Saturday, December 27, 2008
I'll be home for Christmas...if I can get out of Seattle
In my last posting I was greatly anticipating Steve’s arrival on Saturday night. Unfortunately, Steve was one of the poor souls that were stuck right in the middle of Seattle’s debilitating winter storms. At 9:30 pm on December 20th his direct flight to Medford was cancelled. All the hotels were booked. He and a thousand others were made to exit the terminal and wait in the airport lobby. No restaurants were open. All the benches and chairs were taken. He stood in line upon line, only to discover that he was rebooked for a flight on the 23rd and was on standby for a 4 pm flight the next day to Portland, with a Medford connecting flight. He found a corner of tile and curled up for the night, feeling sorrier for the families and elderly that were in the same position he was. He awoke the next day with a bruised tailbone, scruffy-face and no closer to home. The mounted displayed boards blinked continually with cancelled flights. At 10 am he decided to make a break for it and drive through the storm. Surprisingly, a rental car was not hard to come by. They quickly handed him the keys to a red four door striped down Dodge and wished him luck. From the onset he had battled to locate his luggage. He had to leave Seattle with the employee confirmation that his bag would be on the next flight Medford. He drove through the eye of the storm, some how evading the demands for chains. From Seattle to Salem he drove 30 to 20 miles per hour. At one point he called to ask if I could check to see if there was any end to the snow. I called my friend Kelly and with her help and Trip Check, I reassured him that south of Salem was clear. He cruised at a good pace and our weary traveler landed at the front door at 8pm. Thankfully, he made it home safely and with only a day lost of his vacation. Although, today is the 27th and he still doesn’t have his luggage.
Merry Christmas!
Mom has played the piano and organ for the Veterans Domiciliary Chapel for 34 years, all holidays included. I have grown up attending this church every Sunday and Christmas, sitting in the front pew next to my father. From a very young age I performed pieces on the violin, piano
and singing for the gracious Veteran congregations. This year, with Mom on the piano bench, I joined her once again this time with by sweet husband by my side. We took our song book and I sang some classic Christmas pieces before the service started. So much has changed over the years; the building, the pastor and the decorations and yet ,many things have remained the same. The hymns, the Biblical story and even the nativity scene is one I have gazed upon my entire life.It was an evening rich in memories... new and old.
Christmas day was spent baking and cooking and get ready for this....I
loved it! Steve and I spent days reading over recipe books, picking out yummy ingreduents and creating a savory menu. With the cost of getting home, we didn’t exchange gifts this year, so the meal was our gift to each other and to those that joined us.Mom supplied a Harry and David turkey; serenaded by Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby and the jazz musicians from the
Blue Note, we made sweet potatoes with apples drenched in butter and brown sugar, roasted beets, green beans, stuffing, cabbage salad, deviled eggs, Waldorf salad and a home-made pumpkin spiced loaf for dessert.We invited Mom and Dad’s friends John and Mary Beatty for dinner and after dinner our
neighbor’s across the street, John, Shirley and Rob, joined us for dessert. We ended the evening with all of us singing Christmas carols while drinking eggnog and spiced cider. When all went home...Steve and 
I drove Mom back to Talent. (She had had only three hours of sleep the night before and has been known to fall asleep at the wheel.) Steve and I came back to a quiet house and a slew of dirty dishes. When the last platter was tucked away in its spot we sat down with 
a glass of eggnog (laced with whiskey) and stayed up till midnight talking about life. I loved it. The entire day was joy.Side Note:
This is the first Christmas holiday that I have spent away from Drew. I really had to make up my mind not to let his absence negatively affect our holiday. Not a second goes by that I didn’t think of him or wish that he could have been with us. I talk to him every day and he is having a great time with his dad. It is some comfort to know that if he can’t be with us, at least he is enjoying himself. A special Merry Christmas to my sweet son, Andrew.
Happy 63rd Wedding Anniversary!
The view from the dining room window
this morning is trees, ground and patio furniture covered with five inches of snow, icicles hanging two feet from the edge of the roof and a front 
walkway covered in ice. We are not back in Alaska....we are in Klamath Falls. We made the trip yesterday to celebrate Steve’s parents’ 63rd wedding anniversary. We were joined by his sister and two brothers, their spouses and children. The house was abuzz with the traditional sights and sounds of a festive family gathering, complete with busy toddlers providing hours of adult entertainment. Aside from a delicious meal of sweet potatoes, salad
this morning is trees, ground and patio furniture covered with five inches of snow, icicles hanging two feet from the edge of the roof and a front 
walkway covered in ice. We are not back in Alaska....we are in Klamath Falls. We made the trip yesterday to celebrate Steve’s parents’ 63rd wedding anniversary. We were joined by his sister and two brothers, their spouses and children. The house was abuzz with the traditional sights and sounds of a festive family gathering, complete with busy toddlers providing hours of adult entertainment. Aside from a delicious meal of sweet potatoes, salad and homemade desserts (...plus a slow roasted ham for the non-vegetarians), we all engaged in a white elephant gift exchange. 
Quirky and "useful "gifts were up for grabs...among the treasures; 
a glass, green turkey bowl, pink wine bottle opener, a
chili-peppers and a foot massage pillow. We ended up with a camouflage lighter and a decorative shot glass with a figure of a hunter and his dog in the middle yelling for his gun. (hmmmmm...a possible re-gift for my big brother Hank) The entire evening was a touching expression of what an positive contribution a loving marriage gives to the world.
tie adorned with
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Back in Oregon!
Home at last!
Andrew and I made it to Oregon.
We had a picture-perfect flight from Hoonah to
coming over the snowy peaks to the left. Andrew said with excitement, “Mom, we are flying above the sun!” He was all smiles, circling in his seat, trying to take in the massive expanse of
mountains, water and ever changing colors of the sunrise. Upon decent in to
The challenging part of the trip came on the last leg with a 10:30 pm flight cancellation to
It was great to see Mom and to be home. Andrew and I have missed her greatly. On the flip side...I believe all home comings are some what bitter-sweet. Living in Hoonah, the passing of time and the lessons God has revealed to me… have changed me. The idea of "home" has changed as well. Those deeps thoughts I'll save for another post :)
Now - on to the fun stuff...
We went to church with Mom, enjoyed the pot-luck and afterward Andrew cornered Grandma for a piano 
lesson. He was dying to show off all he had learned from his Hoonah piano teacher.
