Dress Rehearsal

I (Arthur) am writing this at 7:10 p.m. in the sweet state of weariness obtained after a day filled with adventure and fun.  Looking back on it now, it seems extraordinary that so much could be packed into such a small amount of time.  Alex and I woke up this morning knowing that we needed to treat today as a dress rehearsal for our vacation, an opportunity to pack up all the gear we would need during our hiking along the Presidential Mountains in New Hampshire and make sure everything fit in our packs, on our backs, and that we could hike long distances while carrying said cargo.

Consequently, we packed up our gear last night and greeted the morning at 6:00 ready to tackle a day of hiking at a favorite destination some of our faithful readers may remember from this February: the Tall Grass Prairie outside of Strong City.  It was a beautiful day; the temperature was ideal for late June (a max of 85 °F and most of the hiking done in the morning), a cooling breeze made the journey all the more pleasant, and ample precipitation made for a picturesque scene far more beautiful than the one afforded us before.  We arrived around 8:30 with a bounce in our step as we started out, awed by the prairie flowers and butterflies surrounding us (more on that in a moment).  Everything was so green; some of these pictures will make you doubt whether they truly come from Kansas.

 

It wasn’t too far into the hike before we noticed cattle in the distance.  I did not realize parts of the prairie were offered as pastureland, but we ended up passing by several curious bovine beasts in the course of our journey.  Alex got out her camera and photographed some of these exchanges.  I did not know if our readers, many of whom had probably seen cattle up close in similar circumstances, would be particularly interested in the documented evidence, but Alex assures me that Pioneer Woman does this and such is the discipline of photography.

We had gone about 4.5 miles when we reached the pasture where the bison live.  Here we encountered opportunity disguised as poor luck.  The bison had set to grazing right in front of the gate where we would have entered their field.  This meant we either had to wait them out or head back to find an alternate route.  You may recall that on our last pilgrimage to the area we were held up by bison as well, and may remember that we ended up closer to them than good sense would recommend.  This time, with a fence between us, we felt a tad more justified sitting down and having a picnic while waiting to see whether the noble creatures would grant us passage through their sovereign lands.  Alas, a half hour passed, and their stationary posture seemed a denial of our petition of passage, and so we picked up our belongings and began the journey back along a longer loop than the one from whence we came.

This picture was taken on our previous hike this winter-- contrast it with how green the prairie was on this trip.

Here however, opportunity smiled on us, with the appearance of fauna that might otherwise have gone unnoticed.  First, the state reptile, the ornate box turtle.  This little guy was booking right along at a pace I would have thought unobtainable in the turtle world, but with some cajoling he finally agreed to stick around long enough for Alex to snap a photo or two.  As we left our cold-blooded friend Alex expressed a hope that we would encounter no other reptiles along the way.  Well, that little foreshadowing probably evoked images of a particular limbless family of the reptilian clan in our readership; thankfully in this case the foreshadowing points to nothing but a particularly cooperative Horney lizard.

Far in the distance through most of the morning's hike we could see three large trucks going about the fields.  It sure didn't seem in keeping with the spirit of the place.  Our paths finally crossed and we found several people with cameras looking around.  It turns out they were counting and photographing butterflies, a not at all inappropriate activity in such a place of natural wonder, but the irony of driving huge trucks around an otherwise peaceful pastoral scene seeking perhaps the daintiest of all God's creation was not lost on us.

We then returned to the visitor center for a restroom break, water refill, and a phone conversation with Arnold (Alex’s brother).  After hiking around the Bottomlands  (hay meadows near the creek beds) for a while, around 3:00 we called the hiking portion of our excursion over, ending our 15 mile dress rehearsal.  Now our priority turned to food at our favorite little restraint in the area, Ad Astra.  We cleaned up as best we could and headed into town.  Ad Astra has already received rave reviews on our blog; excuse us if we rave again.  The food was magnificent; the atmosphere was fun, and the water was cold.  The waiter realized that when we downed our first glasses of water in a few gulps he was going to be on his toes with refills.  Instead he brought over an entire carafe of icy water.  We drank all of this too. We were heavy drinkers today, consuming several quarts of water each.   Once again, Alex and I split dessert, this time a salted caramel and chocolate tort which I will now wind up thinking about until our next excursion out that way.

