The measure of a life

Teaching me to tie a tie. 1983

So. I lost my step-dad last Friday.

People who don't know me or our family well assume that means that my mom's husband, who was not my father, died and that while I'm sad, it's not--as someone said to me--my father that died.

No. It's not. It's far, far worse.

I know this, because 11 years ago my father, the man who was biologically responsible for my life, and with whom we lived for the first 16 years of that life, did die. And it was hard. It was hard for me to have to give up months of my life caring for someone who had hurt me--and my precious mother-- badly, repeatedly. It was hard for me to care about his eternal well-being, and the fact that that was was hard hurt me, too. But, I wasn't sad that he was gone. I was, to tell the truth, relieved. He could do nothing else to hurt me. He couldn't hurt my children, my brother, my nieces, or my cousins.

But this. This is a searing pain.

John Ronald Harris came into our lives sometime around my 18th birthday, give or take a few months. He was good to my mother and made her happy. He was nice to me and to my friends. As the months, and then years went by he became part of the fabric of our lives. He gave advice, whether I wanted it or not. He teased, but without the cruelty that I was used to.

There was no struggle for me to accept him in our lives. He had that relatively easy, because we all were love-starved. It took me longer to really trust him, but that did come after a few years. As I struggled through my early college years, he was there, supportive for my mother and I both, and treating me as though I was his child, even--when I was having problems--upset about someone messing with "one of his kids."

So when he and mom got married, just less than a year after Colin and I did, I was delighted. I was happy for my mom. I was happy for us. (At that point I didn't know his kids well, but they seemed nice enough.)

That was over 28 years ago. In those 28 years, he paid for the college education that my father was supposed to have helped with. He watched my three year old daughter when she had the chicken pox, so that I wouldn't miss class. He put up with having the kids and me in his house for weeks at a time during various moves. He gave advice, whether I wanted it or not.

And we all grew to love him. Tremendously.

He was generous. One of the most generous people I have ever known. We enjoyed wonderful vacations with my step-siblings that we could never have afforded if he hadn't helped to offset everyone's costs. He gave low interest loans for home down-payments. He was always helping someone out. Many years ago, he and my mom requested that in lieu of Christmas gifts for them we make charitable donations. That is how he was.

And with him we got a, big wonderful family. I got to know his mother well enough that I mourned her passing. I got older brothers and two sisters, and over the years they have brought a richness of in-laws and nephews. We got Godsons and all kinds of other interesting family connections. Most of all, we got a whole bunch of people to love. Brad, Susan, Curt and Brenda shared their father with us unstintingly, and for that I am forever grateful.

Most of the family at Patrick & Emma's wedding, May 30, 2015.

To my children, he was "Grandpa Ron" when they were little, changing to "Grandfather Dear" as they got older. It was an incredibly special relationship, and he always treated my children and my brother's girls exactly the same as he did his grandchildren-by-blood. One of the wonderful gifts God has given us in these last months was to have Wicked (explanation here) present at two of my sons' weddings in May.

Over the last several years he showed us all a wonderful example of courage and faith. As his body got weaker, he kept fighting, and kept living. Instead of getting crabby and bitter, as people so often do when they are wracked with pain and know that death is nearing, he got sweeter and more concerned about all of us. He was sure in his faith, and knew his eternal destination, as did all of us.

I will miss his presence. His bad jokes. The hard time he gave me when I would call on the phone. His many, many emails. And all of the advice, whether I wanted it or not.

I am thankful for the memories. I am thankful for all that he did for my mom, my brother, and for me. I am thankful that my kids had such an awesome grandpa, and that my husband had a father-in-law he could love and respect. I am thankful that he leaves our whole big, wonderful family with so many memories to cherish, that will bring much laughter--and some tears--in the years to come.


The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
So hard to earn so easily burned
In the fullness of time,
A garden to nurture and protect
(It's a measure of a life)

The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect,
The way you live, the gifts that you give
In the fullness of time,
It's the only return that you expect
The future disappears into memory
With only a moment between.
Forever dwells in that moment,
Hope is what remains to be seen.
The Garden-RUSH

Caught by surprise

So, last month this happened.

And this happened.

Those are my first and second sons, with their brides.

In the space of less than a month we went from a household of five on the weekends and four during the week (with a friend of the family often upping that to five) to a household of three on the weekends and two during the week.