Andrew and I dashed off to spend the afternoon with our friends,
Kelly, Shane and their four kiddos…Ryan, Sarah, Matthew and Ben. Andrew went to preschool with Ryan and have been best friends ever since.
Monday we woke up to two inches of fresh snow. Already sick of being cooped up in a car and house, we bundled our selves up and went to play in 
got in a great snowball fight. Of course, I had my camera and I tried to be a savvy nature photographer.
More fun afternoons were spent playing with dates with Ryan, Sarah and Andrew Hall. Legos seems to be the obsession 
with these boys. Here, Andrew and Andrew and pictures with their latest battleships.
Aside from watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, another passion my mom and Andrew share is playing cards. These two go at it all the time. It is fun to hear them laughing and shouting from the other room. They play King on the Corner, Spit, Slap Jack, Double Solitaire and a new one involving Kings. Mom is a fierce competitor, so Andrew earns his wins legitimately…making all those victories very sweet.
Andrew met up with Santa this week and asked him for all sorts of video game stuff, including a “Wii.” His wish came true. I just got a call from Andrew saying that Santa came to his dad’s house early and delivered a “Wii” Andrew said he stayed up last night until 12 midnight playing golf.
Singing for residents in retirement homes at Christmas time is a family tradition. With Mom as my accompanist, I sang a few opera and operetta pieces, patriotic and religious songs, and some Christmas favorites. This year, Andrew played the piano as well as singing Jingle Bells in Tlinget. He did a great job!
Friday, Andrew’s dad picked him up. He will be having more great adventures with his dad until January 2nd. Steve arrives in
It has a been a great week. Thanks for reading. I hope all you are enjoying the season with family and friends. We wish you all the best. We send you all lots of hugs and kisses!
Saturday, December 6, 2008
It's the Final Count Down
Today we are at our three month mark of living in Hoonah. With the holidays just around the corner, I am definitely in the final count down mode. At the time of this posting, Andrew and I have only seven days until we land in Oregon! We are both very excited about seeing close family and friends. Although, I thought it was cute when I asked Andrew what he wanted to do when we went home, and one of the first things out his mouth was, “Let’s go see everybody at New 10.” That was a surprising addition to the agenda.
Grandma has taken some time to set up a few performances at some retirement home before Christmas. This will be the first year that Andrew will perform some piano pieces, entirely by his choice. (In fact, when we were planning our day, yesterday…making up the list of chores and the list of fun stuff…he clearly indicated that piano and reading should be on the fun stuff list.)
Steve will be home December 20th through January 4th and is looking forward to relaxing, visiting his parents and friends.
Altogether, Andrew and I will be home for a month. We have lots of fun things planned and lots of down time to enjoy. I know the time will go quickly, so I am going to relish every moment!
Next Saturday, I won’t we able to post because I will have just arrived in Medford. So, let’s meet here again December 20th. Until then, join me in refusing to get wrapped up in the materialism and superficiality of the holidays and let's keep it real!
Have a beautiful day!
Big hugs and loves to you all!
Grandma has taken some time to set up a few performances at some retirement home before Christmas. This will be the first year that Andrew will perform some piano pieces, entirely by his choice. (In fact, when we were planning our day, yesterday…making up the list of chores and the list of fun stuff…he clearly indicated that piano and reading should be on the fun stuff list.)
Steve will be home December 20th through January 4th and is looking forward to relaxing, visiting his parents and friends.
Altogether, Andrew and I will be home for a month. We have lots of fun things planned and lots of down time to enjoy. I know the time will go quickly, so I am going to relish every moment!
Next Saturday, I won’t we able to post because I will have just arrived in Medford. So, let’s meet here again December 20th. Until then, join me in refusing to get wrapped up in the materialism and superficiality of the holidays and let's keep it real!
Have a beautiful day!
Big hugs and loves to you all!
St. Andrew's Day!
Last Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent. In Canada and Scotland it was St. Andrew’s Day. We celebrated both. I have been feeling under the weather so the festivities were not to my usual grandness, but none-the-less we learned about the apostle Andrew, his service to Jesus, Andrew’s crucifixion on a X –shaped cross (which later became the symbol on the Scottish flag) and the odd places his body parts are stashed throughout Europe. Scottish websites hail that all a person needs to commemorate the day, are good friends and good drink…in our case, the party included, Andrew having a friend over and me making pumpkin cookies. It was a good time!
On the Advent side of things, Sunday morning, Andrew picked a seasonal appropriate Bible verse and hymn to learn. We did some readings on the subject and this week an added bonus was delivered to our door….Rich Jennings dropped off an Advent wreath, candles and a prayer book. Every night at dinner we light a candle and read a daily reflection. I love the count down to Christmas. Although Andrew will be with his Dad from December 21st to January 3rd, we will joyfully celebrate together with the time we have.
On the Advent side of things, Sunday morning, Andrew picked a seasonal appropriate Bible verse and hymn to learn. We did some readings on the subject and this week an added bonus was delivered to our door….Rich Jennings dropped off an Advent wreath, candles and a prayer book. Every night at dinner we light a candle and read a daily reflection. I love the count down to Christmas. Although Andrew will be with his Dad from December 21st to January 3rd, we will joyfully celebrate together with the time we have.
A mile in his shoes...
Steve leaves again for Anchorage today. He will be back Wednesday night, just in time to see Andrew and me before we leave on Friday. During this Anchorage trip, he is going to a slew of finance meetings, trying to make right the wrongs the school incurred in previous years.
The last school board meeting was a tough one. The teachers and Steve held the line with patience and strength, against the sometimes harsh opinions of the board and the community members. The next morning, a school board member who understands education from her years of teaching, wrote Steve this letter…
Dear Steve,
Thank you for your passion. Thank you for your leadership. Thank you for sharing yourself and your family with our school and community. Thank you for helping me see that wading through the conflict is part of growing, changing, improving and excelling. You’ve got a lot of patience and tolerance.
Sincerely,
Sally Dybdahl
While I was growing up, my father would often remind me of the saying, “You can’t judge another until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes.” All it would take would be a few steps in Steve’s shoes and I would either think call myself a glutton for punishment or a never tiring warrior…Just sitting in on the board meetings makes my stomach churn. I so appreciate his perserverance and his vision. I don’t know how he does it.