Alex and I have been inspired by the idea of microadventures we first heard about through another blog we both enjoy, The Art of Manliness.  In the spirit of the microadventure, we made a quick detour on our way home to Cottonwood Falls, home of the oldest courthouse in Kansas still in use.  Made of native limestone, the structure is truly impressive.  I do not think it an overestimation to guess the weight of each cut of limestone at 1,000 lbs, and this was built in the 1870’s.  

And now we are home from our fun day, with lots of day to spare.  I’ve got some laundry going (I get a good laugh out of Alex when I declare myself the “Laundry Czar”)  and we’ll end the day with a movie, which sounds like just about the perfect way to end things.  Omnia Vincit Amor.

Random Thoughts

Now that we are finished with our series for Mothers and Fathers Day we have to return to posting stories from real life. This will be another random post since I can't seem to find a common thread to tie all the events together in a neat package-- after all we are not English majors but you probably know that already from the lack of editing and writing style.  We also have been dealing with slightly sporadic internet/computer issues this week so blogging as been at a minimum.

 -Last week a co-worker brought me some fresh herbs from her garden.  As I pulled out the little baggies of green  plant-like material from my pursue Arthur was somewhat suspicious that it might be questionable (drug-related) It was probably a disappointment for him when he found out it was just fresh dill, sage, and thyme. He then witnessed further questionable behavior in his wife when I started attaching the herbs to a hanger and hung them in our closet to dry. Our closets may smell like dill for a while now but I currently have freshly dried dill and thyme in my cupboard.

-I was afraid that Arthur may have thought I had gone completely over the edge during another kitchen experiment.  I had purchased a bag of lentils out of curiosity.  I have been trying to cook one new dish each month so for June it was lentil tacos.  Here's some background on lentils from Wikipedia: Lentils are a legume that grow on bushes in little seed pods.  The main location lentils are grown include Canada (specifically Saskatchewan), India, and Turkey.  Lentils have 120% of the recommended daily fiber in one serving and half of a person's daily protein requirements.   Lentils are also mentioned in the Bible in 2 Samuel 23:11-12.  I made a batch of lentil tacos which is basically tacos with lentils instead of ground beef.  They really were fairly decent and for a frugal cook I loved that I was able to get between 15-20 meals out of a $1 bag of lentils.  The downside was it seemed like the lentil tacos would never end.  Twenty meals between two people is a lot of lentil tacos, lentil burritos, lentil taco salad, and whatever other combinations I could dream up.  It was like feeding the 5,000 or the widow whose flour and oil never ran out while she was providing for Elijah.  Except I personally was praying for the end of the lentil tacos.

- Every summer our town has a city band that plays in the band shell at the park once a week. I love these community events that are slightly quirky and fun.  People sit in their lawn chairs or cars.  Those in cars honk the horn for applause.  During the songs that are marches all the kids get flags and parade around.  There was also a good variety of pieces from hymns to movie scores and more.  Arthur of course isn't in to the atmosphere as much but the music itself.  I think a few drawbacks for him was that it did sprinkle on us for several minutes and he sat next to a five year old boy who kept sniffing Arthur's arm-- it's harder to appreciate fine music with these distractions.

