Family Farm Friday #76: The Thanksgiving Ride

"I'd rather be on my farm than be emperor of the world." ~George Washington

It's hard being a rancher.  Especially right now.  We're seeing the worst drought in decades.  The soil is blowing, feed prices are through the roof, cattle are being sold and things look grim.  But sometimes you're reminded of what's really important.  Of why, even in the midst of all of the bad, we're the luckiest people in the world.

The day after Thanksgiving, we saddled up 5 horses and loaded up 6 people.  My Dad, Little Brother, Sister in Law, Cousin Swiss Mister, Little Cowboy and me.  And for two hours, we just went riding. 

We saw turkey tracks and lots of jack rabbits and three deer.  We remembered the apricot trees that used to be in the old orchard and how Gran taught us that there's no water that tastes better than that coming out of a windmill.  We taught Cousin Swiss Mister why you don't let a horse run back to the barn, learned that the black horse will stop acting like a twit after an hour, and picked Little Cowboy and me up off the ground after a small incident (i.e. he was losing a boot, so Aunt Tiff tried to lean over to help and the saddle wasn't cinched on tight enough, causing us both to fall off the darn horse!).  We talked about crazy dude ranch schemes, waived to the neighbor as we passed by his place, and kept an eye on the crazy llama watching us from the next pasture over.  Little Cowboy decided that we should change one of my aunt's names to Cheryl and promptly announced after falling off the horse that, "I didn't cry, I didn't cry!"

But mostly, we were just together.  We were outside under the clear blue sky on good horses, riding across land that has been in our family for generations.  If that's not reason enough to be thankful for what we have, to consider ourselves the luckiest people in the world, I don't know what is.

Don't Overlook Life's Small Joys...

Letters to Mr. Right: Letter #14

"He wasn't the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was disgusted by couples that made out in the hallways between classes, and got annoyed at even the slightest sapppy moments in movies. But I knew he cared about me: he just conveyed it more subtly, as concise with expressing this emotion as he was with everything else. It was in the way he'd put his hand on the small of my back, for instance, or how he'd smile at me when I said something that surprised him. Once I might have wanted more, but I'd come around to his way of thinking in the time we'd been together. And we were together, all the time. So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.”  ~ Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

Dear Mr. Right,

I'm ready for someday to be today.  I think mostly, I look forward to the little things.  Sitting on the couch together watching football.  Grocery shopping on Sunday afternoon.  Holding hands in church.  Talking about what to cook for dinner.  Fighting over the remote.  Sharing my favorite blanket.  The smell of cologne in the bathroom in the mornings.  The afternoons spent on the future front porch swing.  You walking on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street when we go somewhere together.  Dancing in the kitchen on a random Tuesday.

Because those things?  They'll be my definition of paradise. 

That Johnny Cash knows what he's talking about.

Waiting for that day,

Me

*Linking up with Ashley!

I Am Somebody

Our Ghost Story

"Every family is a ghost story. The dead sit at our tables long after they have gone." ~ Mitch Albom, For One More Day

My Uncle David had a cough this time a year ago. In less than a month, he would have been diagnosed with cancer and a week later, he would be gone.   Our last family event was Family Thanksgiving 2011.  It was also Uncle David's birthday.  We were together, with Uncle David right in the center of everything.  It all changed after that day.

This year, even in a room full of complete chaos--my mom and her sisters hystarically laughing, me yelling at the football game, the little cousins running around screaming like crazy people--there was a deafening silence.  It came from the absence of the man in the black hat, who was, for the first time ever, not sitting in the corner recliner. 

At dinner on Friday night, Uncle Black Belt introduced us to a military tradition of having an empty char at the table when a man was lost.  And so, there in the midle of the room, sat an empty chair and a black hat.  And Uncle David sat at our table, even though he was gone.

And that won't ever change.  That silence, the ghost story, the missing black hat, will always remain. 

It's Bedlam....Blog Swap!