The last school board meeting was a tough one. The teachers and Steve held the line with patience and strength, against the sometimes harsh opinions of the board and the community members. The next morning, a school board member who understands education from her years of teaching, wrote Steve this letter…
Dear Steve,
Thank you for your passion. Thank you for your leadership. Thank you for sharing yourself and your family with our school and community. Thank you for helping me see that wading through the conflict is part of growing, changing, improving and excelling. You’ve got a lot of patience and tolerance.
Sincerely,
Sally Dybdahl
While I was growing up, my father would often remind me of the saying, “You can’t judge another until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes.” All it would take would be a few steps in Steve’s shoes and I would either think call myself a glutton for punishment or a never tiring warrior…Just sitting in on the board meetings makes my stomach churn. I so appreciate his perserverance and his vision. I don’t know how he does it.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Belated Happy Thanksgiving...
Belated Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours….
Thanksgiving was a wonderfully lazy day. We all slept in and for breakfast, Steve made “crepes” (pronounced with a strong German accent) filled with compote and topped with whip cream. We watched a little bit of the Macy’s day parade and started a game of monopoly. When it warmed up to 42 degrees, we bundled up and went to the park. We played frisbee golf, football and baseball. I tried to get a picture of a bald eagle perched in a nearby tree…but the result was a brown blob on a branch. Baseball and football proved to be a slippery mess. After Andrew had taken a few slides in the mud, he was ready to go home and get warm. In dry clothes, he snuggled up on the coach and watched a video on Squanto, the Native American that helped the Pilgrims on the first Thanksgiving.
Our Thanksgiving dinner was a little quirky. Stephanie, the school’s English and my voice student, invited us to Thanksgiving dinner two weeks prior to the day. I eagerly accepted and asked her to let me know what I could bring. Over the next two weeks I got sick, Steve was gone and play rehearsals were in full swing. When Steve returned, an intense school board meeting left everybody whirling. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t have time to over think Thanksgiving. I just assumed it would all fit my mental expectations. (that was the first mistake) The day before Thanksgiving at four o’clock in the afternoon, Stephanie approached Steve and I in the main office with the hopes of brainstorming of what to do and eat for Thanksgiving. We passed some kid friendly ideas around and then she said that she needed to fill her husband, Ben, the Science teacher, in on all of it and get his opinion. It was six o’clock and still no call from Stephanie. We had no groceries in the house; the grocery store closed at seven and was not open the next day and had declined to other invitations. I was feeling pretty bummed. I really wanted to be out of the house for the holidays. But being sick, the play rehearsals, intense school board meetings, and not wanting to be presumptuous…I let the days go by and I wasn’t prepared. So, I suggested that we call them and ask them if we could just come for dessert. No matter how badly I wanted to be aprt of someone’s family chaos, we couldn’t, in good faith, at accept the other invitations we had received. We scavenged through our frig and freezer and came up with some “prize” dishes. Our Thanksgiving dinner was a simple meal of cabbage salad (Tricia’s pick), scalloped potatoes (Andrew’s pick) and chicken (Steve’s pick, by default.) We walked up to Ben, Stephanie and Jordon’s (their 11 year-old daughter) house with warm brownies, ice cream, chocolate sauce and the “toxic-red-dye” maraschino cherries that Grandma sent Andrew in the mail. They had made a delicious berry and kiwi cobbler. We indulged in dessert, tea and interesting conversation and Andrew’s bonus was playing with Jordon’s cool Lego collection.
It turned out to be a beautifully full day and helped me to appreciate the simplicity of just being together.
I have included some pictures from Andrew’s “Author’s Tea” that Mrs. Bidiman held for her students. Andrew and his classmate read out loud the stories they wrote for the school children in Belize. After their presentation, they served us baked apples and hot cocoa.
We are most grateful for our friends and family. We hope you had a beautiful holiday and may the next few weeks until Christmas be filled with a God’s comforting peace and love.
Thanksgiving was a wonderfully lazy day. We all slept in and for breakfast, Steve made “crepes” (pronounced with a strong German accent) filled with compote and topped with whip cream. We watched a little bit of the Macy’s day parade and started a game of monopoly. When it warmed up to 42 degrees, we bundled up and went to the park. We played frisbee golf, football and baseball. I tried to get a picture of a bald eagle perched in a nearby tree…but the result was a brown blob on a branch. Baseball and football proved to be a slippery mess. After Andrew had taken a few slides in the mud, he was ready to go home and get warm. In dry clothes, he snuggled up on the coach and watched a video on Squanto, the Native American that helped the Pilgrims on the first Thanksgiving.
Our Thanksgiving dinner was a little quirky. Stephanie, the school’s English and my voice student, invited us to Thanksgiving dinner two weeks prior to the day. I eagerly accepted and asked her to let me know what I could bring. Over the next two weeks I got sick, Steve was gone and play rehearsals were in full swing. When Steve returned, an intense school board meeting left everybody whirling. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t have time to over think Thanksgiving. I just assumed it would all fit my mental expectations. (that was the first mistake) The day before Thanksgiving at four o’clock in the afternoon, Stephanie approached Steve and I in the main office with the hopes of brainstorming of what to do and eat for Thanksgiving. We passed some kid friendly ideas around and then she said that she needed to fill her husband, Ben, the Science teacher, in on all of it and get his opinion. It was six o’clock and still no call from Stephanie. We had no groceries in the house; the grocery store closed at seven and was not open the next day and had declined to other invitations. I was feeling pretty bummed. I really wanted to be out of the house for the holidays. But being sick, the play rehearsals, intense school board meetings, and not wanting to be presumptuous…I let the days go by and I wasn’t prepared. So, I suggested that we call them and ask them if we could just come for dessert. No matter how badly I wanted to be aprt of someone’s family chaos, we couldn’t, in good faith, at accept the other invitations we had received. We scavenged through our frig and freezer and came up with some “prize” dishes. Our Thanksgiving dinner was a simple meal of cabbage salad (Tricia’s pick), scalloped potatoes (Andrew’s pick) and chicken (Steve’s pick, by default.) We walked up to Ben, Stephanie and Jordon’s (their 11 year-old daughter) house with warm brownies, ice cream, chocolate sauce and the “toxic-red-dye” maraschino cherries that Grandma sent Andrew in the mail. They had made a delicious berry and kiwi cobbler. We indulged in dessert, tea and interesting conversation and Andrew’s bonus was playing with Jordon’s cool Lego collection.
