Good-bye Applewood

Applewood is a favorite restaurant of mine. I've been there numerous times, but the most momentous one was on my first date with Blair. We closed the restaurant down with our non-stop talking. We had so much in common and there was chemistry too! We liked each other instantly! Nine days after that first date at our mutually loved place, Blair asked me to marry him! I said yes with no reservations.

Many times after that, we'd go there to toast our good fortune in finding each other and enjoy the wonderful food as well. It was always special.

After Blair passed into eternity two years later, I'd still go there. Sometimes with family, sometimes with a friend. Just last week, with two hiking friends, I had a delicious lamb chop accompanied with gnocchi in a white wine sauce and parmesan cheese. It was great--as expected
.

Unfortunately, the restaurant is now closed. They will continue catering but not dining in. I will miss that place. It's full of memories of great conversation, delicious food--and best of all, the launch off of a wonderful relationship--and marriage. I'm sad they are closed, but everything doesn't stay the same. Even great eateries.  Moving forward.....for backwards is not an option.

Wedding Toast

Fall Changes

These kiddos are bigger now....

I've been feeling a bit melancholic the past week or so. Part of the melancholy is that summer is waning.

In a sense, change is good. I'm getting tired of watering plants, making sure the grass stays green, keeping out the weeds and slugs. Tired of monitoring open and closed windows. Watching out for fleas--a kitty who goes in and out of the house brings those critters with her!

No, that change is fine. It's that the school year is coming and with it brings excitement and a more set schedule. Even for those of us who aren't involved in school anymore, either as an occupation or parent. What's sad is there will be only two little ones needing my assistance in the homeschooling experience. The boys are taking more outside classes and need more time to stay at home to complete their studies. While I love having the girls, it's just another indication that all of my grandies are growing up and away from their parents--and me!

I read this morning in Jeremiah 10. This phrase stood out to me: The LORD of hosts is His name. That was a comfort to me, for He is over all. Even these fall changes and growth.

I will attempt to shake off the melancholy, for it's all part of the change of seasons. And I will recall that phrase, The LORD of hosts is His name. And I can call on Him because He loves me.

Fall, 2012

Sisters---Seesters---Sweaters

There are four of us. Joyce, me, Eileen and Betsy. We fiercely love each other. Though we may be quick to criticize each other, we also would defend the other if someone outside our group of sisterhood did. Being with my sisters is just like going home, For in a sense we are home to each other.

Two weeks ago, we had a sister week. Joyce came down from up north. Betsy came up from the hot southwest. Eileen and I were right here, in the middle. We stayed at my house.

Eileen, Betsy, Joyce, Shirley

I warned my facebook friends to watch out--for there might be uncontrollable laughter from four women who looked somewhat alike. I should have also warned my friends that one or all four of us might break into song! For we also like to sing and have a habit of singing just about anything.

We did laugh for sure. We sang. I didn't mention there might be crying, and that happened too. Why did we cry? Sometimes it was in anguish or frustration as we discussed our children. Sometimes there were tears about our situation--financial, alone-ness, fears. There were tears about our mates--because of them--or lack of them. We were equally divided. Two were married. Two were not.

We played dominoes. Learned some new rules while playing. Were quietly competitive.

We cooked together. Made the wonderful mouth watering delight of watermelon, eaten with krullers--the delicious confection a bit like a doughnut, but not as sweet. We celebrated a birthday and prepared her requested meal. German style homemade noodles with onions and pork, topped off with fresh glazed peach pie. A dish made by Mom long ago.

Preparing krullers

Yum, watermelon and krullers

Cutting watermelon

Using family cookbook for krullers

We drove together to re-visit places where we lived. We went to our grandparents' adopted home town where we drove around until we found both sets of grandparents' homes. We could see remnants of what we remembered the houses looked like. The train track was still there. Then we drove to their graves. They were wonderful grandparents.

My Grandpa Quiring's marker

My Grandma Quiring's marker

What was formerly Haley Baptist Church

We visited the country church where Dad was pastor during our growing up years. The church has a different name now. The lot where the parsonage and church sits seem so small. We posed in front of the elementary school three of four attended. The front of the school was unchanged, in all those years.