It's time for the biggest football game of the year. That's right, folks. It's Bedlam today! For those of you non-Okies, Bedlam is the yearly game between my alma mater, Oklahoma State, and the University of Oklahoma. To celebrate the event this year, Veronica and I decided to do a little blog swap. That means my blog about Bedlam from the orange point of view is posted over at her blog  (click here) and she's taking over my blog to give you guys a maroon perspective. With that....take it away, Veronica!  (Oh yea, and GO POKES!)

Hello, Figuring Out the Plot readers, I'm Veronica and I blog over at Passion,Pink, and Pearls, where I blog about life, marriage, design and THE OKLAHOMA SOONERS! That's right, Tiffany and I are blogger friends but BIG college rivals...and if you keep up with either team at all, you know that TODAY is the BIGGEST day for both teams...why? It's BEDLAM game time! So maybe you're already a SOONERS fan or maybe you're a cough, cough, please no, a cowboys fan...well today you're in luck because I'm here to give you an overlook on the two teams and convince you to cross over to the land of Crimson and Cream.

And what better way to give you some facts, and make that cross over even easier, than a cool INFO-GRAPHIC? Many thanks to my husband for helping with the facts and design. Scroll on down for the facts...or if you're missing your cowboys fan Tiffany, you can click on over to my blog and get her info on the big game.

So are you convinced? Join in with me, BOOMER SOONER YALL!

Guest Blog Friday: Cousin SameMiddleName

Well kids, we haven't done a Guest Blog Friday post in a L-O-N-G time, and that's a little tradition I'd like to bring back.  We're doing that today with my little cousin who we'll call Cousin SameMiddleName (you guessed it...we have the same middle name!) talking about her desire to be a missionary.  She's still in high school, but this kid has a passion for it and she's got big plans.  I'm encouraging her to start her own blog so we can all follow along!  With that, I'll let her take it away. 

 

I always knew I would end up in Africa.
 

My entire life, I have been in love with the idea of Africa. I loved the entire continent. From the pyramids of Egypt, to the villages in the D.R. Congo, to the missionary stories from South Africa. I always knew I wanted to travel around the globe, but especially to Africa. I always have had a huge problem with the idea of going through school, then college, then getting married, getting a house, and having two kids and living "happily ever after." To me, that didn't sound happy at all. I guess you could say that "The American Dream," was not for me at all! And, while my mom, being a typical mom, decided it was a phase, when I got older it kind of made a wedge in between me and my father. Don't get me wrong, I'm still daddy's little girl. But it got harder to keep when I always wanted to talk about leaving, and not getting married, and not having a family, and how to me, that all meant nothing if there was no love for it. But I grew and I always was trying to find a nother way I could stay in Africa, and travel. Archaeoligy, medicine, mission work? No. I ruled out mission work from the start, because I've seen those kinds of people. They're strange, and I don't like people that much. So I did'nt put much more thought into it than that.

 

I always went to a small little church here in Peralta, and it wasn't a bad church. It was just the kind of church I didn't like. You went in, dressed nicely, smiled, sang the songs, then ran off to Childrens Church. You minded your manners, sat in your pew, and once it was over, you'd run out the doors, into your nice trucks, and get back to real life. And even though I was a young girl at the time, I knew this was'nt right. I know there had to be more than this to this whole "christian" thing.

 

Eventually, a new pastor by the name of Dave Blackwell, came to our church, and he was dorky. But one sunday, when the choir was singing, I made eye contact with him, and it was like I could hear him saying that I was his next mission. Like, somehow he was gonna reach me.

 

And, the years went by. By the time I was 15 it was the summer after my freshman year in high school, and I was'nt exactally the finest young lady by then. I'd been to parties, I'd been caught drinking, and smoking, I did stupid things with even stupider guys. I was your typical teenager, kinda. But the last week in july 2011, I went on a mission trip to the Navajo Nation around the four-corners area. The first night we got there was a Sunday, and I wanted to go home. My mom was there, it was boring, cold, and I was'nt the center of attention anymore. That night three boys came up to me and my friend Jocelyn, and said that they were really excited to do Vacation Bible School with us the next day, and that they wanted to hang out with us. So I did what I was good at, and I walked away. Went to my tent, and I didn't really care.