Just four years ago we were a full-time family of six.

I am discovering some unexpected consequences.

Saturday I cooked one pound of spaghetti and one pound of ground chuck with sauce. We had leftovers. (Two pounds of pasta was long the standard around here.)

Even after I cut up five or six of the rattiest towels, all of my bath towels do not fit on their shelf in the linen closet. Fewer people equals fewer showers equals fewer towels hanging or in the laundry at any given time.

We don't have room for all of the glasses in the cupboard when they're all clean. See towels, above.

I was a mother of four-at-home--and my husband was mostly around--for over 15 years. I have lived with my three teen and young adult sons during the weeks, adding my husband on the weekends, for the last four years. I don't know how to cook for two or three people. I don't know how to manage a small household. The last time we were a household of three was almost 25 years ago.

This is going to take some getting used to.

Family and thankfulness

 I have a pretty big, pretty crazy family.

For the first 22 years of my life, I only had one brother.

Little brother Todd, with mom.

Then my mother remarried and I suddenly gained two step-sisters and two step-brothers. And with them over the years have come their spouses, children, childrens' spouses, spouses' children, grandchildren, spouses' grandchildren. . . .  It has made the very small family that I grew up in into a big, happy, rather chaotic and noisy thing.

Of course, really the family I grew up in wasn't that small. I had grandparents, lots of aunts and uncles, and cousins that increased in number as I got older. And, happily for me, although we have sustained some losses, most of the family remains.

At my cousin Liz's wedding

Then there is the family that I married into. They have been my family, too, for almost 30 years.

Part of the Casey family

And what I am finding it that as our family grows, my definition of family expands, too. Technically, I suppose Bethany's sister-in-law and niece aren't my family, but it sure feels like they are. And although in our culture the parents of the women that my sons are preparing to marry would not be considered family, I think we'll claim them.

And then there are the wonderful friends, who feel like family.

So today, the day after the appointed day of thanksgiving, I am extremely thankful, as I try to always be, for God's good gift of family.

Krissy, Lori, Jacqui, & Beth

Don't mind me

I'm working on a project and need to get these photos onto Pinterest. The quickest way is to put them here.

Big happenings

I haven't posted for a while, but not because nothing has been happening. Quite the contrary, the last five months have been quite eventful.

My middle son became engaged to a fine young woman, whose family we have known for over ten years. And there was much rejoicing.

I had a long visit from the daughter and grandkids, and then spent over a week with them in Tucson.

The baby son started college.

And on that very same day, my husband had a heart attack. It could have been really, really bad, but thanks to fast action by him and by the doctors who cared for him, he is doing very well.

Most recently, my oldest son became engaged to a fine young woman, whose family we have known for over ten years. (She is, literally, the girl next door.) There was, again, much rejoicing.

I spent my summer having fun. I enjoyed my family, my friends, and my pool. We had almost constant house guests.  But in the back of my mind the whole time was the nagging thought, "Fall is coming. What are you going to be doing?" No more kids to homeschool or drive from one place to another. So I decided that it was time to move forward with a business that I had been researching and thinking about for six or seven years.

I started taking some steps. I researched the availability of my chosen business name, reserved it with the Secretary of State, and purchased a couple of domain names. I started talking about a website and making lots of lists. I was planning to launch my business in early October, but I decided while I was in Tucson to put it off by about a month so that I could try to get my house and life under control after our busy summer.

Then the heart attack.

I didn't realize until last week how badly that messed with my head. It really sent me into a tailspin. I decided that there was just NO WAY that I could start a business. Messy house. Medical bills. Too much to do. I spent most of two months cleaning, cooking, and doing laundry. I have never in my life spent so much time in my house or in my kitchen. And at the end of two months, I'm not much beyond where I started. It's still in worse shape than it's ever been. I've been trying to convince myself that by staying home I can keep a nicer house and economize in lots of little ways.

Except for one problem: That's not me.

I have always thrived when I am busy. Really busy. With lots of places to go and people to talk to. My house stays cleaner when I have two hours a week to clean it than when I have twenty. (Plus, if I make enough money, I can pay someone else to do it and then two of us will be happy!)

And yes, there are medical bills. And tuition. And rent and a mortgage and car repairs. And, oh, by the way, two weddings next summer. So, maybe I should think about making some money.

