Fun Evening Memories

Yesterday was a fun evening with Rachel. We didn't do anything particularly special. Just the usual every day tasks...grocery store, dinner preparations. But Rachel was in a particularly good mood. She chose me and a trip to the grocery store over spending time with Gram, which was unusual. She "helped" with the shopping and check-out, telling the girl what each item was as she handed it to her. If she wasn't sure what something was, she just said "and this, and this."
It was a little chilly outside, so we made chili for dinner, complete with the Jiffy cornbread- because that's what you make with chili. Since she couldn't help me with chopping onion or browning the hamburger, I put her to work on the cornbread. I measured the ingredients but she did all the mixing and pouring. She even poured the batter into the pan. I put them in the oven for her (much to her dismay) but while she may be able to steer the tractor, I'm not convinced she's ready for a 400 degree oven. We had music going while we worked and when she was done eating, she looked at me, angled her head just so, and ever so sweetly asked me "MomMom, you want to dance?" Well, how on earth do you say no to that? So we danced. We shimmied, we shaked, we twirled, and we spun. I only wish I had a camera to capture the look of pure joy on Rachel's face as we twirled in the kitchen. I was able to capture it with the camera in my mind and there it will stay forever for me to call up in the less than perfect moments of meltdowns, and in years to come when twirling in the kitchen will no longer be a request.
Thank you, Rach. MomMom loves to dance with you, bake with you, and do the dishes with you. It's ok now- but someday, you'll have to leave your shirt ON while washing dishes...

A Little Historical Research

This evening, I was asked to look through old newspaper articles looking for a particular person's name as part of some geneology research. Apparently, the person was too busy to look through the books of archived articles herself, and I have to say, she really missed out. There was some funny stuff written up in the paper in the 1850-1940s. Some of my favorite highlights include the B-25 bomber that had to land on a country road en route to IL from GA because they ran out of gas. I would not want to explain that scenario to the army supervisor. It seems that the FIRST step to the flight plan would have been to make sure the plane was stocked with enough fuel for the trip. The article went on to say that the state police did a "mighty fine job" directing traffic. Love it.

Several of the articles pertained to horrific accidents. One page told the story of two people who were burned in some sort of gas accident. One died and the other survived. The very next article told of the same unfortunate soul's demise when a pin came out of a jack and a car landed on his head...only it was in far more detail. Apparently, folks did not read the newspaper over their morning toast and coffee in the 1940's.

But my absolute favorite were the obituary's. One obit read "Her kind and cheerful disposition was always an inviting characteristic. As the rays of the morning sun drives the dewdrops from off the rose, so did her cheerfulness banish sorrow and gloom from her prescence...She shed forth such an influence as lasting as time and eternity, which will last when the sun ceases to shine, the moon is turned to blood, and all the nations of the earth gone hence." (1917) Wow. Nick and Rach, take note...I want mine to read to like that. There were several that were just as flowery and overflowing with kind words and phrases. Makes you wonder if these people were really that wonderful, or if that's just what you had to say when they died and if people read them later and thought that she was really the meanest person on the street...

This is how I spent my evening at the library. If I'm honest, I was kind of bummed when I was done because I had a good time reading through those old articles and getting a feel for the viewpoint from "life back then."

What will my great- and great-great-grandbabies think about our newstories? Only time will tell.

Seriously...Rachel...make sure MomMom's obit says that her cheerfulness will banish gloom and sorrow from her presence... and no laughing while you write it either!

Springtime on the Farm

Rachel loves to pick all the beautiful flowers...whether they are daffodils, henbit, or dandelions, she picks them all.

Nick raked the straw off the berries a couple weeks ago.

His timing was perfect...now we can work on the weeds before the berry pickers arrive.

Today, Rachel helped Nick chisel plow a couple strips in the former berry patch for whatever we decide to grow there this summer. She watches everything he does...mimics him pretty well.

Bring Daddy beautiful flowers while he took straw off the berries.

Freshly plowed garden and an open gate make for some very happy chickens!

Nick and Rachel worked together to put up a fence for the pullets. The fence is temporary until they get the hang of going in and out of their pen...then they can roam with all the others. This one wasn't too sure she was ready to explore. She went back in...

This one, however, was really enjoying her new space and even came over to check out the camera. I think I'll call her Mildred. Doesn't she look like a Mildred?

Why, yes. Nick lets our 34-month old daughter drive... Daddy runs the pedals and she steers.

YAY for grilling weather! Pepper would like her burger medium-well....with cheese, please.





Happy Birthday to my Ma!

Happy Birthday, Ma! Hope your next trip around the sun is out of this world!!

(I KNEW this picture could be used for something!)

OH!! My NOSE!!

Watching a little Elmo this morning...with her tissue box.

A picture is worth 1000 words. This one pretty well sums up our week here at the Held House. Have you ever seen anything more pitiful? Rachel came down with a bad cold Monday night. Nancy and I both had it by Wednesday morning. Rachel definitely takes after her MomMom in the cold management tactics. She does NOT like a runny nose. Wiping is preferred to blowing. Two tissues are better than one, three are better than two. Soft ones, please! And give her a wide berth when she is both tired and sick... it's not pretty. Whenever the slightest hint of anything might be running from her nose, she exclaims "OH! MY NOSE! MY NOSE!!" I'm looking forward to when she's old enough for nasal spray.

So far, the Held men have managed to escape the germs of the Held women. Here's hoping that next week will involve a lot less than 7 boxes of Puff's.