 

The next morning was VBS, and the bus went down into Sheep Springs and Naschitti to get the kids, and I hung out around, set up posters in the tent, and when the kids came, alot changed. The older youth, ignored alot of the older boys who were about ten - twelve. So I guess I just stepped in. The rest of the youth would go off with the rest of the kids, so I would stay with those boys and make jokes, and run with them, and try to be like a family. I don't know why, I just felt like that was what I needed to do.

Then at snack and lunch time, the youth would all go off and eat by themselves and leave the kids to eat somewhere else. And there were these two little boys who had to be two and three years old, And they wanted to play with the cactus, and so I ate with them, well, no I watched them eat while i tried to make sure noone played with the cactus. So every day, I would get them bolth and walk down the hill to where lunch was at and make sure we did'nt have any problems, and I tried to eat with the rest of the kids too so they didn;t feel left out.

 

There was one day in particular, where it was pouring, and the Navajo Nation, is mud, and dirt. we were outside, in nature, and wet, and cold, and by the end of VBS, the youth did'nt want to talk to each other. And so while we were waiting on the bus to come get the kids, all of the younger youth left, then the older youth left, then pretty soon the adults left, and there I was with about 45 kids in a tent out in the rain, and I was running trying to keep them in the tent, and safe, and someone came and asked me if I wanted help, and I screamed yes! I was livid! And so they went down the hill to get help, and still, noone came back. And eventually, the bus came, and the kids got to go home, and I got to go take a glamourous bath which was just wet wipes scrubbing to get the mud off of me.

 

But the entire first mission trip to the Navajo Nation, kind of taught me that I can do something, no matter how young I am. And I am not too young to know what I want to do with my life.

I always knew there was a God. I always knew, that Jesus died for me. It was just inside of me. I never really questioned if He was there, or if He had a plan. I knew it was there, I just did'nt want to follow Him. But after that mission trip, the pastor asked me to preach, and so I did. I talked about the trip, and about my life, and how some how, God has beauty in the brokenness of me. At that time, I was almost a semester into my sophmore year of high school, and I was taken out of school because I was failing all of my AP classes, because I could'nt sleep at night, because I was talking fifteen tylenol every night and cutting myself, because I wanted to die, because I felt like I was'nt worth anything, because that was what every guy eventually told me. Along with some other words that I won't go into detail about.

 

And of course, I had some genious friends who "cared for me" who came around with alchaol, and sex, and cocaine, and meth, and ALOT of pills, and parties, and I was back in the same boat again. I lost the fight.

 

But there is this event at the Calvary Chappel in Belen, it's called Ignite. And it's a 100% youth led function, where youth make a praise band, and lead classes, and cook lunch, and have prayer rooms, and a group from El Paso called King's Kids, stayed at our church, and we were allowed to stay the night with them, and that's where I met Julie. Julie Carafano, was beautiful. She told stories about going to the Eucrane, and South America, and helping people, by just being there, and holding hands, and hugging, but she did it in a way, that it was'nt like all of the other missionary people I had met. She loved, and she did it humbly.

 

That night, I sat with her, and talked about parties, and boys, and drinking, and throwing everything away. She did alot of the same stuff as me, and I felt, loved. By God. I felt God for the first time, and she told me about programs, and about becoming a missionary, and from that day forward I felt peace. About what I will be. I felt the peace of God come around me, and for the first time, I wasn't scared.

 

And now, well, December 27th, I am going on my first out of the country trip to Ecuador, to visit orphanages in Quito, and Latacunga. I am no where near being perfect. I am no where near being a good or even a decent person. I am always ready for someone to notice me sinning again. I am a sinner, in the deepest meaning of the word. But by the grace and love of God, I am saved.