All of the sudden last week, I came out of the fog that I had been walking around in. I knew that it was time to get busy and move forward with my business. We need the money. I need the outlet. Our current financial situation is making the start-up very much of a shoe-string endeavor. I am spending money on nothing that isn't absolutely vital to starting and running the business.

My biggest still-extant issues are getting a website up and running and securing insurance.Both have to happen before I can start earning, so they are a priority.

But you all wanted to know what I am going to be doing, right? I am starting a personal and business concierge service, Boulevard Concierge Services, LLC. I will be providing services like errand running, personal shopping, relocation/moving assistance, and event planning, just to name a few. I plan to focus marketing at first to real estate agents, families of senior citizens, and busy professionals. I will do anything that someone wants to pay me to do that is not illegal, unethical, or immoral.

And I am really excited about it. I have SO MANY ideas about services that I could provide. And concierge is not just a service for the wealthy. In fact, I think that my main customer base will be middle to upper middle class women with families, for whom an hour of extra time is a very valuable thing. You hate shopping? I love it and am good at it, and I'll do it for you. You can't leave work to wait for Dish Network for four hours? I'll wait. And while I'm there I'll make homemade mac and cheese and address your Christmas cards. Need a Christmas present for Grandma who doesn't need another scarf or any more chocolates? How about a couple of hours of errand running or of organizing all that stuff that needs to go to Goodwill?

Basically, I am going to get paid for helping people, which, when it comes right down to it, is one of my favorite things to do.

I think that I am going to enjoy the networking and marketing almost as much as the work. And I know it will be a lot of work. And that it won't all be fun. And I know that the money crunch won't ease immediately. But I believe it will ease, because I know that I am going to be successful with this business. I am going to make my customers wonder how they ever lived without me.

New day

This morning has a strangely first-day-of-school, New-Year's-Day feel for me.

All of my kids have graduated from high school. Yes, this is normal and expected, but when you've homeschooled for 18 years, it's a big mental adjustment. I've just lost a big chunk of my identity. Of course, I've known this was coming and have been mentally preparing for a long time. And although the boys still live here, they need very little from me.

I've thought about taking on a second job. I considered just finding a full-time job, but I think that  leaving my job at church would probably be the change that would tip me over the edge. And in the end, no job that I would find would allow me the flexibility to run off and be grandma whenever I want.

So I've made a few decisions.

I'm going to spend some time during the rest of this year catching up with friends and family that I just haven't had much chance to connect with over the last several very busy years.

I'm going to get back to consistently walking, taking my vitamins, and eating better; all things that have gone by the wayside as I've dealt with my eye issue, the back pain from the accident last fall, and the stress that has been almost eating me up.

I am reviving my business, which has been languishing for about ten years. It's been sitting there waiting for me to be ready again.. More about that later.

I'm going to spend some time enjoying my sons while they are still here.

And I am going to soak up every bit of sun, pool time, fresh produce, etc., that summer has to give.

Still adjusting

I love to entertain. I love to have a couple of friends over for a glass of wine, several couples for a nice dinner, whole families for a weekend, or big shindigs for whatever occasion I can drum up.

I'm not Martha Stewart. All those cool party ideas on Pinterest are merely aspirational for me. When we invite friends over to hang out at the pool or the fire pit we throw together a plate of cheese and crackers or bowls of chips and salsa and a roll out a cooler full of beer. Even my big parties aren't much on decor or presentation.

But I enjoy them. Colin enjoys them. Our friends must enjoy them, unless they just feel compelled to show up out of politeness. We always have tasty food and plenty of it. And although it's work, it's also--in a weird way--kind of effortless.

Except for this time.

We have a graduation party this weekend. This is our fourth and final graduation party. Our oldest son has graduated from college. Our youngest son has finished his homeschool studies. And their cousin has also graduated from high school. It's outside-party season, which is my favorite.

This should be a breeze.

But it just isn't clicking. I've flip-flopped on my menu 87,000 times. I can't seem to get my mind wrapped around what needs to be accomplished. And then, suddenly, this weekend, I figured out what my problem is.

I don't have my Beppy.

