Category: About us

Posted on

Little Pioneers…

Long ago and far away when the kids were little–well, little-er, we went on a trip to Martin’s Cove, Wyoming. We hiked around and kids even got to see what it was like to pull a real, live handcart. I took off my shoes and walked the whole way barefoot just to get a feel for it.

On the way up to the Cove, as we were making the long, dreary drive through the Wyoming plains we did everything we could think of to make the trip fun, but I have to say, this part of the drive was incredibly boring. Really, there was just nothing to see…nothing. In fact the view outside the car windows was even gray/brown and dull–like nothing. There were no other cars and no animals and no houses or farms or birds–I’m telling you that it was a slow day in this part of the country. After about 30 miles of this, from out of nowhere, up pops what appears to be a small, abandoned grocery store. We pulled in out of shear boredom and crawled out of the car to stretch. One of the kids went up to the door and peeked through the tinted windows and hollered, “It’s a real store! There’s a person in there!”

Well, she was right. It was a real store and it was open. We were so happy to see the the planet did indeed, still have people on it that we all went in. In our excitement, the kids were given permission to each choose a full-size package of cookies or chips for the rest of the drive. This was big stuff, something that they never really got to do. But seriously, in this dry, dusty, gray, hot, and really really dead looking part of Wyoming, we were ready to do anything to help the kids remember that life was still good and that the end of our long drive was coming soon.

Little bald kid–the one in the front of the picture, was so excited with his very own package of Nutter Butter cookies that when we got out of the store he kept jumping up and down and giggling–squealing really. He was so happy that he almost couldn’t contain himself. With one mighty leap, he threw his fist in the air and shouted, “I just LOVE Hawaii!”

Someday, maybe we’ll take him to lovely, lush, green Hawaii so he can see how funny that really was.

Alo-ha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please take our “Comfort Food Survey.” Click HERE.

Posted on

Cupie then and now

See those big brown eyes poking out from that ancient doll buggy? That sweet little dolly is a soft bodied pink Cupie Doll—very popular in the…old days. If you think I’m kidding, brace yourself. This picture was taken in 1959, you know, the stone age. We won’t be discussing how old that makes me.

But this cute baby has made it safely through all these years and is now meeting a new sweet dolly in the “living color” world. She’s waited patiently in an old box for so very, very long.

I suppose after all this time those tiny pokey fingers feel warm and right and familiar somehow.

Laugh if you like, but I’m pretty sure that dolly’s smile is bigger this morning.

And so it should be.

Posted on

Highland Fling

Today my dears, is National Tartan Day. Yes, yes–that’s what I said.

So you know, a tartan is the plaid, woven cloth that Scottish kilts are made out of. In the old days Scottish families were distinguished by the different tartans they wore. The richer you were, or the more “noble” your family line–the more colors you were allowed to use in your family cloth.

For those of us with a fair bit of Scottish in our blood–we’ll take any excuse to share some lovely pictures—especially when my cute little daddy is in them.

Here are the two Scotties themselves–“Uncle Joe Johnston,” who really wasn’t our uncle at all–but a beloved adopted cousin, and my dad at the family reunion long, long ago. The green kilt is the Johnston tartan–our family plaid, and the red one is the Royal Stewart tartan–one of the most popular plaids.

Here is the cute guy competing in the Scottish Caber Toss. It’s a real simple sport where all you have to do is take a log the size of a telephone pole–almost–and toss it so that it falls end over end.

Easy–you say?

Simple even…

But with or without a kilt, I’m certainly not doing it.

Happy Tartan day.

Wear plaid.

Throw logs.

Eat haggis…

or kiss a Scotsman.

Gerard Butler

My personal favorite.

heh…

Posted on

Rumple House

The first time a neighbor came in and saw my girls playing in a made up “tent” she nearly fainted. I suppose it looked like maybe we’d had a private, one house earthquake. But no–it’s just that we found that the sturdiest and most amazing tents–or Rumple Houses–as Lyndi used to call them, are made from cushions and blankets—lots of blankets, and…

furniture. Yes, that’s what I said.

If you’ve never made one before–oh, what you’re missing!

Yes, that is a chair and an end table in there somewhere sheltering a couple of happy kids and the perfect plate of brownie cookies. We liked our “rumple house” that way. They were a lovely thing and liable to stay stacked up and played in and slept in–merrily–for days. Usually until someone a bit too rational and ordered was on their way over, then down it would would all come…like it had never happened.

Some people just wouldn’t understand.

One of the girls’ little friends came to play once in the middle of our “tenting” adventure and said, “Oooooh…you guys are going to be in trou-ble. Just wait till your mom sees what you did!”

Of course, that’s when one of them piped up–“Oh, she helped us tip over the rocker—it was too heavy for us.”

Guilty as charged.

But she came in and romped and played all afternoon and left saying, “I’m going to see if my mom will let us have a rumple house.”

Good luck with that.

So, if you are one of those staunchy souls who are inclined to say, “No, no. Bad mom,” –be warned. We’ll likely just chuckle…

and invite you in.

You’ll love it…

and…

we have cookies.

Posted on

Rewind

Have you ever stood back and felt like someone had their finger on the “fast forward” button of your life?

Actually I feel that way all the time.

I very clearly remember my mom holding my hand in the grocery store.

Then not so long after that she was holding my brand new baby in her arms. More than once she said, “Watch very closely, because all this will go by so quickly.” I’m sure I smiled at her, but I didn’t “get it.”

Pretty sure I “get it” now…

…now, as I feed Natural Cheetos to my baby’s babies to entice them to stay in the car seat…

…now, as I play peek a boo with my second baby’s baby so that her momma can get a quick shower…

…now, as I watch my third baby bubble over with joy as she and her friends flit from one unbelievable  adventure to another. This is her winter concert with the Sterling Singers. Amazing.

…now, as I write letters to my fourth baby—my far, far away son and try to pretend–in front of everyone else–that thinking of him doesn’t make me cry…still.

…now, as I watch my very last baby—backing confidently out of the driveway, on his way to work as if he’s some kind of grown-up or something.

It seems to me that if there absolutely is a

then certainly, certainly…

it stands to reason that

there must also be a…

oh, please…

could we find…

the…

?