 

I am a senior in high school, and so yes, I still have a lot of life left to live. But I refuse to live it alone. And I refuse to let it pass by me, because I was too busy having "fun".

I let God have control of my life, and it has been the hardest thing I have ever done. But it's worth it. Plus, it has great retirement benefits!(;  

 

Thank you!

Peace to you.



I Thank God...

“If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, ‘thank you,’ that would suffice.” ~Meister Eckhart

Is there anything more perfect than the faith of a child?  Little Linebacker learned a Thanksgiving song at school and sang it for me last weekend.

I thank God for the rustling leaves

For the tiny birds and the bumble bees

I thank God for the sky so blue

And I thank God for you.

I thank God I can play baseball

For the sunny days and the cold snow falls

I thank God for the kangaroo

And I thank God for you.

Could there be a more perfect prayer this Thanksgiving?  I don't think so. With that, I'll just say, Amen.  And Happy Thanksgiving!

Sometimes....

It's All Fun and Games Until Something Explodes...

"If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried."  ~Unknown

The (only part I don't despise) best part about working late is my daily chats with the cleaning lady.  She's got to be 70 years old, 4'10 inches tall maybe, missing teeth, from Guatemala.  We've bonded. 

Anyway, last night we were talking about Thanksgiving and I asked if she was having turkey.  She said she didn't like turkey.  I said I didn't either and that we had Mexican food for Thanksgiving and that I liked the tamales the best.  Well, next thing I know this sweet little lady is telling me that she's bringing me homemade Guatemalan tamales tomorrow.  Um.....yes please!

And because my mama raised me with good southern manners, I asked her what I could bring her in exchange.  She said she liked pie.  Applie pie to be exact.  So I said, "You got it!" 

Now.... the one small issue is that I have no idea how to bake an apple pie.  As y'all know, I set off my smoke alarm once a week at a minimum when I try to cook.  So, I turned to Google and Facebook for some assistance.  Some people suggested I just buy one at a bakery.  Come on, now.  I said I'd bake a pie.  I have some pride in my cooking abilities here.  Some people talked about homeade crusts.  Yea.  Don't have THAT much pride.  Basically I was looking for something that required more than apples out of a can and less than a homemade crust.

Enter a little recipe from Pillsbury.  So off to the store I went to buy my materials.  Because I know me and I've done this kind of thing before, I actually bought enough to make two pies, you know, in case the first one didn't turn out.  For the record, instead of the roll out crust, I used the frozen kind already in the pan and I added butter because I feel like a good apple pie needs butter.  Paula Dean would approve.

Anyway, so I came home, turned on the Texas/Red Dirt Pandora station, put on my favorite fuzzy socks, and set to work.  It was all going right according to plan....

And then, there was a minor explosion.  This is the kind of thing that only happens to me.  So my mom told me to melt some butter to brush on the top of the pie crust.  So, because I always do what my mom tells me, I cut off some butter, unwrap it, put it in a ceramic dish, and pop it in the microwave.  I'm doing some other stuff when I hear this super loud popping sound.  I thought someone was shooting at me, so I hit the deck.  After I realize I'm not in some war zone, I look in the microwave just in time to see a chunk of my dish flying across the inside of the microwave.  WTH? 

Clearly it was time to update the facebook status.  "Everything was going so well with the apple pie baking until the minor explosion."  Not two seconds later, my mom is on the phone trying to act like this is all MY fault.  Some line about how you melt butter on the stove not in the microwave.  About 5 seconds after that, Aunt Delta Dawn calls to be sure I'm not seriously injured (note difference number one from my mom...she asks if I'm still in one piece).  I tell her what happened and she says that she heats butter up in the microwave all the time (difference number two, non-accusatory tone and statement).  She assures me that my mom is wrong and we are planning a family survey at Thanksgiving Dinner to confirm.