- So this year we have been spending a lot more time hiking but we did pull our bikes out for a 20 mile ride on Saturday morning.  In the past I have always assumed that I am just not a very good biker.  When we ride Arthur leaves me in the dust.  We decided to switch bikes on our latest ride and determined that the problem with my bike was not the engine (aka me) but the transmission.  I flew on Arthur's speedy bike and he puttered along as fast as his legs could spin on my bike (he's a wonderful husband- he wouldn't switch back to his own bike when I offered.)  So my bike is probably headed to the shop for a tune up in the near future before any rides that are too long.  I think Arthur is even more impressed that I was able to complete the 65 mile ride we did last fall on my bike.  I feel better about getting passed by 80 year olds on that ride now.

- We made yet another trip to Sonic this week.  My father drove through town and stopped shortly.  After reading so much about our Sonic trips he wanted to be in on the fun.  So we took him out for shakes at Sonic to celebrate Fathers' Day before he continued on down the road.  

- As most of our readers are from the Kansas area, you are all probably well aware of the warmer temperatures we have been experiencing this past week.  Saturday the temperatures reached triple digits.  Perfect weather for an outdoor wedding--right?  Our first friend that we made once we moved to town got married in the rose garden in the park.  It was a beautiful wedding.  It was also very warm.  Everyone was dressed up but we were also dripping with sweat.  We really felt for the guys in the wedding party in the three piece suits.  One of our friends was also a groomsmen and he made the comment that he was glad that they chose to were the vests with the suits because 4 layers of clothing was just about right for those conditions.  After the ceremony, the reception was held indoors and the party began-- popcorn, games, BBQ, dancing, pictures, etc.  Our role in all of this was serving the cake.  Whenever I am asked to help with a wedding I always secretly hope it will not be with the cake.  So much can go wrong and it seems like fairly high stakes.  The consultation this time was the other gal that was helping us is the county FACS (home economics) agent so she might have some professional training.  Also the lady who made the cake was at the wedding ready to assist.  We pulled out our knives and cake servers and settled into the trenches.  There were some stressful moments when the marble cake I was serving kept falling apart at marble layers.  Of course all the older ladies from church, legends in the kitchen, passing through the line assured us we were doing a wonderful job. 

-Omnia Vincit Amour

Fatherly Words of Wisdom

"Well, why not?  What else are you going to do?"  These weren't exactly the words I was expecting my dad to say when I mentioned the possibility of spending the summer in Alaska.  I was expecting something more like "Why don't you get a job that pays, after all money doesn't grow on tree and you are in grad school" or "What are you thinking you might get eaten by bears" or some other fatherly phrase that shuts the door on even the best laid plans.  I was bringing up the subject more so that someone would flat tell me that it was a crazy idea and then I would move on with finding reasonable summer plans.  Instead he encouraged my crazy idea and I had an unforgettable summer working at a camp in Alaska.

Dad has exposed me to a variety of different experiences.  One tradition my father started was as we became teenagers we could go on a 1-on-1 trip with him somewhere in the US.  Dad and I went to Maine and spent a few days on a windjammer cruise (think large sailboat).  Our cabin was the size of a closet and I don't think Dad slept the entire time because the bunks were not his size. For landlubbers from Kansas this was a step out of our comfort zones.  As we were sitting on an uninhabited island using a rock to try to beat our lobsters that we were having for dinner we decided that even though the lobster was good, steak is a lot less work.

Our next adventure together involved a spring break trip to the United Arab Emirates to visit Dad's brother and his family.  None of us had flown overseas before or experience anything like a Middle Eastern culture.  We ate Lebanese food (this was another stretch for my meat and potatoes father), visited the Grand Mosque, and experienced a little taste of metropolitan life in a foreign country.

My dad comes across as a fairly stoic, quiet man but sometimes what he does say leaves an impression.  He has classic "dad-isms" like "Don't make me pull this car over" and "That was totally uncalled for".  Dad was always one of our biggest fans when it came to watching our sporting events.  He suffered through two children being distance runners-- wind, heat, cold, rain, driving for hours to see his kid run by for about 20 seconds, or sitting through a long track meeting waiting for the 2 mile race-- until my younger brother, the basketball and football star came along.  Nevertheless, he was always there to support us.  The "dad-ism" I remember from track was when I was buying a new pair of spikes and he commented, "Those shoes look pretty fast, your times better be fast with those on your feet."

