Thanksgiving at the 'Beeks

Our Fabulous Hosts, Bob and Susie

Our friends, Dan and Haley

Our friends, Luke and Katie

Husband with one of our young hosts, Joshua

And Joshua's little sister Chloe

And their oldest sister Abigail

Kitchen cleanup to Christmas Oldies with baby Ellie

The kids put on a show, the adults join in

Baby Josiah swings with his dad

Abigail dons her apron to help Mom

These kids love to dance

The one-year-old is tapping his foot

It was a wonderful, raucous, rip-roaring time.

Yes, I will give pictures to ya'll.

Happy Thanksgiving!

My original intention was to have these beautiful shots of the farm up and posted early on Thanksgiving Day. Dad took them last weekend while hunting. They summarize in many ways what I'm thankful for.

This week I was in the mood to bake. I knew we already had plenty of desserts lined up for our Thanksgiving dinner with our church family, so I decided to try Grandma Rogers' molasses cookies for the third year in a row. This is a recipe that I remember making with my mom when I was tiny--watching her roll out the dark, spicy smelling dough and helping to cut shapes with the bright, child-safe cookie cutters we had.

My mom would tell me about when she was a little girl, how she would walk to Grandma Rogers' house on the dirt roads lined with grass that was taller than mom's little girl self.

When she would get to Grandma Rogers' house, she'd head straight for the cookie jar where Grandma kept a stash of giant molasses cookies. My mom would fill a bucket with them and grab a blanket and walk back down by the roads where the grass was so tall. She would walk deep into the grass and lay the blanket down to flatten a little place down and the tall grass would make walls all around her like a magical house. And she would play there all day long and laugh at the few cars that drove by, because they couldn't see her hidden there in her grass house.

These images of the farm belong somehow with molasses cookies, and sweet memories handed down like recipes. I'm so thankful.

My favorite Hunters

Confession: I wasn't always proud of my family's hunting heritage. Growing up in the age of Bambi made it seem a little weird. I did try it once, at the age of ten. My dad gave me a bow and an arrow and put me up in a tree by the pond. "When you get so hungry you can't stand it, go back to the house," he said. I think I lasted about an hour. I had visions of myself yoking a deer over my shoulders and hauling it back to the house, but I didn't see a thing.

I didn't appreciate the whole camoflauge look at first. I sinned against my brother by hiding all of his hunting clothes when I was in charge of the laundry. He has forgiven me.

But I've come very far. The other day at work when questioned about what I was eating for lunch, I proudly said, as loud as I could: "This is a deer that my brother killed and my mom packed onto a plane from Michigan!"

Sick Day

I thought I had my cold all kicked, but it is not leaving. Waaah.

Homesick

I am in an exquisite place right now. I can hear the ocean crashing out my window, and in the mornings I can catch glimpses of sea lions, dolphins, and whales, not to mention the single seagull who likes to perch on my balcony and glare at me through the windows.

Up and down the beach I see people, alone or in little groups, just standing, staring into the Pacific. One or two are brave enough to go in, but they don't last long in the cold.

I always thought business trips would be exciting and fun, but really, all I can think of when I watch the waves is how happy I'd be if my husband was here. And maybe Una, too.

Only 2 more days....

Keeping the Old

An old friend came to visit me last weekend. It's hard even to believe that she's already an old friend. It seems like just yesterday I was a high school senior going to visit Wheaton College for Wheaton Connection. Most colleges probably offer something similar in which a freshman hosts a visiting high school student in her dorm room & shows her around campus.

I had been to the campus countless times before, as a child on pilgrimages to C.S. Lewis' "Wardrobe" which was always topped off with a trip to the bookstore where Dad would load us up with Wheaton paraphanelia, etc. I had been there to stay in the dorm rooms the night before leaving for Honeyrock Camp, also run by the college. But I had never hung out with the students.

Suzy Jeffreys was my hostess that night. I thought she was so cool. Even though we were only a year apart she seemed worlds ahead of me. She was smart with an edgy sense of humor, laid back, and had the most contagious laugh. She took me to the Stupe to get ice cream, we walked around the campus, went to WCF (world Christian fellowship), and then spent the rest of the night talking out of her window to other kids in the Fischer U.

I didn't know if I'd ever see Suzy again after Wheaton Connection. But the next year, when I went check out the swim team, there she was. As the year continued, we spent more and more time together, and after college she was one of the few people I kept in touch with. We lost each other for a few years, but just recently reconnected and fortunately Suzy's folks are in Denver, which gave her a chance to come and see me.

We had a great two days remembering old times, paging through yearbooks, driving through Los Alamos & Santa Fe, and just being together. She's still smart, still funny, and still seems worlds ahead of me. Who knew a routine freshman Connection would last until now?

Suzy (and anyone else who knew me back when) could tell you that college was a tough time for me for a variety of reasons. But God redeems the years. Last weekend reminded me of that.