This is the first major party that I've thrown without the help and input of my daughter. I try to bounce menu ideas off of my sons, and they stare blankly. I think about favorites that I would like to make, but realize that I can't do that much last minute prep alone. I dread Saturday morning with a crew of three--very helpful--males for last-minute party prep, and not another female in sight. (Because, you know, there are some things that we just KNOW need to be done.) She has been my right hand in  party-throwing since the first birthday party that we had for one of her brothers, probably around 1995.

 I may never manage to serve olive cheese balls again. It's another in a long string of adjustments to  my oldest child/only daughter/cooking-shopping-scrapping buddy abandoning me growing up and having a life of her own.

Oh, I'll survive. The party is slowly coming together, but things won't be quite as good as they would have been. No one else may even notice. (Please God!) But I'll know.

Times to remember

So, for the last 11 days I've been in Tucson. This is a new adventure for me.

I'm in Tucson because my beautiful daughter lives here now--thank goodness not permanently--and she is having a bit of a busy time, having given birth to our first grandson, John Ronald, a couple of days after I arrived.

My main occupation, joyfully so, has been chasing after, feeding, playing with, bathing, etc., my 20 month old granddaughter Helen. Between this activity and spending lots of time with my daughter, this has been the best two weeks I have had in a very long time. Sure, I miss home. But I have spent most of the last two and a half years missing my daughter, and, after this visit, I am sure I will be missing my granddaughter nearly as much!

Today we were out running a few errands and had one of those moments that make you think, "This. I want to remember this feeling." We were driving north toward the Catalina foothills on a slightly windy, pretty road. We had the windows down, enjoying the breeze of the sunny, mid-70s afternoon. We had our Starbucks drinks and Helen was enjoying a bit of a cheese danish and the feel of the wind. And we were all rocking to "Sweet Child o' Mine," with Bethany and I both singing out loud.

Yep. Happy.

It reminded me that even if we're apart most of the time, we're still us. When we're together, we still laugh, sometimes until we cry. We have all of the memories from the 25 years that we lived under the same roof. And now we have Helen to share them with.

Plannin' some meals

You would think that with two sons in college and working and with one son who is, for all practical purposes, finished homeschooling and is also working , I would be feeling like life is getting less complicated.

Ummmmm. No.

It will help when we have another car. We've been down one since that unfortunate event in the Menard's parking lot. (Can I just take a moment to say, "Sven, I miss you!") Jonathan, Andrew, and I share a car. Or rather, Jonathan and I share a car, and I chauffeur Andrew.

And then there's my job. Which I love. A lot. If I didn't, I would quit, because last year it cost us more in taxes than I made, so it's really more like a hobby. But, I will just think that I am really caught up--or even ahead--and then things happen. Like musicians.* Or Sundays unobserved in recent memory. And this always happens during holidays when I have extra stuff to do in the rest of my life.

And then there's my business that I am trying to resurrect. (I seem to lack the energy and ability to roll with the changes** that I used to have.)

So I am doing something that is going to shock those who know me well. I am going to simplify my life by planning our during-the-week meals. Starting after the holidays, Monday will be roast chicken and vegetables. Tuesday will be something with ground beef. Wednesday will be pasta or some take on mac & cheese. Thursday will be soup. Friday will be left-overs/fend-for-yourself night (since I'm usually the only one here.) On the weekends I will continue to cook what sounds good to the hubby.

I think that this plan will simplify my grocery shopping for the next couple of months. It will cut down on food waste. It will save money. The leftovers will be used. But it still leaves me room to make a dinner that will please my palate any given night.

* I LOVE MUSICIANS. I love it when they play their lovely music. But they tend to complicate my job. Not mentioning any particular names here.

**REO Speedwagon, where are you when I need you?

This could work on a Tuesday. Sweet potato shepherd's pie.

This is definitely what you call a first world problem

I know that some of you are going to think that I'm crazy, but this has been bugging me.

I want to go someplace that requires me to dress up. Really, really dress up.

We used to have some fancy holiday events to attend for Colin's job. At one time there were some fairly formal events for the Bach Collegium. But since Colin's job left town there are no more parties or events, and the Collegium events are far more ordinary than they used to be.

I dress nicely for church, concerts, the theater, and any other chance I get, but I want to get REALLY dressed up. Long skirt, sparkly jewelry, cute little clutch bag, the whole bit.