My father also played a big role in my journey through high education (besides providing cash flow, which was greatly appreciated).  My senior year of high school Dad took me to an interview at K-State for one of the top scholarship for incoming freshman.  I was slightly intimidated by having to interview with deans and other big-wigs from campus and after meeting the other students interviewing who were majoring in international business with a minor in Chinese and Middle Eastern politics or another student who just spent the summer doing research on elephants in Africa.  My college goals were to become an athletic trainer-- tape ankles, make Gatorade, and maybe get a star athlete back on the field after an ACL tear.  I didn't feel like I belonged with group of up-and-coming world changers.  Dad reassured me that my goals and aspirations were unique but important too and the interview committee cared more about how we "think" rather than our future plans.  He also strongly encouraged--or maybe even forced me--to step out of my comfort zone to introduce myself to several of the important people there instead of just waiting to be noticed.  My dad, who probably likes meeting new people less than I do, set the example by chatting with the other people in attendance.  While I am still not an expert nor do I always enjoy it, this experience taught me to have the confidence to put myself out there in groups of people.  Luckily over the past decade meeting new people has become easier which is good since I meet 3-4 new patients a day and have to delve into some type of small talk.  My father's other words of wisdom when it came to determining my choice of college when I had narrowed it down between applying to Duke and K-State was, "You can go to Duke, but your tuition money is going to K-State"-- thanks Dad for making that choice easier.

Dad's role in my higher education continued as I went onto grad school (at KU even and I don't think he wrote me out of the will for that).  As kids he always told us, "Whatever doesn't kill you will make you stronger", and this was very true about the rigors of grad school.  He would often call to check to see how I did on tests or projects.  One of my favorite memories of my dad was the weekend of my graduation.  He picked up my doctoral tam (why do they make you wear such ridiculous hats?), put it on, and did a jig around our hotel room.  The man was obviously thrilled and maybe even ecstatic that his children were done with high learning and were all gainfully employed.  I also use my favorite "dad-ism" almost daily at work as my physical therapy motto, "It will feel better when it quits hurting".  Omnia Vincit Amor.

The Joy of Summer

We have jumped head long into summer finally.  I love summer, especially June, with long summer evenings perfect for being outdoors.  This week was full of the sound of the crack of a bat, the sensation of jumping into a cool pool, the taste of the lick of the summer’s first Popsicle, and the smell of bug spray.

Monday night we headed out for the evening with our group of young adult friends to a baseball game.  It was teams made of up college players that play in some of the area’s smaller cities.  Baseball is just a great laid back atmosphere to enjoy with some friends. Through the first inning or two Arthur was watching the game pretty intently while I was chatting with our friends.  He leaned over and asked, “How good do you think these players are?  High school basketball games are more entertaining than this.”  I tried to inform Arthur that the lack of excitement wasn’t do to the players’ skill but that baseball inherently isn’t that exciting—it’s meant to be more of a fun social activity.  Arthur doesn’t view sports as a fun social activity and I think was pretty bored the rest of the evening.  I got the feeling that he hasn’t attended many baseball games when he stood and removed his hat for Take Me Out to the Ballgame during the 7^th inning stretch.

This week was also the first week of lap swimming at the city pool.  We were each able to sneak away from work in time to make it a few times and it felt great to get back in the water. Arthur was so intent in swimming his laps he kind of forgot to get out when the water aerobics class started.  Luckily he wasn’t in their way since a group of water aerobics ladies can be very territorial and vicious at times.  Now we will probably have wet swim suits and goggles hanging in our shower the rest of the summer.