Anyway, long story short I no longer have my favorite ice cream dish and had to do some serious cleaning of the microwave.  But the pie ended up looking edible and I'm looking forward to my Guatemalan tamales tomorrow! 

Jam Sessions, Tailgates, Touchdowns, Fried Pickles and a Marathon Relay

"The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time."  ~Anon.

Oh what a glorious weekend it was.  Let's get right to it, shall we?

So after what I can only describe as an insane day at work on Friday, I hopped a plane and headed for the Happiest Place on Earth.  That's right, kids.....I was off to Stillwater for game day weekend!

I do like it when I'm in Stillwater and the Pokes are in the end zone!

SATURDAY

Loud Oklahoma Girl and I kicked off the day on Saturday by headeing to SoulMate Friend's house.  This may have been my favorite part of the day, thanks to the adorable Little Linebacker.  First off, he was decorating the Christmas tree with "jingles" which is what he calls ornaments, so he was all wound up and excited. 

This kid totally has me figured out.  First off, when SoulMate Friend told him that Aunt Tiff was coming to town, he said, "Aunt Tiff go to the football game."  That is how I'm known to this child.  My heart is full.  Secondly, as soon as we walked in he said, "Little Linebacker wants a cookie."  His mama said no.  He then came over to me and said, "Tiff, Little Linebacker wants a cookie."  When mama says no, go to Aunt Tiff.  He's a smart one!

Up next came a tour of the house.  Complete with things like, "This is the bathroom.  That is the bath tub" and the like.  When we got to his room, we somehow ended up in a jam session.  Picture it, Loud Oklahoma Girl on the marracas, me on the little kid guitar, and Little Linebacker on the toy drums.  We rocked out to some We Wish You A Merry Christmas, ABC's, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Ba Ba Black Sheep (which turns out Aunt Tiff did NOT know the words to).  We ended the day with Little Linebacker singing us the cutest Thanksgiving song....which I have on video....but you'll have to stick around until Thursday to check that out.

She's having a baby in 2 monhs...could she be any cuter??

So after the wild jam session, we headed off to do a little tailgating and have a drink or two at Eskimo Joe's to pre-game.  That's where we met up with my dear Kiddo.  Bless his sweet 21 year old heart, he hung out with the old ladies and I think even had a good time?  He's a wild one that kid....I made it through three years with the Animal House Boys and never had a run in with the OSU police.  I was there for an hour with Kiddo and said run in may have occurred.  No worries, didn't have to pull the lawyer card.  Phew!

After that, it was game time.  I think that the word "domination" pretty much sums it up.  Nice work, boys.  Nice work!  Now let's get geared up for Bedlam on Saturday!

As we always do, we hit up the Penny post-game.  Any bar that has an air of cow crap, a bouncer wearing Carhart coveralls, and photos of cattle on the wall is my kind of place.  That's why it became my bar 8 years ago.  It just makes me happy.

Next up was Bad Brad's bbq for dinner.  And we went all out and ordered the fried pickles appetizer.  So.  Good.

We wrapped up Saturday night watching the complete chaos occur in every football game on tv.  I was so happy to see Oregon go down (and that mean that the Irish move up into the top two!!), but honestly was disappointed about K-State.  This is the same weekend that OSU got upset in OT last year, so I feel their pain.  However, as of today, the Fighting Irish are #1 and you know this girl loves it!

I'm this excited.  Again.

SUNDAY

 

Yesterday morning it was time for the big marathon relay event!  At the Tulsa Route 66 Marathon they have a marathon relay event where you get teams of 5 and then each of you runs between 5-5.6 miles, for a total of 26.1.  Now, for those of you thinking, "Wait a minute, she drank all day and ate fried pickles and then ran??"  Yea.  I did.  And I was worried about it.  That is until I started running. 

Me and LOKG at the start of my leg.

