Christmas in The Cove Part I

Remember the days of buying film for the camera? You had 36 chances to take the perfect picture. There were no retakes, no delete, no preview. What you got was what you got. Then along came digital cameras and it is nothing to take, oh how about 122 pictures. In a matter of a single day, no less. 

So for those that wonder what we do in The Cove during he holiday season, wonder no more. 

For it is at these times that we get-together just to be together, 

to laugh until we are crying, 

to eat Amish church cookies and pecan tarts until we are groaning (but still smiling), 

to cuddle with a nephew, to play Dutch Blitz and a hilarious game of Cow,

to sleep in piles of blankets and pillows, 

to eat cheese bunnies (No, I don't know why they are called that. I don't want to know.)

and to nearly get an eye poked out with the plug from an air mattress. 

Okay, maybe that you didn't always wonder about. 

So here it is, Part I of our family adventure. 

Enjoy! I know we did. 

In the words of my three youngest:

          "It was crazy fun!"

          "FUN!"

          "Relaxing" (I think she has repressed the memory of trudging up the long, slippery slope over   

                               and over, dragging a sled behind her.)

Heather 'n' Sam

Yep, cheese bunnies

Amy

Ryan................................................Eric 'n Sam

Your's truly! (Smiling before the 7 people on one inner tube crash;
let's just say that my face and the snow were quite intimate.)

Amy, Heather and Lisa-Anna
Well, maybe this is what Amy meant by "relaxing".

Awwww....schweet.

Yes, this is my gang.

Heather :)

Look out below!!!!!!!!!!

And on that note, I am headed to bed because "fun" and "crazy-fun" make this mama sleepy.
Only 108 photos to go!

Love,
Dianne

SNOW (and that's all!)

Snow-flakes

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Out of the bosom of the Air,

      Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

      Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

            Silent, and soft, and slow

            Descends the snow...

Assembly Required

Almost everything that we purchase comes with a set of directions on how to properly use, prepare or manage the item. The question is: Do you follow the directions (aka actually read them)? Or...
-do you simply discard them without a moment's thought?
-do you flip through them briefly, making the appropriate mumbling responses that indicate you understand them?
-do you keep them on standby, "just in case" you get stuck along the way?

In our house, Adrienne and I are alike. We read the directions. We follow the directions to the letter. We even have a file in the filing cabinet just for these instructions. The directions for the filing cabinet are also in that file.

Leo and Aaron and even Ryan are more alike. Men. Who needs directions?
I say this with love.

Amy and Heather are a blend of the rest of us, with Amy leaning more towards the "pssssh...directions...who needs them" and Heather being more directional.

Enter Christmas Day.
Enter new gadgets.
Enter furniture to be put together.
Let's just say I am glad it wasn't a bike.

I got a bookcase/desk combo (assembly required) and I followed the directions exactly. I have had times where I have not done this and pieces were put together wrong with unfinished edges exposed, etc. I hate taking things apart to fix what I could have prevented in the first place. Therefore, I read the directions.

The desk looks very nice by the way. (Thank you Aaron!)

Amy and Heather got what I thought were simple MP3 players. Just something that they can play music on and I won't get all bent out of shape over when they run them through the wash cycle. Did you know that iPods do not like being laundered? They don't, believe me, they don't.

Where was I? Oh yes, MP3 players and directions. Heather has her directions, Amy does not. I am trying to help them through the setup process. The manufacturers lie; they are NOT simple little gadgets. I now have to find directions on how to convert music files to a format that the little beasts can recognize. The MP3's that is, not Amy and Heather.

I seriously need directions on how to understand the directions. And a techie dictionary.

Enter an ice-cream maker and a packet of ice-cream mix. Oh, and Heather.
Now, she did read the directions, on both the machine and the mix. The machine she understood, the mix, not so much. It wouldn't be funny to me, but this is the second time this mix has thrown her for a loop. The first time, she just mixed it all together and stuck the connection in the freezer and expected ice-cream to happen. Umm, Heather, what about the "freeze as directed" part. You know, like in the ice-cream maker?

This time, she understood the ice-cream maker part, but the mix? She threw it all into the canister, unmixed, thinking the machine would mix it for her. Not so. Instead, it instantly froze the clumps of dry mix with milk in icy chunks that needed chipped out of the canister before we could proceed.