It turned out to be a beautifully full day and helped me to appreciate the simplicity of just being together.
I have included some pictures from Andrew’s “Author’s Tea” that Mrs. Bidiman held for her students. Andrew and his classmate read out loud the stories they wrote for the school children in Belize. After their presentation, they served us baked apples and hot cocoa.
We are most grateful for our friends and family. We hope you had a beautiful holiday and may the next few weeks until Christmas be filled with a God’s comforting peace and love.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Saturday Joy!
Steve comes home today! Andrew and I are so excited. I haven't had a good night's sleep in 2 1/2 weeks. Andrew misses visiting the Principal's office for hugs and peanut M & M's and then ambushing him when he comes home. (How many kids get to hide in a secret spot and shoot their Principal with a Stars War Clone Nerf gun when he gets home.) The house is clean from top to bottom and we even made him his favorite double chocolate brownies. Only an hour until his plane arrives :)
Quick note on the pictures in this blog post.
I am still having problems downloading pictures into the blog. I emailed them to Steve, while he was in Anchorage, and he posted them for me. When I dropped in the text today, I can't see the pictures, but I know they are there because of the empty boxes that show up. This also means I wasn't able to configure them to match the storyline. So if the pictures don't follow the story, I'm sorry. If they do...it was a lucky guess.
Andrew, Steve and I wish you and your families a very happy and blessed Thanksgiving. We miss you and thanks again for reading our blog. Have a beautiful day!
Quick note on the pictures in this blog post.
I am still having problems downloading pictures into the blog. I emailed them to Steve, while he was in Anchorage, and he posted them for me. When I dropped in the text today, I can't see the pictures, but I know they are there because of the empty boxes that show up. This also means I wasn't able to configure them to match the storyline. So if the pictures don't follow the story, I'm sorry. If they do...it was a lucky guess.
Andrew, Steve and I wish you and your families a very happy and blessed Thanksgiving. We miss you and thanks again for reading our blog. Have a beautiful day!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Hibernation
The season has come that bears are tucked safely away in their sound slumber. High and low temperatures of 32-27 degrees cause all pulses to slow. Even the Hoonah sky never appears fully roused awake. The days start out grey and move to darker grey. The “evening” street lights flicker on around 3:30 pm, man’s feeble attempt at evolution.
The first part of the week we were lucky enough to have the clouds clear after-dark to reveal the night sky. Although we haven’t seen any Northern Lights, the Alaskan canopy is gloriously bedecked with stars. Andrew and I walk to and from rehearsal, gawking upward. After reading this month’s National Geographic cover story, I am grateful for such a view.
It snowed, a wet snow, all day Thursday, outlining the thick pine trees, behind our house in heavy wonder. Andrew munched and threw snowballs on the way to school. Lagging playfully behind, he “ice-skated” down the frothy streets in his boots. My backside was a constant snowball target. With his baseball background, he rarely missed.
We are gracefully embracing winter, outfitted with warm coats, gloves, long johns, hats, fleece and boots…like an artist…the right tools create the masterpiece…and I appreciate that we are able to have the gear to allow us to enjoy this work of art we are experiencing.
I believe my soul’s tools are also being forged and refined, and at rapid pace. Over the last two months, as my inside landscape has quaked and then settled with new valleys, glorious mountain peaks and soft grassy meadows, I have gained invaluable insights that have deepened my life and strengthen my connection to my Maker. With life’s highlights, shadows, focal points, blending and unimaginable colors of character, God is using bold strokes and gifting us all lessons of a rich and humbling perspective.
The first part of the week we were lucky enough to have the clouds clear after-dark to reveal the night sky. Although we haven’t seen any Northern Lights, the Alaskan canopy is gloriously bedecked with stars. Andrew and I walk to and from rehearsal, gawking upward. After reading this month’s National Geographic cover story, I am grateful for such a view.
It snowed, a wet snow, all day Thursday, outlining the thick pine trees, behind our house in heavy wonder. Andrew munched and threw snowballs on the way to school. Lagging playfully behind, he “ice-skated” down the frothy streets in his boots. My backside was a constant snowball target. With his baseball background, he rarely missed.
We are gracefully embracing winter, outfitted with warm coats, gloves, long johns, hats, fleece and boots…like an artist…the right tools create the masterpiece…and I appreciate that we are able to have the gear to allow us to enjoy this work of art we are experiencing.
I believe my soul’s tools are also being forged and refined, and at rapid pace. Over the last two months, as my inside landscape has quaked and then settled with new valleys, glorious mountain peaks and soft grassy meadows, I have gained invaluable insights that have deepened my life and strengthen my connection to my Maker. With life’s highlights, shadows, focal points, blending and unimaginable colors of character, God is using bold strokes and gifting us all lessons of a rich and humbling perspective.
Birthday, Sunday and Bunco-day
This week’s highlights include: Andrew going to a new friend, Ethan Grey’s, 7th birthday party. Complete with home made chocolate chip cookies, chocolate cake, Oreo cookie ice-cream, and general chaos that comes with 15 children of all ages confined to a small area after eating sugar. The main activity, aside from opening presents was dodging a multitude of Nerf gun “bullets” and bouncing on an exercise ball. Needless to say, they were all having a great time!
Ethan’s family will be moving to Washington State in January. His Mom, Rene is the Hoonah 5/6th grade teacher. She was raised on “The Farm,” (last week’s post) and apart from getting her teaching credential in Fairbanks, has lived her entire life on this island. Their family: Rene, her husband (who was Mayor last year), Ethan and his older brother Truman are all excited for their new adventure…especially Ethan, who gets to spend the $70 he got for his birthday at Toy-R-Us in Seattle.
Sunday was the only sun day of the week. Andrew and I reveled in the light with a long walk along the coast. We made a short visit to the tiny, local cemetery. Andrew likes to go there, not only to read the names on the unkempt grave markers, but also to do the math of how old they were when 
the people died. He got really excited when he found one that died on his 3rd birthday. It may sound like a morbid outing…but it is fodder for thoughtful conversation. Andrew and I, along with 35 other adults
and kids, learned how to play Bunco at the Boy and Girl’s Club. It was a joint effort of the Big Brother, Big Sister program and the Boy Scouts. We headed across the street after school on Wednesday. They explained the rules, enough for all the ages 
to understand. The pace was great; fun and fast. Andrew ended up with five Buncos. I only had one. We both ended up taking home a prize; his, a stuffed animal rattle snake and I, a small pottery vase.