Maybe it's because really dressed up usually means we're going out and doing something fun. It's possible that my real desire is to go out and have fun with my husband. (And preferably some fun friends, too.)

But I still want an opportunity to get really dressed up.

My Anthropologie knock-off hat rack

Last year I saw this hook rack on Anthropologie's website.

I liked the idea, but I knew that my hubby could make me a rack for way less than $88.

We spent about $22 on wood and hooks, and used stain from several old cans in the garage. It turned out exactly as I hoped.

Since the men in this house are regular hat wearers, this is a really, really useful thing to have.

Thanks, honey!

The first decorations

 

My Gaudete tree.

Really, I just fell in love with this little tree when I saw it at Target, but what better time to put it up?!

What a reminder it will be to rejoice!

Feeling contrary

I don't know if there's anyone else who starts feeling a bit contrary around this time of year, or if it's just me, but all of the push to spend, spend, SPEND, makes me want to go make some homemade gifts and send off a check to World Vision or Heifer, International.

As anyone who knows me knows, I'm not averse to spending money. At all. I enjoy shopping. I like nice things. I love to buy gifts and often pick up little things that I think that the people I love will like here and there during the year. But, boy do I hate the constant inundation of ads in my email, my mailbox, and on my radio for DISCOUNTS!, LAST CHANCE!, BUY STUFF!

I can't imagine thinking that my buying RIGHT NOW is so important that I encourage retailers to open on national holidays, causing thousands of moms and dads, sons and daughters, to have to miss holiday time, often with family who have traveled far to be there.

I can't imagine believing that it is so vital that I get my hands on some discounted piece of made-in-China gadgetry that I will trample other people to get to it.

Or that it is so necessary that my child have a particular toy under the tree that I will engage in a hair-pulling fight to ensure its presence.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those, "The world has ruined Christmas" people. Sometime the second week in December or so, when the furor of bargain-grabbing has subsided, I will dress up and go to the mall. (I will, however,  leave town and go to a specific mall where I don't think I'll see anyone shopping in her pajamas, and where I often feel delightfully underdressed.) I will get my triple grande one-pump caramel brulee latte. I will wander in and out of festively decorated stores and pick up a few final gifts. I will enjoy the Christmas music.

I will decorate my house a little at a time, until the tree goes up in a couple of weeks. I'll break out my Christmas music. I'll bake cookies. And if someone wishes me "Happy Holidays" I certainly won't snarl at them.

The world can't ruin Christmas, because it isn't theirs to ruin. They can't even ruin Advent, which is the actual season of the world's "Christmas" frenzy. We can ruin it for ourselves and our loved ones by getting caught up in the pressure to do, be, and buy too much. I always find it anchoring to attend church during Advent. Not just on Sunday, but midweek, too. And if you are blessed, as I am, to be in a church where there are daily services, attending them can be a great antidote to the pre-Christmas stress that overindulgence of all sorts can bring. It's a good channel for my contrary feelings. It reminds us that this is a season of repentance, anticipation, and preparation.

Although a check to Heifer isn't a bad channel for contrarian impulses, either.

“Stir up Your power, O Lord, and come, that by your protection we may be rescued from the threatening perils of our sins and saved by your mighty deliverance.”
(Collect for the First Sunday in Advent.)

Thinking about color

I've been a bit obsessed recently with colors. My colors, to be more specific. My friend Polly started it, when she mentioned her Zyla colors. Of course, I had to know what she was talking about. She was talking about David Zyla and his book Color Your Style.

I dabbled in figuring out what season I am, many years ago. Most of the time I don't think a lot about the color of my clothes, as long as something isn't terrible, because I shop for fit. I end up wearing a lot of black, because it's available. But I was intrigued by what I could find out about Zyla on the internet.

So I ordered the book and read it. And then I made a couple of other people get it. And I have been spending an inordinate amount of time gazing into my own eyes. And at my veins. And at paint swatches. And Pinterest boards. I look at the palettes that Zyla has done in private consultations and I seriously think about spending money on such a thing.

I think that part of the reason this is so interesting is that, beyond color, Zyla delves into style and personality, by breaking each season into various "archetypes." I'm still working on figuring out what mine is. When I do, I'll share. He also tells you how to find various colors for yourself, using the aformentioned eyes and veins, as well as skin and hair.