She was not happy. But, to her credit, she tried. The directions really aren't all that specific and easy to misunderstand. What is it they say, "If you don't succeed, try, try again" or something like that. Next time...perfection.

Directions. Instruction manuals. Patterns. Schematics. Parents.

They all tell us what to do. Sometimes they make sense, sometimes it's just a lot of words.

My today resolution: When I give instruction or direction to my children, I will (try) to make sense and I will be patient (Lord, help me here). We all learn differently and hear things as we want to hear them. I don't always need to be right. 

Love,
Dianne 

Snowy Christmas Eve

Earlier today as the snow came down, I was thankful.

Not everyone likes snow, but I do. 

I like that each snowflake is unique.

I like to think that each one was handcrafted by God.

Just like each of us. 

Unique.

Special in each our own way.

Perfect in the eyes of our Creator.

Loved.

So much so, that God sent His son Jesus to earth.

A helpless baby king,

sent to save each of us

from a fate that humankind became entrapped in. 

Sin, ugly and raw dooming each of us to a life separated from God.

Jesus, the only sacrifice worthy to erase the sins of all.

But first, He had to become man,

experience our pain, our grief.

Live the joy, the ups and downs,

to experience human life. 

He understands. 

"God with us~Emmanuel"

On this Christmas Eve,

as the music softly plays 

"O Holy Night"

I am reminded of the gift that Jesus was,

that He still is giving today,

tomorrow, 

always. 

Love, 

Dianne

Twas the Night before the Night before the Night

Twas the night before the night before the night before Christmas

and all through the kitchen the family was baking. 

All the people were stirring

in the pots, bowls, and pans.

The pizzas were baking,

the cookie dough chilling,

in hopes that supper soon would be shaking. 

The noises got noisier,

the singing of carols,

the Christmas TV specials,

and Transiberian Orchestra playing.

Outside the wind was howling,

the snow was blowing,

the donkey braying,

the cattle were lowing.

 But inside the house all was warm,

The family was snuggled 

all tucked on the couches,

the mother was sewing 

some last minute stockings. 

The cookie dough was ready,

let's roll them all out,

and add a few sprinkles

with a wink and a shout. 

For it is almost Christmas time on this night before the night before Christmas,

and we are together all snowed in this house.

We could all get quite grumpy,

as we trip over each other,

but instead we will smile 

at father and mother.

And now here is a glimpse of our winter evening...

Hope you enjoy as you prepare for this upcoming Christmas.

And above all else, in the hustle and bustle 

of the cookies and carols

the gift wrapping frenzy,

let's remember the birth of Jesus

who is after all the reason for the celebration.

He is why we celebrate and sing, 

and why we give gifts as He did for us,

by coming to earth as a wee helpless baby.

Merry Night before the Night before the Night before Christmas!

Love,

Dianne

Thoughts on a Tuesday

When the brain is tired, the body is weary and the soul is beyond either, it is not the time to deal with customer service a'la my cell phone service. After working three nights, dozing in my car for about an hour before meeting my girls in Somerset for an orthodontia appointment, and then shopping for a while, let's just say that when 5:00pm rolled around, I was ready to stop, drop, and sleep.

NOT talk to an automated voice asking for information that I could not type into my phone. This automated voice, in response to my polite "remove secondary password" request, would say, "I'm sorry, I could not understand..." Then I would, not so politely, respond:

"PassWorD!#@&*" 
Okay, some of the colorful stuff was thought, but not expressed verbally. I still had some sensibility.
Not much, but some. 

I don't remember ever putting in a secondary password. The purpose is to keep intruders from making changes to my cell phone plan, but seriously, when the administrator of the account can't even make changes, I think it is going a little too far. 

I may have even tossed the phone across the table at one point. Gently. 
The smoke coming from my ears and the lights flickering may have alerted my children to a meltdown. 
Then...rescue. 
Aaron's girlfriend, who apparently enjoys handling customer service reps, takes control. I gladly let her. 
She asked to speak to a live person.
She got someone who spoke English, for the most part. 
Pretending to be me, she got the job done. Of course, I was giving her info as I could while she got Adrienne's cell phone activated. 
Mission complete. 
Meltdown averted. 
Let's eat cheesecake. 