Another evening this week my cousins Eleanor and Winnifred met in town for dinner and stopped by our house afterwards.  Winnifred (I tried to pick an appropriately Brittish name) is currently living in England but was back on this side of the Pond for a few weeks.  Growing up the three of us were the “girl cousins” that were all the same age.  We have shared numerous tea parties, sleepovers, cooking experiments, etc.  We enjoyed an evening of sitting around chatting and then made homemade smoothies, another summer classic.  (Although this is actually a treat Arthur and I indulge in all year long—recipe included at the end of this post.)

The garden is also plugging along outdoors.  With all the rain I haven’t had to water much but a few sunny days this week kicked the basil into grow mode so hopefully I will have enough for a batch of pesto soon.  Some good and bad news from the gardening front—Our kale loved the cool, rainy weather and flourished.  Bad news--within a few days caterpillars turned it into pitiful skeletons of plants that look like swiss cheese.  Good news—since the caterpillars dined on the kale, we don’t have to eat it. 

 On Saturday Arthur went into work to verify soldering irons.  This has to be done every few months and is easier if no one is there using the soldering irons.  I went to town with him and spent most of the day with my brother, sister-in-law and my niece.  While they were working on some projects around the house I supervised my niece and kept her busy.  She is going to be three years old in a few months and it seems like she is talking more all the time.  Nothing beats playing in a wading pool with a toddler.  I would splash her and she would shriek with glee and try to dump water on me.  We did this for quite awhile and then it was determined that we would play princesses.  She would be Anna and I would be Elsa (from Frozen, of course).  I wasn’t quite sure what princesses do but I was informed that they brush each others hair.  It didn’t take long to brush hair so we jumped in the pool again.  She was trying to do canon balls in about 4 inches of water.  We then each ate a bomb pop.  We discussed that the popsicle was red, white, and blue.  Then all of a sudden it became just white and blue, where did the red go (in our tummies of course)?  That was fairly troubling.  In the processes of deliberating where the red part of the popsicle went, the rest started to melt.  The beauty was then we just hopped back in the pool to wash off any of the popsicle that dripped all over us. 

That evening Arthur and I went to Symphony at Sunset to commemorate the anniversary of D-Day.  One of my good friends plays in the symphony so I got to talk to her some before the concert started.  The concert was held on the lawn at the Presidential Library.  Everyone was sitting in lawn chairs or on blankets on the ground.  The beauty of an outdoor concert, somewhat like a baseball game, is that it is more of a social activity that everyone sitting silently in a concert hall listening to a piece.  Younger kids were running around playing catch while the adults were sitting around chatting.  The concert included several patriot numbers—America the Beautiful and a tribute to all the branches of the Armed Forces.  There were a few Big Band numbers and then a tribute to Frank Sinatra.  They finished with two numbers by John Williams (one of my favorite composers) including Hymn of a Fallen Soldier from Saving Private Ryan and the Midway March.  The last number was the Stars and Stripes Forever.  It was a great evening for the concert and Arthur and I had a wonderful time doing two things we enjoy at once- being patrons of the arts and being outdoors. 

I have gone on at length about my love for the outdoors and summer.  Arthur on the other hand is reminded again why he isn’t all that crazy about summer or being outside.  We finally turned the AC on but he has taken up residence in the basement since he gets hot much faster than I do.  He is also a prime target for mosquitos.  While we were at Sonic on Friday night, we sat less than 3 inches apart on the same bench.  As we were walking home he was talking about how miserable he was and he had gotten eaten alive by bugs.  I came away without a single bug bite but his back was covered with about 15 large welts from the bites.  We have found another benefit of being married—someone to spray you with bug spray, scratch the bites on your back you can reach, and someone to lovingly apply anti-itch cream on your back. Omni Vincit Amor.

Fruit Smoothies

½ c frozen strawberries

½ c frozen mango

½ c vanilla yogurt

½ c water

1 frozen banana

2 T frozen orange juice concentrate

Blend in a blender.  Makes 2 servings.