Andrew's goin' coco-nutty!
On Friday, he presented a thorough speech on coconuts. From research, to presentation, he did a great job. He was most proud of the fact that he typed his entire report by himself. The speech was a breeze and the chewy coconut cookies were a hit!Fun facts about coconuts! Did you know....?
There is so much “water” in a coconut that it could fill a liter bottle.
Indonesia is the largest producer coconuts.
Coconuts can be used to make rugs, walls, brooms and ice cream holders.
What appear to be different types of coconuts, is actually the same fruit in different stages of maturity.
Our Neighborhood
Since I have arrived in Hoonah, I have sought to share with you the true beauty and mystique of this place. Here is another side of Hoonah. Let me introduce you to our neighborhood. I have yet to comprehend this demonstration, but I am trying…Perhaps, you may see why it crucial for me to keep my eyes fixed on nature and the journey of
my soul, for the view of the unskilled human hand is glaring and disturbing. While I do contem
plate the
whole reality of my surroundings, I know I will never fully understand. Nature does what it does best…it grounds me, lifts me and keeps my soul from sinking to the state of dishevelment that is manifest in our neighborhood.
This is what we see everyday… next door, across the street and on our walk to school.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Another great week...
We are so fortunate…the good times just keep on coming. This week it was the school carnival, Thanksgiving dinner at “The Farm,” the Veterans assembly, parent/teacher conferences, the first and only home volleyball game of the year, (Yes, we won!) and our major purchase of Alaskan tennis sho
es, a rainy weather must.
The rain and wind has been awful. This week is the only time I really wish we had our car up here. When ever we go out of the house our jeans get drenched from top to bottom. I am going to have to break out the rain pants. The clouds cleared on Thursday morning, just in time for me steal a picture of the setting full moon. It is moments like that, that I wish I had a really good camera, perhaps I could have ended up with something much better than a dot on the horizon.
Steve is biding his time in Anchorage with all-day in meetings. As sad as that sounds, he unabashedly tells me about all the restaurant food he is eating and about feeling obligated to go see a movie with the staff…he tries to make it sound very “ho-hum,” but I don’t buy it for a minute. Andrew and I, both miss him terribly…thankfully, he will be home the 22nd :)
Speaking of home….It won’t be long before we are in Medford for a visit. Andrew and I are coming back December 12th. This will give us week to spend with family and friends before Andrew’s dad picks him up for the holidays on the 19th. Steve is done with school on the 19th and will fly in on the 20th. We are so looking forward to getting back to the “big city.”
Thanks again for reading…we wish you all a beautiful week!
es, a rainy weather must.The rain and wind has been awful. This week is the only time I really wish we had our car up here. When ever we go out of the house our jeans get drenched from top to bottom. I am going to have to break out the rain pants. The clouds cleared on Thursday morning, just in time for me steal a picture of the setting full moon. It is moments like that, that I wish I had a really good camera, perhaps I could have ended up with something much better than a dot on the horizon.
Steve is biding his time in Anchorage with all-day in meetings. As sad as that sounds, he unabashedly tells me about all the restaurant food he is eating and about feeling obligated to go see a movie with the staff…he tries to make it sound very “ho-hum,” but I don’t buy it for a minute. Andrew and I, both miss him terribly…thankfully, he will be home the 22nd :)
Speaking of home….It won’t be long before we are in Medford for a visit. Andrew and I are coming back December 12th. This will give us week to spend with family and friends before Andrew’s dad picks him up for the holidays on the 19th. Steve is done with school on the 19th and will fly in on the 20th. We are so looking forward to getting back to the “big city.”
Thanks again for reading…we wish you all a beautiful week!
Carnival Time!
Andrew’s school had a carnival and auction last weekend. Festive booths filled the gym, accompanied by dinner with home-ma
de desserts in the cafeteria. This enticing combination made it a synch to lure all the town’s folk to the school.
Andrew spun the wheel for prizes, snagged a Sponge Bob prize at the duck pond, shot some hoops, tossed some coins and even won an Oreo cookie cake during the cake walk! It is a huge fundraiser and usually clears around fourteen thousand dollars.
de desserts in the cafeteria. This enticing combination made it a synch to lure all the town’s folk to the school.Andrew spun the wheel for prizes, snagged a Sponge Bob prize at the duck pond, shot some hoops, tossed some coins and even won an Oreo cookie cake during the cake walk! It is a huge fundraiser and usually clears around fourteen thousand dollars.
Thanksgiving Dinner at "The Farm"
Hand-drawn posters for “The Farm’s” annual Thanksgiving dinner went up just before Halloween. The buzz around town was, this is not an event to be missed. I called the number on the poster and R.S.V. P-ed to Donna, the owner of Tideland Fish and Tackle. As everyone in this town wears many hats, Donna is also the pianist/accompanist that will play for my Hoonah recital in February.
“The Farm” is also known as “Game Creek.” The community was founded in the 70’s by Christians who were preparing for the end of the world. At its peak, there were about 150 families living a hard, but dedicated, isolated life; hunting, gathering, building and making ends meet, with minimal resources. Over the years the numbers have dwindled to just two extended families. Until the late 90’s, entry to “Game Creek” was only possible via boat and limited to high tide. In 1997, Sealaska began logging the surrounding area and built a road from the “Game Creek” to Hoonah. This opened up many new options for the families on both ends of the road. With the isolation dissolved, the “Game Creek” community started reaching out to the town of Hoonah. As this relationship grew, “The Farm’s” annual Thanksgiving dinner became a local tradition.
Stephanie, my voice student, and her family, daughter, Jordon and husband, Ben picked Andrew and me up at noon. Dinner was set for 1 pm. While “The Farm” is only eight miles away, it is a bumpy, swi
tch-back path, with a hike-in of about a half-a-mile. The weather was great…meaning, it wasn’t raining, yet still the path had areas that my sturdy Alaskan tennis shoes sunk two feet. We passed through a section of previously logged land, now covered with five foot saplings, into a thick Hemlock and Pine forest. The small creek below the walk was frozen over and along the path the tips of all the leaves and pine needles were outlined in icy white.
We hiked in with four other members of the folk band. They were packing mandolins, violins, banjos and guitars on their backs. I lagged behind to take a few pictures and then quickly caught up with Stephanie, to probe her for her take on bears. She has lived in Hoonah for 15 years, is an avid outdoors person and as never had any negative run-ins with our furry friends. She did add though, that a bear in the city is dangerous, because it is only a desperate bear that chooses to mix with humans in a foreign environment. She thought that carrying bear spray at night is a good idea.