So if you see me sitting in my car, staring into my own eyes, just know that I'm trying to figure out what color to paint my bedroom.

This sweater contains my "romantic" color. Too bad the style was bad!

Looking for suggestions again

Last year I asked for your must-read books. From your suggestions I crafted a reading challenge. A number of my friends joined me in this challenge, and I think it has been one of the more valuable challenges that I have done this year. I have thoroughly enjoyed the books that I have read for it and I intend to do it again next year.

Since I have several books in progress that I want to finish by the end of the year, and because I read one of my alternates, I know that one of my choices for this year will carry over to next year.

So again, I ask you, what books have you read that--for whatever reason--you would recommend highly. They can be serious or fun. Fiction, non-fiction, acclaimed or obscure. The only requirement is that you love them.

Please comment here and not on the Book of Face, so that I can keep track of your replies. Thanks in advance.

Reading troubles

I have a book blog, mostly to keep track of the various reading challenges that I engage in each year. I post the occasional review and sometimes progress reports and updates, but, in the main, it is my way of keeping track of what I am, or should be, reading.

I say "should be" because, for me, the challenges function as a curb. They, theoretically, keep me from reading too much fluff. They steer me toward some specific books, some higher quality literature, and more variety than I would likely consume if left completely unchecked.

Some years this works better than others. This year I am in a bit of trouble with my challenges, partially because I've been lazy, partially because I've had a couple of crazy busy times, partially because of my eye trouble, and partially because I have had lots of opportunity to peruse--and check out--the new books at the library.

Another problem is that I've had a couple of books that have really bogged me down. They've been slow going. I just decided that I've had enough of one of them. After half the book, I'm calling a halt. I won't count it for any of my totals, but I will check it off of the challenges that required this particular book, because I am DONE with it.

My sons don't understand it, but I really don't like Dostoyevsky. I didn't like Crime and Punishment. And I have now abandoned The Brothers Karamazov. In fact, I don't believe that I have as yet particularly enjoyed a book by a Russian. I can appreciate certain things about the book, but I don't enjoy it. I figure that I am old enough at this point to not spend any more time on a book that I am practically skimming to get through.

I am about 1/6 of the way through Middlemarch and am enjoying that, but for tonight I think I'm going to curl up with something completely different. Tam Lin and The Book of Three--both recommended and chosen for my "Friends" challenge--arrived last week from Amazon, so I think I'll choose one of those.

I may not do as well with some of my challenges this year as I thought I would. I hate not finishing them. But I also don't want to ruin one of the greatest pleasures in my life by turning it into too much of a chore.

Happy thing #30

This is my last promised happy thing. But it definitely isn't my last happy thing post. As I go through my days and weeks, I will be keeping my eyes open for the little things that make my life good, happy, enjoyable. . . .

It's fun to get compliments. And every single time that I wear this necklace I get compliments.
I don't have expensive jewelry. I am more than a little insecure about how I look. I am, and always have been, on the chubby side. I have had severe rosacea since I was 19. I have bad hair.

So, if I want to look good, I pay a lot of attention to my clothes and accessories. On a bad day, wearing this necklace is almost a sure pick me up. I love it, and it must look good, because even strangers comment on it. And I am just shallow enough that that makes me happy.

Happy things #29

My house. It has been, and continues to be a challenge. But I love it. It is more HOME than anyplace that I have ever lived. I love the creaky floors and the wonderful warm Beeswax color of the walls in my living room. I love the butler's pantry, the front porch, the brick, the linen press, and all of the windows. I love my neighborhood.

There is still a lot to do, but we have made so much progress. And even on its worst days, my house makes me happy.

Happy things #28

I love scrapbooking. These are two of my favorite pages that I did this weekend. The first one is an absolutely simple, unadorned page of fantastic photos of some of my favorite people. The second is the opening page of my Patrick book, and I think it's perfect.

I got 40 pages scrapped this weekend. That makes me happy.

Happy things #27

Yes, I missed a day.

But that's because I was busy having a happy birthday.

 Look at that sunrise!

 If you want a clue about what the inside of my head looks like....

 I went for a lovely walk around the camp in the breezy fall weather.

A room full of scrapbookers.

I look forward to this weekend all year long. Knowing that it's coming makes me happy, being here makes me happy, and adding the work that I get done here to my books will make me happy.