Notes: the frozen fruit can be substituted—blueberries, peaches, etc.  It is also a great way to use up fruit that’s past its prime.  I tossed in some leftover pineapple the other night.   I also keep my bananas that are past their prime in the freezer for the express purpose of making smoothies.  I soak them in cool water for a few minutes to defrost to remove the peel and then toss it into the blender.  Since I use frozen fruit I don’t have to add ice.

Dad

In 1994, a Swiss survey showed that the number one factor that determines whether a child will grow up to be a regular churchgoer is whether or not their father attended church regularly.  That little factoid helps to illustrate the powerful effect fathers have on their children, and shows once again that I am not the "self-educated" man I thought I was.  As with Mom, I stand on the shoulders of Dad.

Dad is an honest, diligent, hardworking man.  As the above paragraph suggests, he is a regular church attender and church attendance was as much a part of our family culture as three square meals a day.  Dad is just as dependable as an employee (something I mistakenly took for granted as a given because of him.)  If he was ever late for work, I sure didn't know about it.

Dad worked as a greenskeeper at a local golf course while I was in elementary school.  I remember going out and helping him on various tasks, from pulling water sprinklers at night to driving the cart that picks up range balls at the driving range.  There's something really cool about getting to help your dad with his job that often just isn't possible due to the nature of different jobs; I'm glad I had the opportunity to help Dad growing up.

Dad was always my biggest fan.  He never missed any of my athletic activities except for one, when he was in the hospital with a broken back after a tree fell on him.  Apparently the first thing he asked of our pastor when he came to see him shortly thereafter was that he keep the stats for the basketball game I was supposed to play the next night.  I went and played my heart out for Dad the next night and had the best statistical game of my junior high career (a friend thankfully recorded the game so Dad could see it).

He was also a strict disciplinarian.  I am told, and do not have a hard time believing, that I was a very strong willed toddler.  My will met its match in Dad, and by the time I was old enough to really remember things, I understood that the momentary gratification of disobeying was not worth the subsequent consequences following swiftly behind (there's a pun in there if you wish to pursue it), a lesson I am certain authority figures at school and church appreciated my Dad providing me before being placed under their tutelage.

Most importantly by far was the love he provides.  "I love you," the phrase stereotypically most difficult for the stoic Midwestern man to utter, is not a difficult one for Dad, nor is "I'm proud of you."  When Alex and I come to visit, he is there with a ready hug, and I know he cares deeply about us and our well being.  In the book series "Clifford the Big Red Dog,"  Clifford was a runt, but because of the love of Emily Elizabeth (his owner), he grew to be as large as a house.  Well, I'm 6'6"; which gives testimony to the physical provision of Mom and Dad.  Had their love the same effect as Emily Elizabeth's, I'd be tossing Paul Bunyan around like a rag doll.  Omnia Vincit Amour.

I'm the small one in all the pictures except the last.

Sonic again

Everyone who reads our blog is going to begin to think that all Arthur and I do is hang out at Sonic.  This isn’t completely true but we do make more frequent trips in the summer.  Maybe it is just that our trips to Sonic are the most notable events in our day-to-day life.  Anyway, here’s another Sonic post:

