the tornado sirens. Poor vehicle!) Anyway, Larry pulled his pickup out of the mire, then put a new fan belt and air filter on it, all without charging him anything. So he shouldn’t have been so bent out of shape over that license, should he? Oh, well; that’s the way it goes, when one runs a business in which one has customers of the Homo sapiens variety (some of them are such saps).

I’ve finished Hannah’s pastel-eyelet white dress, and I was relieved to see it fits her perfectly--I had to alter the pattern considerably. Victoria’s dress is now done, too. It didn’t cost one red cent; it was made from leftover scraps I unearthed in my material closet. The skirt is a very full pale pink taffeta with flocked dotted Swiss, and a wide ruffle of lace at the bottom; the bodice is shiny white silk jacquard covered with white chiffon, and the sleeves and sash are unlined chiffon. Now I am about two-thirds done with Lydia’s dress; it’s a combination of coordinating calicos, lavender, green, and pink, with lots of ruffles, a double collar, and a double skirt. After that, I have one more dress to make for Victoria, pants to hem for Caleb, alterations to make on three dresses, and half a dozen flowered headpieces to make. And Dorcas and Joseph still need new Easter shoes. Stop the clock!! I’m running out of time!!

Last night Larry cut the three older boys’ hair. That done, he removed Joseph’s stitches. It looks very good, and I think the scar will soon fade away, and nobody will ever notice it.

A few days ago, I was counting all the animals we’d seen en route to Albuquerque; but I just knew there was one more, and I’ve finally remembered: it was that wild boar. I saw it Saturday night as we were driving north of Albuquerque. It was in the median, and it was eating something. It turned its head and looked at me, and sure enough--it had a funny little pig snout and lopped-over ears, and it was almost black. At least, that’s the best description I could get as we went flying past in the dark. Does it sound right? My sister said it was probably an escaped farmer’s pig. She was kidding me, of course.

It sure was pretty going up over Raton Pass. It had snowed, a wet, clingy snow that was stuck in clumps all over the firs and red sumac. My pictures don’t do it justice; too dark. I needed to be standing on the mountainside, rather than whizzing along on the interstate, with my camera on a tripod, and opening up aperture and slowing down shutter speed.

We traveled to Colorado Springs, where we got a room for the boys (except Caleb) and a double-room suite for the rest of us at the Super 8 Motel. We walked to the door of the suite, stuck the key in the lock, swung the door open, --

And stood and stared in astonishment at an apartment with a living room, dining room, and kitchen bigger than those in our house. There was a pull-down bed between kitchen and living room, and one of the couches made into a bed, too. So there really was no need to have another room for the boys, at all!

I went back to the front desk to tell the lady, and to get a few more blankets and pillows. At that point, the friendly lady behind the desk suddenly underwent a metamorphosis, and began making like the money we’d given for the other room had gone straight into her pocket, and now I was trying to steal it right back out!

“We don’t have more pillows,” she said snootily.

But the place was four stories high, with over 400 rooms!

I smiled politely. “That’s okay, then; we have our own pillows. Two more blankets will be fine.”

She scuffled her feet back and forth. “Well!” she huffed, “I’ll have to charge you more for that suite, if you put more people in it!” She glared at me. “I’ll charge you exactly the price of that other room!!”

I raised my eyebrows. “Never mind, then,” and I walked off.

My, my. Anyway, at least, by keeping the room, we had an extra bathroom. Bother! Why didn’t we look at that suite first, before getting the other room?!

During the night, Lydia had the flu; but by the next day she was well enough to travel, although still under the weather, poor little girl.

We went to the Garden of the Gods and climbed around on the rocks. I took pictures of several of our own Herculeses (is that the proper plural form of Hercules?) (or is it ‘Herculi?)--Joseph, Keith, and Teddy, pretending to hold the Balanced Rock up.

In one picture, Keith was acting like he was going to jump on me from a big rock above the Suburban. I found Teddy, Hester, Joseph, and Caleb hiding from me in some shallow caves. Larry crept up behind and. . .

ROOOOAAAARRRRRRRRRED!!!--which brought them skedaddling out in a hurry.

Victoria, who’d been in the Suburban, awoke then. She gazed around sleepily, then suddenly looked up and spotted me on the rock high above the Suburban. “Mama!!” she screeched, pointing and laughing.

