"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Friday, December 17, 2010

Christmas magic and more correspondence

It's like I've hit a mile marker. School is over. Teacher gifts are finished and given.


Cranberry - walnut granola. I love disposable gifts.

Waking up a little later than usual to a gently falling snow and time to make a great breakfast while enjoying my family -- it's Friday Christmas magic. I just feel more relaxed today.


The heat lamp in the coop must be working. Happy hens are laying hens.

I'm off to appreciate the little things in life. In the meantime, here's a little more of my email chain.


Emily (#9 and obviously the baby):
Some of you may have noticed, some not, but there is a perma-string-o-lights on the front eaves of Mom & Dad's porch. Wanna know how they got there? Will and I (and perhaps Joseph but he might have been missioning in foreign lands) waited until Mom & Dad went to nap and then backed the Tahoe up and over the grass out front (and truth be told, nearly over the flower bed too), perched a ladder on the back bumper, and then leaned the ladder against the top eave of the house. Will told me to hold the base of the ladder but of course my gloves were from Gap so I couldn't touch the rusted metal. He climbed up anyway. The things we do for Christmas. Is it any wonder they've been up there 4 years?

Will (#8): Heh, THAT was a pretty good day!

Joseph (#7): I think it was 1989 when I came down the stairs and there were 2 of the coolest little BMX bikes ever, right beside the tree. Will and I rode those bikes until the tires wouldn't hold air and the handles had worn through to the metal. In 1992 Dad refurbished those bikes complete with new chains handles and tires. We had not left for the beach yet but when we started packing up, I threw a stink about having to leave my bike at home. I promised it wouldn't take much space and that i would travel curled up in a ball and gave it my all to try and convice Dad. He finally said, "Fine, we can take your bike but we have to leave one of your siblings home." Evidently the reverse phsycology didn't work on me because I immediately said, "Yes! Leave Meg!" Evidently I thought I could kill 2 birds with one stone. Don't know what I had against Meg but I am glad that Dad stood firm and made me leave my bike home because Meg is still around while heavens knows where that little BMX bike is now.

Erin (#5): Do you remember, Meg, the Christmas we came home from college on the same flight as Josh coming from Ricks? We'd packed a whole footlocker with professionally wrapped gifts we'd gone in together on at the BYU Bookstore to take home to everyone. Josh had a cardboard box full of Idaho potatoes and a duct-taped locker full of moose steaks. All the way home on those cheap, change-planes-many-times flights, he babied that bleeding cooler into and out of the overhead compartments, much to the disapproval of the tidy stewardesses. Oddly enough, I don't remember how those steaks and potatoes were received when we got to the house, but I do recall thinking that our sweatshirts and baseball caps paled in comparison to the thought and care that went into Josh's gift for our family that year.

2 comments:

  1. Thanks for posting all of these memories. Makes me miss your family tons.

    Want one more? Cannot remember how old we were, and looking back I am so humiliated.
    Cabbage patch dolls were THE thing that year. Every little girl wanted one, me included. We all had Christmas at Grandpa's farm, but you all had opened presents at your Grandma's house. When you all came in, I think I must have drooled over those fantastic dolls with the yarn hair. I have no memory of how your parents finally stole one from one of your siblings and let me adopt it. I can imagine it was a lot of me following you aroun, begging to hold your doll and looking lovingly at her, as if I had never seen a doll before (and truthfully, the only doll I remember at MY house was named suck-er-thumb and had been shaved bald by one of my older sisters, leaving only holes in her head with plugs of whispy doll hair). I still remember the excitement I had when your parents handed me a doll and let me sign the adopton papers. I kept "Becky" on my bed unitl I went to BYU. I think she finally died when our house burned down, while I was in Utah.
    Thank your parents for me - for seeing the longing in my little girl eyes, and for filling the hole in my heart. I am sure it had to have been at the expense of one of their own children.

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  2. Oh Andra, I do remember that year. And there's no need to feel humiliated ever. We were all learning unimaginable lessons that have changed us forever.

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