We all attended here

Why did I mention "sweaters" in my title? Well, that came up in our messages to one another during the week. One sister was texting another and the helpful speller thought "sweaters" was a better choice than "seesters". It is now the new family joke: the four sweaters: sweater #1, sweater #2, sweater #3, sweater #4. All unique, but woven from the same cloth: Mom and Dad,

I'm so glad God has blessed me with my family--God is good --and certainly has a sense of humor when He placed us together in our family.

Happy Sister aka Seester--err--Sweater Week! May they continue!

What Might Have Been/What Was/What Is

July 16, 1965 dawned a clear, hot blue-skied day. I was a mere 19 year old bride, excited to take my vows with my fiance, George William Rudberg, Jr. He went by Bill with his friends and family. By George at work and he had no problem switching from one name to the other. Little did I know when I took those vows what my future would be like, for none of us do. But it was a good ride with the normal troubles and trials, joys and sorrows. But we did it together, Bill and I. 

We had two surviving children, who produced grandchildren for us to love.

July 16, 1965

I didn't anticipate this photo taken on Father's Day, 2005, would be our last photo together where Bill was in a healthy state. No, we were just enjoying Father's Day at our daughter and son in law's home. I'm glad we didn't know the future. We had a wonderful time that day, little did we know soon, pain and sorrow would be our future.

June 19, 2005

I'm alone now. I married again. And sorrowed again in another loss. But that's another blog for another day.

 I'm not sorry I took those vows those many years ago now. For I would have missed out on the ride of a lifetime. Learning many things--like riding a motorcycle. Like rappelling off of Rooster Rock. Like climbing mountains. Backpacking. Fishing in the ocean. Taking flying lessons. Flying many hours in a small plane with Bill--the best pilot in the world--in my eyes, anyway. Loving much. I'll see you again, dear Bill. In heaven. But for now, I'll think about what was. What might have been. What is.

And One More Milepost

Greg and Blair at Oxford

How could I not include one of my newest sons! He will be thirty-eight on his daughter's birthday.Greg is one special man. He fiercely loves his little family, Caytie and Meghan.

Greg is a constant calmness in many people's stormy days. He is the one--especially now that I don't have my dad for theological questions--I trust the most in the spiritual realm.

Greg reminds me mostly of his father, Blair. A calm, resolute, do-things-right-guy.

Because I married Blair, Greg is my son. I'm so glad you're in my life, Greg. Happy thirty-eighth birthday!

Greg holding Meghan, Caytie and of course, Lucy!
In Baden Baden, Germany.

Mileposts...big ones and small ones...

Tomorrow and the next day are dates that are mileposts for several people in my family. Milepost One  is my own girlie, Erika Ann. Tomorrow she will turn forty. How can that be? I remember when she was born so clearly. The silky soft skin of her face next to mine. Her little six and a half pound body in my arms. The kitten-like mewing sound when she cried. I remember the pull of my heartstrings as I witnessed happy times and sad times in her life. Her name means "strong one" and she is that. Happy birthday, dearest daughter!

Big brother Todd holding baby Erika

Erika's 16th birthday with her two grandpa's

Happy times in San Francisco--we're moving Todd back to Vancouver

Milepost Two is my oldest grandgirlie, Rebekah. She's turning twenty-one on the day Erika turns forty. Though I met Rebekah when she was two, I'll never forget that pixie face, pretty brown eyes, and trusting smile when I took her hand for a walk. I'm so glad you're in my life, Boo. Happy 21st birthday!

In San Francisco

Milepost Three takes place June 28th when my youngest grandgirlie turns one! What a happy, well-adjusted baby she is! I can't wait to see her again when she comes back to the States. Happy birthday, dearest Meghan. Hugs and kisses!

Grammie and Meghan in Germany at seven months

Erika and Me

Lovely words....

I love words. Written words. Spoken words. A writer's words. My words. God's words. Sometimes I'm so inspired by words, I copy them down, just to read and think about them one more time.

I was struck by the following verse in Proverbs, written by a wise man, inspired by God.

By long forbearance a ruler is persuaded,

And a gentle tongue breaks a bone.

Proverbs 25:15 

How often have my words struck something in a person's heart and mind? I know my words are not always gentle. Sometimes they are harsh. Impatient. Are they profound enough to "break a bone"? I'm not sure, but I pray my words will move those closest to me to do good. To love more. To have mercy. Most of all, to love God.