After using up several rolls of film, I finally noticed the sign: No Climbing On The Rocks. Oops.

But there were at least a dozen other people, doing just that. Oh, well; we didn’t unbalance Balanced Rock, and nobody sailed off on Shiprock, neither. We left ’er all in one piece, that we did.

Traveling north from Colorado Springs, we had our air conditioner on, and scores of people were dashing around in Bermudas and tank tops; but by the time we got to Denver, we could see the snow clouds billowing up over the mountains. We went to Lincoln Auto, but didn’t buy anything; the jetski one of our customers wanted had already been sold, and we didn’t see anything else we couldn’t live without.

It got windier and colder all the way home. But the freezing rain predicted from North Platte all the way home wasn’t as bad as they’d cracked it up to be. We slowed down, anyway, just in case. The day after we got home, somebody had an accident on the ice near Grand Island and was killed. We arrived home at 1:30 a.m. Wednesday morning.

That night, Hannah told Bobby about her terrible mishap in the Super 8 Motel: she’d flushed her amethyst ring down the loo, ker-SPLOOSH. That was no dime-store quality ring, either. Yes, she was in tears over the misfortune.

Well, guess what Hannah came home with Friday night? That’s right; a new amethyst ring, just like the old. In fact, it’s even sparklier; the cut must be superior. So she was in tears all over again.

Bobby smiled at her. “Now, stay away from the plumbing!”

Bobby is a kind-hearted, generous boy.

Thursday afternoon, Victoria awoke from her nap with a temperature of 103.4°. She probably caught whatever it was Lydia had. I quickly gave her a bath, cooling it gradually down to lukewarm; when I got her out and re-dressed her, her temperature had dropped considerably. I gave her infant’s Tylenol, too. She felt better right away, but even tonight she didn’t quite seem up to par. Hester and Lydia didn’t feel good tonight, either; and Joseph was sick this morning.

Keith bought himself a dremel, and has used it, along with all the other woodworking tools, to make several pretty oval picture frames. His skills are improving; each project is a little better than the last.

According to the tag that came with Lydia’s little bean-bag dog, Rumply Sharpei, he had a birthday last week. Lydia was greatly concerned over the event, wondering where a person would buy puppy presents, and such like. I found myself unwittingly promising to make that stuffed pup not one article, but two. And just when I have so many other things of importance to do!!

Oh, well. When Lydia came home from school and discovered the items, she was so delighted, I decided then and there that those things that are extremely important to my child had better be extremely important to me, too, for then will my little girl know I really love her.

She helped me pick out material from the fabric closet for a bone (brown burlap) and a ball (red fur). Then, while she was at school, I cut them out and sewed them together, getting the wise idea of putting a few beans into a small lid and inserting it into the toys along with the stuffing, so that the playthings rattled. That done, I wrapped them with birthday paper, stuck two bows on the package, and made a cute name tag with a teddy bear on it which said, “To Rumply Sharpei.”

When Lydia found it, she was so excited, she bounced. She bounced the whole while she unwrapped the parcel. And when she pulled the bone and the ball out, she bounced some more, which made them rattle, to her surprise, pleasing her no end.

And, for the icing on the cake, I’d found that there was just exactly the right amount of red fur left to make Lydia a skirt. Oh, wasn’t she happy! She’s got it all laid out, along with a matching sweater in bright primary colors, to wear to school tomorrow.

Yes, it was worth the time and effort.

Friday night Dorcas went with the girls in her class to some cousins' farm--the cousins who just had the little baby boy--for supper. There are four girls in her class, and only one is not related to her, and that one is related to both of the others! Second cousins, they are. Or maybe they are first cousins twice removed. Hmmmm. (Well, two are first cousins.)

One of Dorcas’ friends, the one who is not related, gave Hester and Lydia a big bag of pink clay she’d made. They’ve been busy making flowers with it and with the blue-green clay Lydia made a couple of weeks ago.

Larry has been working on the ‘More-Door Ford’. He said that’s a better name for it than ‘Super-Duper Crewcab’, as I've been calling it, because we might get it mixed up with my Super-Duper tacos, and accidentally eat it.

And that’s all, she wrote.