When I am having "technical difficulty" in life, what do I do? 
Do I try to fix it myself? (Often, yes, with not much success)
Do I go to a secondary source (like the automated voice)?
Or do I go straight to the one with the answers who knows exactly what I need before I even ask? 

God does know what I need. He cares for the small details. He handles it when I am finally ready to just give up the control. This week, with the tragedy in Connecticut, there are so many asking "why?" Why the children? It makes no sense. It makes us sad, angry and confused. Weary. Tired. 

I don't have answers, but I know that I need to give up the control, the trying to figure it all out. I need to just let God be God. It still won't make sense, but for today, it's enough. 

I know, kinda weird the thoughts that come out of a phone call, but I am glad for the reminders. I am glad that God works that way for me. 

Love,
Dianne

UnBEARable

I was a bear yesterday.
Not soft, cuddly and somewhat clueless like Winnie the Pooh.
Not sweet and gentle like Mother Bear. You know, Little Bear's Mama.
Not saving lives like Smokey the Bear, or just plain hungry like Yogi Bear.
Not easy-going like Baloo the Bear.

Rather I was like a bear just coming out of hibernation,
hungry,
not ready to wake up,
grouchy,
untouchable.

Here is some advice I found in dealing with bears (aka a grouchy mother/wife):

Never, ever feed a bear (This is wrong, so wrong. You must feed the bear. At all costs, feed her.)
Teach children about bear safety. (This includes feeding the bear, and bear cubs not bickering.)
Clean all food preparation & eating utensils immediately after using them. (aka: do your own dishes.)
Dispose of garbage in bear-proof cans or pack it out. (Please, if it is full, empty it.)
Keep campsites and campfire areas clean. (Goes along with the dishes and trash issues.)
Use a flashlight at night. (For reading under the covers because this is fun for the bear.)
Give way to any bear you encounter. (Sometimes this is for the best.)
Be aware of your surroundings.  Be cautious. (Self-explanatory.)
Give the bear a way to escape. (Hot tea, encouraging word, bear hug, cappuccino, funny joke, etc.)
Stay calm and do not run or make sudden movements. (Not sure about this one but it's a funny idea.)
Consider talking to it in a firm tone of voice to let it know you are a human. (Or rather, in a soft, gentle voice which turns away anger.)
If you are attacked, fight back, shout, be aggressive, use rocks, sticks and hands to fend off the bear.  (Again, NOT the way to deal with this variety of mother bear. Rather, stay calm, and love the bear. She is just having a bad day, having woken up on the wrong side of the cave. NEVER use rocks and sticks (aka harsh words). Sometimes, the bear just needs some space, some time and she will be okay.)

To my cubs,
I know I was a bear. My expectations of the day did not pan out like I wanted. That makes me unbearable (ha, ha) sometimes. But you showed me grace and love; you are all such awesome kids! You got me to smile, to laugh and come out of hibernation. From the help with supper, the French braid, and getting the tree out of the spooky attic and getting it together, you helped your grouchy mama bear get it together too. ~Mama Bear

I am not proud of days like yesterday, but they do happen. Hopefully not just to me, but in any case, today is a new day. I can shake off the last remains of hibernation and step out of the cave entirely because life really is bearable. 

Love with a little grrrrrr,
Dianne

Thoughts on Today and PB&J

Both alarms were going strong at 0715 this morning and all I wanted to do was hit snooze for an hour.  Then a chipper young lad comes and requests lunch money. For all of them. (Why is it that they never tell me until they are eating peanut butter and jelly as the school's only option?)

I growled a little and grumbled a little as I made my way down the staircase, eyes squinted against all the lights turned on because at our house, in the mornings, every single light is on. I really don't understand it at all. I get these notices in the mail that tell me my electricity use compared to our neighbors. We are always much higher. Do you think they realize how many of my neighbors are Amish? There may be a reason my usage is so much higher. Hmmmm...or it could just be all the lights are turned on.

Regardless, I was glad I was up, once I was up. Sometimes it's the getting there that is the hard part. Like going to work, or running errands; thinking about it and getting ready for it is just annoying and stressful, but once I am in the midst of it, I am okay.