There is no grand entrance to “The Farm,” in fact, aside from the path; an abandon house is the first sign of human impact. Soon, dense forest turns to large pasture. It is a picture perfect day…wooden-wire fence, frosty grass, bare trees lining the back drop, branches stretching into the misty sky, and a dirt road worn on both side form a tractor. So perfect, I forgot to capture it. Soon a large green house appears accompanied by an impressive investment of farm equipment. More dwelling places came into view, this time smoke rising from steel pipes on the roofs. It wasn’t long that our noses picked up the smell of home cooking. The delicious aroma was coming from a cracked window in the main building. Before entering though, Andrew and I did some exploring.
The clues of semi self-sufficiency were everywhere; boats, lumber machines, bicycles, a slew of propane cans, cattle sauntering in for the evening and even a ladies outhouse, with the inside lined with pink curtains and lit by a generator. The structures reflect a trial-by-error type assembly. The people that founded this land were not builders or farmers; they were accountants, musicians, nurses and lawyers. After a good gander the smell of fresh bread drew us inside.
Our boots were off and jackets were hung. Inside, we were warmly greeted by Donna, her husband Dave (who is also our piano teacher) and a handful of kids from Andrew’s class. From a convincing circle of toothy smiles and nodding heads ….Andrew’s boots and jacket were back on and outside he dashed with his friends. I slowly crisscrossed the room, trying to look interested in the crafty center piec
es on the large wooden tables and saying polite hellos to faces I barely knew. I put my camera down at a remote place-setting and decided to make myself useful. I apprehensively squinted in the direction of the kitchen…I knew no one was going to ask me to chop wood, so I put on a smile and headed in…I had stepped into a foreign country. There were eleven women hard at task in the oversized, industrial kitchen. Each working with such precision and ease is was unnerving. They all wore sweet faces, with smooth skin and pleasant smiles…not one of them broke a sweat. With the same apprehension that I felt when trying to safely cross the streets in Rome, I gathered myself in and briskly got my ready hands to the mashed potato section of the brigade. There, I scooped huge measuring containers full of perfectly whipped, buttery potatoes into a gigantic serving bowl. They labeled them “pure”, “spicy” (tainted with garlic and chives) and “undecided” (which was mixture of both). It was clear they didn’t need my culinary help, so giving one good look at my brimming potatoes bowl; I proudly exited the kitchen to join my camera.
The once empty table now, was home to twenty-five hungry diners. I glanced around and took in the room in and counted some seventy-five guests claiming their seats. A young man stood and briefly addressed the chatting crowd, offering a free raffle. It was for those interested in shooting and taking home a turkey that night. Numbers were drawn and given…two gentlemen claimed their opportunity. The chance to take home “supper” would take place after supper.
While final dinner preparations were made, they showed a beautiful slide show of how they spend their time at “Game Creek.” It was a light hearted depiction of the strenuous work they do everyday and a touching look at the close family bonds fostered by life in tight quarters. I must confess…this place is alluring to me. Parts of it make much more sense than living in Hoonah. Here, these people have purpose; family, connection, life or death accountability to each other. The children have real life responsibilities…not a make-shift chore list of things that “should” be done for stars, prizes or hugs from Mommy. “Game Creek” provides authentic learning and living in its purest form. These people are educated, talented and God-fearing and their existence is an anomaly, but not one to be entirely overlooked. It is fascinating in theory, yet as I take all in…even if only for a night…it appears to be working beautifully. There is something about “The Farm” that makes me want to stay.
After gorging my self with “spicy” potatoes, sweet potatoes, and salad it was time to make my real contribution, I was to sing. Introduced by Donna , I approached the piano at the other side of the room…and with a full belly and bundle of nerves, I sang the Lord’s Prayer. I did my best and to my mother’s dismay, when I shared the story on the phone, “No, I did not bow,”….who bows after praying? Dave, the piano teacher, also plays the cello. He and Donna performed two lovely classic pieces. I love how live music embellishes an occasion. After they bowed, the call was made, “dessert time!” Andrew and I truly indulged; pecan pie, fudge-peanut butter cake, orange cinnamon rolls, brownies, lemon cookies. Our plates looked more decadent than a Harry and David dessert sampler…mmmmmmm heavenly.
After dessert, the folk musicians unlocked their cases releasing the vast array of stringed instruments. Arranging themselves in circle, the group picked, strummed and bowed for two and half hours…Grandpa popping in
every now and then, sucking and blowing on one of his seven harmonicas. Andrew danced and hopped around the big room with the other children. It was a vision of a ideal childhood memory; giggling boys and girls, red cheeks and uninhibited movements of joy. Sharing solos, lyrics and chord charts, the tight knit musicians played the gamut of their repertoire. Tables were cleared, dishes were done, and chairs were stacked neatly against the wall. With conversations winding down, I had a chance to visit with Rebecca, a bright-eyed, eighteen year old girl that has grown up on “The Farm.” Transitioning from explaining her online writing class to me, she proceeded to go into great detail about her novel that she started when she was twelve and is still working on today. It is a historical, fiction piece that involves the Romans, Vikings and Wales and tells of a very complicated and brave heroine. Rebecca is almost done with “high school” and plans to go to nursing school in the fall. She was so refreshing to talk to…she, like many women, struggle with choosing a career and the desire to have a family. She too wants it all, and is willing to do the work to make her goals a reality. It seems as if “Game Creek” has served her well.
We said our sleepy-eyed goodbyes and started the hike back to our cars, sporting head lamps and carrying flash lights. Stephanie reassured us that are no recorded bear attacks for groups of three or more…we numbered five. Even without the reassurance, I felt safe. The dark drape of the Alaskan wilderness around me was deeply comforting. The visions of shadow and moon light made my eyes dance and the crisp kneading of Earth beneath my boots grounded me in the eternal. The refined, cool air was like sweet syrup in my lungs. The hush of the night gently soothed my ears. This was truly a thanksgiving dinner…a gift of warmth, joy and hospitality, a place without pretense or ambiguity, a people of kindness and a nature of peace. Again, I am humbled and grateful for my experiences and thank God for the awareness to appreciate the rich gifts that are before me.