Friday evening we headed out on a walk to drop our water bill off at the city office and to stroll around town for a bit with the intent of ending up at Sonic after 8pm for half price shakes.  It was a great summer evening and it seemed like about everyone else decided to drop by Sonic as well.  At our Sonic there is a patio area where you can walk up and order instead of having to stand in a parking stall.  We ordered the regular- hot fudge shake and grape slushy.  We have been using a Sonic gift card for our trips but it only had enough on it to cover half of our tab.  The gal brought out our order—hot fudge shake and Coke with grape flavoring—and Arthur gave her his card to cover the rest.  She came back out and said that they couldn’t take his card for some reason.  This left paying in cash—except Arthur has the habit of not carrying in cash.  We asked if we could run home and get the money which the gal said was fine but we would have to leave our order.  Through this conversation a couple who we sit behind in church every week overheard and loaned us the $2 to cover our debt.  We took the cash up to the window less than 30 seconds after we talked to the girl to retrieve our drinks.  She told us that some how our drinks had gotten dropped so they would have to make new ones and would bring them out to us.  We walked over to sit at the table with the couple from church.  They were celebrating their wedding anniversary with another couple at Sonic that evening.  They were chuckling because they had already helped out 2 young boys on bikes who had ordered ice water that they usually got for free but were charged 27 cents—they didn’t have money either so this couple bailed them out as well.  The car hop finally came out with our order—hot fudge shake and a large grape cream soda—Arthur was less than impressed with this.  Despite getting the wrong order and having to borrow $2 for our night out on the town we really enjoyed the evening.  We ended up sitting and chatting with these couples for about an hour and had a wonderful time (except Arthur got eaten by bugs).  I came away from the evening with a few lessons learned: 

1. Encourage Arthur to carry cash (actually this wasn’t anything new). 

2. Sometimes it takes getting outside the walls of the church to have fellowship with people on Friday night that you worship with every Sunday but don’t really know. 

3.  If you are looking for a good way to minister to others, maybe spend the evening sitting at Sonic and offer to cover another person’s tab—what an easy act of showing love toward a neighbor.  Omnia Vincit Amor.

Mothers (Part 2)

Growing up, I was enamored by the idea of a self made man, of being dependent on no one.  I fancied myself self-educated, at least, because all of my reading as a child garnered far more of an education than my experience during formal schooling.  It was not until I reached college that I learned how foolish my thinking was.  It seems simple, but I've come to understand that many of the kids I went to school with didn't necessarily have anyone telling them that it was time for bed, or were coming into school hungry, or who didn't have anyone at home providing constant encouragement, or emotional support.  Some probably dealt with environments that were emotionally crippling.  My grammar and secondary school days look drastically different without the love and emotional stability my home provided. 

It sounds so trite that the opening paragraph of a tribute to one's mom be that "she provided me with the things moms should provide to their children," but the fact of the matter is, that is a herculean task that Mom performed above and beyond the call.  Mom worked a full time job, came home and made sure we were well fed, and kept order in a house with two children doing their best to turn the home into a swirling vortex of entropy. (Editor's note: for those readers who don't have a physics or chemistry degree entropy is a term that means gradual into disorder within a system.)  Her insistence on a steady bed time, love, and meals resulted in her son developing a tall, strong frame; her bedtime stories and help learning to read led to a lifelong love of learning that has served me well both personally and professionally.

She was instrumental in my spiritual instruction; my Sunday school teachers dreaded having me in class because there was a good chance I was already familiar with the lesson material and would correct them should they get anything wrong.  As hard as it may be to believe, I am not always the easiest person to be around, all the more so during those formative years where the self control thing was still being learned, yet she loved me through it.

I was a sensitive child, and there were a lot of tears through those early years; but Mom saw me through them.  There were some pretty big triumphs during those years too; she rejoiced with me.  To this day, she is there in my trials and triumphs.  Omnia Vincit Amor.

Mothers Day (a little late)

My mother does not have the reputation for being a whiz at technology.  The tech geek in the family is my dad.  However, this blog would not exist if it wasn't for my mom's lack of technology savvy.  She was the first blogger in the family.  She wrote a blog about ideas for kids, families, and home-making for about 4 years.  Every month when her blog deadline was looming she would call me for technical support for her blog in charge of editing and adding any needed photos. Through helping her I decided to take up blogging myself and have really enjoyed it during this season of my life.  Arthur and I's goal for May and June is to write a blog about each of our parents for Mother's and Father's Day. 