 As I usually do, I had three goals for the race:  (1)  Finish.  (2) Run the whole thing.  (3) Run an 11 minute mile pace.  I realize that's not an impressive pace, but my training had not been good and I was honestly worried about running the 5 miles.  Well from somewhere (maybe the fried pickles?) I pulled it out and wound up running....get this...just under 10 minute miles!  It was awesome!  The girl for the next leg was on the phone when I showed up because she didn't expect me for 10 more minutes!  I was pretty proud of myself, and I've got to stop being such a slacker in the training department!



Pre-race team photo

We ended up 24th out of 46 teams---not bad, especially considering we had one team mate doing her very first race ever and LOKG running 5 miles for the first time ever.  It was awesome!  Go Team Slow Pokes!

Team Slow Pokes at the Finish!

Have You?

Found this via Nicole

Ooooo, dang.  Is there anything I could answer this question about with a "yes?"  Straight to the heart for this girl.

Beauty

Let's Rant a Little...

"Some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our hearts, while others come into our lives and make us wanna leave footprints on their face." ~Unknown

As you've read before, sometimes a girl just needs to rant.  Here are a few things that have been annoying me lately.

1.  My gym.  Here is the story.  There is no excuse for me to have to go and ask someone two weekends in a row if they would please put the game on the tvs.  It's a GYM.  Why the heck do we have it on CSI, the home shopping channel and some Lifetime movie?  Are you kidding me?  Not acceptable.  It's freaking football season.  You're a freaking gym.  Get it together.

2.  People bashing on Notre Dame.  I've heard several people make comments like, "I just hate that Notre Dame gets so much attention and it always on tv even when they are not good."  "Everyone loves Notre Dame for no reason."  Okay, let me explain.  People love Notre Dame because it's full of tradition.  It's because they are always on tv and the radio that they turn 5 year old kids like me into life long fans.  Until you've been to Notre Dame and seen what goes on there on game day, you can't comment on this.  I'm here to tell you, and this is from a girl who has been to a lot of great college football events, there is nothing like game day at Notre Dame.  That place is magical.  Especially when they win in  over time and you rush the field.  And this year, they're 10-0 so shut your face about them being on tv (everywhere but my gym, as noted above).  That's right where they should be.

Photo of us singing the alma mater on the field with Eifert and Riddick.

3.  The deli.  So on Saturday night after the gym I went to the grocery store to get my favorite lunch meat, bourbon chicken.  I'd been looking forward to a sandwich all week.  I get home, make my sandwich, take a bite, and realize that the darn girl gave me regular chicken instead of bourbon chicken.  Really, lady?  Really?

4.  Creepy guy at the post office.  Here's the deal.  When you're all dirty (like need to take a shower or three), smell like liquor at 10 in the morning, and try to pick up a girl dressed in a suit, the line "Hey baby let me see if there's a ring on that finger" is not going to work.  You may get to see a finger allright, but it's not going to be the one you're asking about.

5.  My garage.  Well, this one is interesting.  See, I have this freakishly narrow garage.  I only park there in the winter because I hate to scrape ice off my windows.  You have to come at the garage at just the right angle and apparently between last March and now, I forgot the correct angle.  I now have a scrape of white paint down the side of my car to prove it.  And a damaged garage frame.  When people see my car, usually I could say, "You should see the other guy" as a witty comeback.  This time, I was the other guy too.  Epic fail.

What I'm Loving Wednesday!

“If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself.” ~ Rick Riordan, The Lightning Theif

Happy Wednesday!  Linking up with Jamie to share a few things that I'm loving...

1.  This blog that ND Friend sent me last week.  Talk about an amazing way to ring in a birthday.  Or even just a list of amazing things that you could do on a random Tuesday.  I love it.  Check it out.

2.  Blake and Miranda.  I missed the CMA's (I was at my birthday dinner) but caught up on them this weekend.  Did y'all see Blake and Miranda win song of the year for Over You, which they wrote together about Blake losing his brother in a car accident when he was 14?  Their acceptance speech was precious.  I just love them.