“The Farm” is also known as “Game Creek.” The community was founded in the 70’s by Christians who were preparing for the end of the world. At its peak, there were about 150 families living a hard, but dedicated, isolated life; hunting, gathering, building and making ends meet, with minimal resources. Over the years the numbers have dwindled to just two extended families. Until the late 90’s, entry to “Game Creek” was only possible via boat and limited to high tide. In 1997, Sealaska began logging the surrounding area and built a road from the “Game Creek” to Hoonah. This opened up many new options for the families on both ends of the road. With the isolation dissolved, the “Game Creek” community started reaching out to the town of Hoonah. As this relationship grew, “The Farm’s” annual Thanksgiving dinner became a local tradition.
Stephanie, my voice student, and her family, daughter, Jordon and husband, Ben picked Andrew and me up at noon. Dinner was set for 1 pm. While “The Farm” is only eight miles away, it is a bumpy, swi
tch-back path, with a hike-in of about a half-a-mile. The weather was great…meaning, it wasn’t raining, yet still the path had areas that my sturdy Alaskan tennis shoes sunk two feet. We passed through a section of previously logged land, now covered with five foot saplings, into a thick Hemlock and Pine forest. The small creek below the walk was frozen over and along the path the tips of all the leaves and pine needles were outlined in icy white.We hiked in with four other members of the folk band. They were packing mandolins, violins, banjos and guitars on their backs. I lagged behind to take a few pictures and then quickly caught up with Stephanie, to probe her for her take on bears. She has lived in Hoonah for 15 years, is an avid outdoors person and as never had any negative run-ins with our furry friends. She did add though, that a bear in the city is dangerous, because it is only a desperate bear that chooses to mix with humans in a foreign environment. She thought that carrying bear spray at night is a good idea.
There is no grand entrance to “The Farm,” in fact, aside from the path; an abandon house is the first sign of human impact. Soon, dense forest turns to large pasture. It is a picture perfect day…wooden-wire fence, frosty grass, bare trees lining the back drop, branches stretching into the misty sky, and a dirt road worn on both side form a tractor. So perfect, I forgot to capture it. Soon a large green house appears accompanied by an impressive investment of farm equipment. More dwelling places came into view, this time smoke rising from steel pipes on the roofs. It wasn’t long that our noses picked up the smell of home cooking. The delicious aroma was coming from a cracked window in the main building. Before entering though, Andrew and I did some exploring.
The clues of semi self-sufficiency were everywhere; boats, lumber machines, bicycles, a slew of propane cans, cattle sauntering in for the evening and even a ladies outhouse, with the inside lined with pink curtains and lit by a generator. The structures reflect a trial-by-error type assembly. The people that founded this land were not builders or farmers; they were accountants, musicians, nurses and lawyers. After a good gander the smell of fresh bread drew us inside.
Our boots were off and jackets were hung. Inside, we were warmly greeted by Donna, her husband Dave (who is also our piano teacher) and a handful of kids from Andrew’s class. From a convincing circle of toothy smiles and nodding heads ….Andrew’s boots and jacket were back on and outside he dashed with his friends. I slowly crisscrossed the room, trying to look interested in the crafty center piec
es on the large wooden tables and saying polite hellos to faces I barely knew. I put my camera down at a remote place-setting and decided to make myself useful. I apprehensively squinted in the direction of the kitchen…I knew no one was going to ask me to chop wood, so I put on a smile and headed in…I had stepped into a foreign country. There were eleven women hard at task in the oversized, industrial kitchen. Each working with such precision and ease is was unnerving. They all wore sweet faces, with smooth skin and pleasant smiles…not one of them broke a sweat. With the same apprehension that I felt when trying to safely cross the streets in Rome, I gathered myself in and briskly got my ready hands to the mashed potato section of the brigade. There, I scooped huge measuring containers full of perfectly whipped, buttery potatoes into a gigantic serving bowl. They labeled them “pure”, “spicy” (tainted with garlic and chives) and “undecided” (which was mixture of both). It was clear they didn’t need my culinary help, so giving one good look at my brimming potatoes bowl; I proudly exited the kitchen to join my camera.
The once empty table now, was home to twenty-five hungry diners. I glanced around and took in the room in and counted some seventy-five guests claiming their seats. A young man stood and briefly addressed the chatting crowd, offering a free raffle. It was for those interested in shooting and taking home a turkey that night. Numbers were drawn and given…two gentlemen claimed their opportunity. The chance to take home “supper” would take place after supper.
While final dinner preparations were made, they showed a beautiful slide show of how they spend their time at “Game Creek.” It was a light hearted depiction of the strenuous work they do everyday and a touching look at the close family bonds fostered by life in tight quarters. I must confess…this place is alluring to me. Parts of it make much more sense than living in Hoonah. Here, these people have purpose; family, connection, life or death accountability to each other. The children have real life responsibilities…not a make-shift chore list of things that “should” be done for stars, prizes or hugs from Mommy. “Game Creek” provides authentic learning and living in its purest form. These people are educated, talented and God-fearing and their existence is an anomaly, but not one to be entirely overlooked. It is fascinating in theory, yet as I take all in…even if only for a night…it appears to be working beautifully. There is something about “The Farm” that makes me want to stay.
After gorging my self with “spicy” potatoes, sweet potatoes, and salad it was time to make my real contribution, I was to sing. Introduced by Donna , I approached the piano at the other side of the room…and with a full belly and bundle of nerves, I sang the Lord’s Prayer. I did my best and to my mother’s dismay, when I shared the story on the phone, “No, I did not bow,”….who bows after praying? Dave, the piano teacher, also plays the cello. He and Donna performed two lovely classic pieces. I love how live music embellishes an occasion. After they bowed, the call was made, “dessert time!” Andrew and I truly indulged; pecan pie, fudge-peanut butter cake, orange cinnamon rolls, brownies, lemon cookies. Our plates looked more decadent than a Harry and David dessert sampler…mmmmmmm heavenly.