But today? Today is different. Today is my day at home.
To catch up.
To wear comfy clothes all day.
To watch the Today show with a cup of coffee.
To have time to write my blog (ahhh, you have no idea how good that feels!)
To not have to go anywhere with a purpose in mind.
To play Christmas music all day.
Today.

Of course, I may go to the library later, just because I want to, not because I have to.

I need a day at home. Papers have piled up, laundry needs laundered, and I want to get the tree up. Finally. I think this is the latest that I have ever gotten around to doing it.

"Time is of the essence" has new meaning for me. When your time becomes less of your own, what is yours, becomes more valuable. Sometimes that means getting a ton of work done, but sometimes it means doing something that is enjoyable just for the sake of it and to maintain some sanity.

At least for me, that's the case. The sanity part. No kidding.

So, as I go turn off six lights downstairs, the coffee pot is gurgling out the last of its rich brew, and I am going to go enjoy a few sips as I plan my supper menu. Peanut Butter and Jelly anyone?

Love,
Dianne

Cheating The Times: A Math Story

The one time I can remember consciously cheating on a test was in the Second Grade. 

The Times Tables it was, and not even the hard ones, but the 0's and 1's. I just could not keep them straight in my head. I am pretty sure my intense dislike of math started in those moments. 

The day of the test was just like any other day. I headed to my classroom in the Annex B at Accident Elementary School, swinging my book satchel in one hand as I walked towards the orange colored building. I was thinking about playing with my friends at recess; maybe we would sit in the big tractor tires and talk or play dodge ball on the blacktop. Hopscotch or 4-square was always an option too, but then what about the merry-go-round? So many fun choices! This day, I had decided, would be the best ever.

Then the teacher, Ms. K announced that we would be having a little quiz later on the 0's and 1's times tables we had been focusing on. WHAT?!? Wait. A. Minute and back up the bus. No one said anything about a quiz in my lovely plans for the day. 

I began to feel a trickle of fear creep into my tummy. 

My hands felt sweaty.

My mouth got dry.

I wanted to cry. 

Instead, I pulled out a sheet of paper to put my answers on. I had my #2 pencil poised to print. My teacher asked the first question, "0x1" and I completely panicked. Was the answer "1" or was it "0"? 

Wiping my palms on my skirt, I glanced down, and there inside my desk, just peeking out enough that I could see it, was my study guide with the math facts written on it. With answers. 

I looked furtively around me to make sure no one was watching, and then I slid the paper out completely onto my lap. Ms. K asked the next question and then the next. But, before the next one was asked, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It may as well have been the grim reaper because I felt like I had just died. My teacher silently took both my test and cheat sheet and I was left to sit there for the remainder of the test, my head down and cheeks burning with embarrassment and shame. 

After the test, she took me aside and we talked about learning, about the times tables, and about cheating. She told me she would be talking to my parents. If the grim reaper wasn't at my elbow earlier, he most certainly was now. My perfectly lovely day had just gone from bad to worse. 

The week passed very s.l.o.w.l.y. My parents were strangely silent regarding the topic. It was agony.

Monday morning arrived and once again I found myself headed towards Annex B. My book satchel hung motionless at my side. Even the thought of the merry-go-round did nothing to cheer me up. But then Ms. K pulled me aside and told me that I was going to get to take the test again. 

A second chance! The clouds parted and the warm sun shone down on me once again. Birds began to sing as butterflies danced around my shoulders. 

I missed 2 questions, but I passed. I don't think my parents ever knew a thing about the until I asked them about it years later. Me and my big mouth. I do know that because of the whole incident, I learned my times tables and I wasn't really tempted to cheat ever again. 

The End. 

Love,

Dianne 

xoxoxo (which looks a little like 0x0 but equals "hugs and kisses" instead of zero) 

To Travel is Fine, To Return Home is Divine

“Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.” 
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.”
― Saint Augustine of Hippo

This evening, as the clock is nearing 11pm, I thought I'd answer a few similar questions from a while back. (And you all thought I'd forgotten!) From Brenda T. "Where would you most like to visit?" and Michelle M. "What is the one place that you would love to travel to? And why?"