 In addition to exposing me to blogging my mother has passed down many of her interests to me.  One is a love for reading. Each night as a kids Mom would read to us before bed.  On car trips she would often become hoarse since we always wanted her to read aloud-- I think she was very grateful when audiobooks came onto the scene.  Many of my favorite books that I have read over and over, Mom read to me first.  Now I am excited to share many of those favorite books with Arthur.

Also at an early age I found myself helping Mom in the garden.  I'm pretty sure at the age of 4 I wasn't really that much help since I probably ate more strawberries than I picked.  (Who are we kidding, this was true at the age of 25 too.)  Gardening is something that is passed down through the maternal line in my family.  My grandmother was quite the gardener and still today loves to sit on her back patio surveying her flora.  My mother will spend hours in her gardens, sometimes even into night she will be pulling weeds in the dark. Mom was my 4-H gardening leader and now I can't wait until I have a yard of my own and can landscape with the family plants-- some families pass down fine china, our family passes down day lilies.

One of the most important things my mother imparted was a love of learning.  Mom is a teacher and just couldn't help herself especially when it came to her kids.  Whether it was through reading, doing 4-H projects, or taking family vacations we were going to learn something whether we liked it or not.  I'm thankful for the love of learning because who can be bored when there is something left to learn.  

At this stage in my life I would say my relationship with my mom has blossomed into a wonderful friendship.  If I call to ask a quick questions before long we have been chatting an hour.  About what, who knows? We happen to share a Pinterest account.  This goes back to my mom's lack of technology skills and not having a Facebook account.  It is fun to trade ideas back and forth from afar.  We also enjoy doing things together.  One summer I was training for a week long bike ride and Mom got up every morning at 7am to ride 12 miles with me-- we had to be back by 8am to was HGTV.  We had such a wonderful time biking together that summer.  While I don't think biking is my mom's favorite way to spend her time I have very fond memories of tooling down county roads together on our bikes. 

We have also found ourselves together in other adventures.  I remember the weekend I moved to KC to start PT school and Mom and I were hurtling down I-35 with the suburban loaded with all my possessions.  I was scared to death to drive in KC and Mom wasn't too fond of it either but we made it.  Probably our biggest joint effort was Arthur and I's wedding.  Let's just say my mother missed her calling -she would be an excellent event planner.  While I was excited about getting married I was too busy and not too interested in all the details that go into planning and organizing a wedding.  Thankfully Mom stepped up in the role as wedding planner for me.  She made a large portion of the food, did the floral arrangements, put together all the decorations, and made my wedding dress- it was an impressive feat. 

My friends also seem to enjoy my mom.  While Mom was never "the cool mom" growing up (I don't believe this was ever her ambition) our friends enjoyed coming over.  My mom can throw a pretty good birthday party, feed 30 high schools with minimal prior notice, and always had some type of activity planned.  In college, my mom always kept me stocked with chocolate chip cookies which several of my friends still comment about today.  Often times they would wander into my room not to say hello or chat but just for one of those chocolate chip cookies.  I can only think of one time when my mom wasn't very popular with my peers and that was one day when she our substitute teacher for American History and we were watching The Patriot.  My mother ended up fast forwarding through most of the movie and telling us to "close our eyes" and "not to watch" through the rest due to the blood and gore-- after all it is a war movie. 

My mom has a degree in home economics so she is a professional at "home-making".  This is something else I did not seem to appreciate as much while living at home.  If I need to know why something I am cooking isn't turning out right, I call her.  If I am not sure how to remove ink stains from my khaki pants, she gets a phone call.  Questions about how to get the best deal on household products, she is the one I ask.  However, her home-making skills go beyond the objective, out-of-a-textbook skills.  Her home is always welcoming and comfortable.  Her home-making skills included providing a fun, educational childhood, encouraging us in our endeavors--even the strange and crazy, sticking up for us if needed or making us stand up for ourselves,  to today being a friend but also providing the wisdom that can only come from your mom.  Omnia Vincit Amor.