3.  This idea called Hope for the Homeless.  I got a little choked up just reading it.  You guys know that I struggle with how to respond to homelessness, and I just love this idea.  I'm going to be hitting up Target this week to make up some of these packages!  On this note, I've mentioned before that I try and pray for those for whom no one prays.  Just something to think about if you want to join in.

4.  This girl is Stillwater bound!  That's right...Friday night I'm headed to Oklahoma to meet up with Loud Oklahoma Girl to cheer on our Pokes against the Red Raiders on Saturday and to run the second leg of a marathon relay on Sunday morning.  My training has not gone well (as in I've not really done it....) so those may be a L-O-N-G five miles.  But my guess is that we'll still have a great weekend!

A sea of orange...a sight for sore eyes!

5.  These shadow boxes.  I absolutely love them and want to make a bunch from my travels....Costa Rica, Rome, Switzerland, Mexico, San Francisco, New York City, Washington DC, Chicago, Notre Dame....I could have a whole wall full!  I can't figure out how to make the letters though.  Anyone craftier than me want to help?

6.  Back in the Day by Brantley Gilbert.  Check it out.

7.  This blog that collects 13 lessons we learned from Mr. Feeny on Boy Meets World.  Man, I loved that show.  Seriously, I don't think I ever missed an episode.  I am beyond excited about the rumor that a sequel--with Corey and Topanga all grown up--is in the works!

8.  Uno Semana.  One week until Cousin Swiss Mister arrives and we head back to the ranch for Thanksgiving.  It's going to be epic!

Me and CSM at a water fall in Costa Rica

Family Reunion Recap (from July)

“This is part of what a family is about, not just love. It's knowing that your family will be there watching out for you. Nothing else will give you that. Not money. Not fame. Not work.”  ~Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie

I said I'd been a little behind on blogging.  By that, I mean I have still not blogged about our family reunion that occurred in July.  Good grief, Tiffany.  Get it together!

Over the summer we all loaded up and made the treck to my dad's counsin's house for some family bonding.  For us, this usually means a lot of eating, some drinking, a pool, some music, and definately some dancing.  We had four generations there to celebrate.  A good time was had by all!  I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.

There was one story for which pictures just don't do justice and that deserves being told.  Most of us were out sitting by the pool when the door to the house swung open and my dad's counsin's wife (you follow that?) said, "Great Uncle is playing the piano!"  You would have though that she said that Santa was coming down the chimney.  Everyone dropped what we were doing and took off for the living room to crowd around the piano to listen to Great Uncle play.  And we didn't move for the better part of an hour.

As our entire family was jammed into a living room and all eyes were on Great Uncle, I couldn't help but think that this, these moments, is what family is all about.  Four generations, in one room, listenting to those hands on the piano.  Hands that rode in a covered wagon, ran the General Store, fought in World War II, put a ring on Great Aunt's finger 62 years ago and accepted a plaque when our family's ranch reached 100 years old. 

These are the moments we'll be sharing with our kids and remembering in 40 years. These are the moments that define a family.

These are the moments that matter.

We're lucky to be living them.

 

Freedom Isn't Free

"On this Veterans Day, let us remember the service of our veterans, and let us renew our national promise to fulfill our sacred obligations to our veterans and their families who have sacrificed so much so that we can live free." ~ Dan Lipinski

Today is not just a day to enjoy an extra long weekend.  Instead, it's a day to remember those who have served our country, and those who continue to do so.  These men and women make countless sacrifices to protect our country and our freedom.  Nowhere is this more evident than Arlington National Cemetery.  If you've never been, it's something that everyone should see.

My family has an amazing military history--we've had someone from every generation since the Civil War serve our country.  Currently, Soldier Cousin is in the Army and we could not be more proud.

So today please say a prayer for our troops, for their families, and for our country.  God bless America.