After dessert, the folk musicians unlocked their cases releasing the vast array of stringed instruments. Arranging themselves in circle, the group picked, strummed and bowed for two and half hours…Grandpa popping in
every now and then, sucking and blowing on one of his seven harmonicas. Andrew danced and hopped around the big room with the other children. It was a vision of a ideal childhood memory; giggling boys and girls, red cheeks and uninhibited movements of joy. Sharing solos, lyrics and chord charts, the tight knit musicians played the gamut of their repertoire. Tables were cleared, dishes were done, and chairs were stacked neatly against the wall. With conversations winding down, I had a chance to visit with Rebecca, a bright-eyed, eighteen year old girl that has grown up on “The Farm.” Transitioning from explaining her online writing class to me, she proceeded to go into great detail about her novel that she started when she was twelve and is still working on today. It is a historical, fiction piece that involves the Romans, Vikings and Wales and tells of a very complicated and brave heroine. Rebecca is almost done with “high school” and plans to go to nursing school in the fall. She was so refreshing to talk to…she, like many women, struggle with choosing a career and the desire to have a family. She too wants it all, and is willing to do the work to make her goals a reality. It seems as if “Game Creek” has served her well.We said our sleepy-eyed goodbyes and started the hike back to our cars, sporting head lamps and carrying flash lights. Stephanie reassured us that are no recorded bear attacks for groups of three or more…we numbered five. Even without the reassurance, I felt safe. The dark drape of the Alaskan wilderness around me was deeply comforting. The visions of shadow and moon light made my eyes dance and the crisp kneading of Earth beneath my boots grounded me in the eternal. The refined, cool air was like sweet syrup in my lungs. The hush of the night gently soothed my ears. This was truly a thanksgiving dinner…a gift of warmth, joy and hospitality, a place without pretense or ambiguity, a people of kindness and a nature of peace. Again, I am humbled and grateful for my experiences and thank God for the awareness to appreciate the rich gifts that are before me.
Home of the Brave
Andrew awoke the morning of the 11th and dressed himself in full camouflage…this wasn’t a Halloween re-run, this was an important day and he wanted to look his best; from hat, to belt, to pants to shirt, even his boxers carried a camo design. He had won a camouflage dog tag necklace at the Carnival that went over his head as the final accessory. Mrs. Bidiman had asked Andrew to prepare a few words about Veterans Day for today’s assembly. This was request was prompted by Andrew’s consistent interest in checking out library books focused on the armed forces. He prepared a small speech at school and was given overnight homework to practice. Practice he did, numerous times and we refined the process by me standing in the bathroom and he standing in the bedroom. His job was to make sure I could understand every word he said. This was an ideal method
to get him to project his voice, slow down his pace and articulate his words.
They had asked me to sing the National Anthem. I arrived early dressed in my patriotic best….the red suit. I briefly tested out the acoustics; no microphone would be needed and I strategically placed my pitch finder (Andrew’s xylophone) on the podium shelf. Then, I appointed myself the official greeter and program passer-outer. It was a joy to personally meet and talk with the handful of Veterans that joined us.
Andrew walked in the opening procession of the Boys Scouts Color Guard. Once the flag was in place, we all said the Pledge of Allegiance…in English and in Tlinit. Next on the program was the Star Spangled Banner. I filled the gymnasium with the glorious melody and message of our country’s humble beginnings. I adore that song. Kindergarteners through Second grader donning red, white and blue hand painted hats, stood and cherubically sang “America the Beautiful.” It was now time for Mrs. Bidiman’s class to present their writings. Andrew, along with three other class mates took turns at the podium. He did an awesome job! His voice was confident, clear and intelligible. He spoke of Grandpa playing the trumpet in the Army band during WW II, how the President places a wreath at Arlington cemetery on this day and the symbolism of t
aking a moment of silence to remember those who served. I know I am a proud mama, but he was the only one, aside for the guest speaker that the audience could understand.
The guest speaker was Rich Jennings from the Forest Service. He served in the Air Force for five years. This is the same gentleman that is working with Steve on the renewable energy project. He did a nice job giving an age-appropriate presentation. It was simply spoken, interactive, informative and emphasized the ideal that, the those in the armed forces don’t glorify war or fighting, but believe the best way to avoid war is a good defense. After his talk, Bob Hutton, the music teacher, play director and guy who took Steve and Andrew Halibut fishing, played Taps on his trombone. The rich sound resonated throughout the gym. It was a touching and emotional end to the program honoring these brave Veterans.
The Colors were retired, the students filed into the cafeteria and the gentleman, with their wives were invited to have lunch with the children. I stayed to lunch with Andrew, munching on Indian Tacos, carrot sticks and chugging chocolate milk…somehow trying to make the meaningful events of the morning last a little bit longer.
to get him to project his voice, slow down his pace and articulate his words.They had asked me to sing the National Anthem. I arrived early dressed in my patriotic best….the red suit. I briefly tested out the acoustics; no microphone would be needed and I strategically placed my pitch finder (Andrew’s xylophone) on the podium shelf. Then, I appointed myself the official greeter and program passer-outer. It was a joy to personally meet and talk with the handful of Veterans that joined us.
Andrew walked in the opening procession of the Boys Scouts Color Guard. Once the flag was in place, we all said the Pledge of Allegiance…in English and in Tlinit. Next on the program was the Star Spangled Banner. I filled the gymnasium with the glorious melody and message of our country’s humble beginnings. I adore that song. Kindergarteners through Second grader donning red, white and blue hand painted hats, stood and cherubically sang “America the Beautiful.” It was now time for Mrs. Bidiman’s class to present their writings. Andrew, along with three other class mates took turns at the podium. He did an awesome job! His voice was confident, clear and intelligible. He spoke of Grandpa playing the trumpet in the Army band during WW II, how the President places a wreath at Arlington cemetery on this day and the symbolism of t
aking a moment of silence to remember those who served. I know I am a proud mama, but he was the only one, aside for the guest speaker that the audience could understand.The guest speaker was Rich Jennings from the Forest Service. He served in the Air Force for five years. This is the same gentleman that is working with Steve on the renewable energy project. He did a nice job giving an age-appropriate presentation. It was simply spoken, interactive, informative and emphasized the ideal that, the those in the armed forces don’t glorify war or fighting, but believe the best way to avoid war is a good defense. After his talk, Bob Hutton, the music teacher, play director and guy who took Steve and Andrew Halibut fishing, played Taps on his trombone. The rich sound resonated throughout the gym. It was a touching and emotional end to the program honoring these brave Veterans.
The Colors were retired, the students filed into the cafeteria and the gentleman, with their wives were invited to have lunch with the children. I stayed to lunch with Andrew, munching on Indian Tacos, carrot sticks and chugging chocolate milk…somehow trying to make the meaningful events of the morning last a little bit longer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)