Some questions you think would be easy, like this one. Not so. Maybe it would be if I only had one place I would most like to visit. As it is, I would like to visit:
     Ireland
       Scotland
          New Zealand
             Rome
               Jerusalem
                 Japan
                    Prince Edward Island
                      The Great Wall of China
                        The beaches of Hawaii
                            Nova Scotia
                              The city of Quebec
                                 Oregan coastline
                                     And the list could go on and on...
...but the one place I'd like to visit is probably the one at the top of the list, and that would be Ireland. Why? I just think it is a beautiful country with so much history, passion and pride. Whether in the quaint villages, the rocky coast, the craggy castles, the pubs on city corners, or in the fields fenced in with stone fences, I think it is a country I'd like to explore. But then I'd have to move on to Scotland because, it's close by and since I am already this close...

I do like to travel; it's just that little things like money, lack of vacation time, and the fact that I'd have to fly there, all put a halt to travel plans. I think that's why, when I have time (ha ha), I like to read. Books truly do "take you there" and inspire the dream of "someday".

Or I can just take a bath in Calgon which promises to "take me away..."
Or not, because I am not really even sure what Calgon is. I am not that adventurous.

Kinda like the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, I am. I like the idea of adventure, but when it comes down to it, in reality, I like things a bit on the safe side. Traveling is nice and I like to see new places, experience different cultures, but in the end, home is nice too. If I was away from home, the place I'd most like to visit would be right here.

So, in honor of the upcoming Hobbit movie (I can't wait!!!), here is a song from Bilbo as he is returning home after his larger than life, oh so grand, adventure of a lifetime.

Roads go ever ever on,

Over rock and under tree,

By caves where never sun has shone,

By streams that never find the sea;

Over snow by winter sown,

And through the merry flowers of June,

Over grass and over stone,

And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on

Under cloud and under star,

Yet feet that wandering have gone

Turn at last to home afar.

Eyes that fire and sword have seen

And horror in the halls of stone

Look at last on meadows green

And trees and hills they long have known.

Love,
Dianne

                          
                   

Christmas Traditions

A while (a long while) ago,  I asked for questions on Facebook. Rather than answering all at once, I have been answering as the timing seems right. Today, December 2 is the day to answer this one from Kelsey Bender: 

"How do you decide to whether or not make something a family tradition?"

I saw a picture yesterday from a cousin which showcased her parents making Christmas cookies with the grandkids. This sparked a conversation on how this was a tradition for them and how the same kinds of cookies are made year after year. This got me thinking about what we do with our families, especially this time of year during the holidays. 

There are some things that Leo and I do with our children simply because it is what has always been done, as it is for many families. Like:

          -exchanging gifts on Christmas

          -hanging stockings on the fireplace mantle

          -the tree

          -attending a Christmas church service

          -baking cookies

          

Then we have put on our own variation on it:

          -opening stockings and new pajamas on Christmas Eve

          -We have no fireplace to hang stockings, so ours have always gone up the staircase.

          -Our church service has varied over the years as we attend different services

          -We try to bake Amish Church Cookies, but other baking, not so much. My mom always

             makes cookies for the kids for their gift, so I kinda get off easy here. 

Other traditions that have developed over the years:

          -Camping out in the living room Christmas Eve as we watch "It's A Wonderful Life"

           (BEST Christmas movie ever!)

          -Hot chocolate as we watch the movie

          -I enjoy picking out an ornament for each child every year that fits them for that year

          -Mistletoe in the doorways

          -Red and green paper chain in the kitchen

          -A big Christmas breakfast

As the years go by, and the kids grow up, things change. Not only that, but I work too, often on Christmas Eve. We have had to adjust traditions even more, sometimes keeping the spirit of the tradition, just changing it to fit where we are. This year I have Christmas vacation and Leo and I were going to change things up a bit. 

An Old-Fashioned Christmas at the Bender Cabin...sounds fun, right? 

"But what about the stockings?"

"But, we have to open gifts Christmas Eve, by the tree."

"How will we cook breakfast?"

"It won't seem right."

"There's no electricity."

So, where do our family traditions come from and how do we decide which ones to keep?

I think they just happen and then they just feel right. Then they just keep coming back year after year, becoming tradition. There are things that I don't' really think of as "tradition", but as I found out when we tried to change it, they are. 

And don't you dare try to change it!

Love,

Dianne