My dad is 73 today. And I got to spend the whole day with him. He is as strong and beautiful as ever. And pretty ornery, too.
A. Ross Moslander, two daughters and a wife
Category Archives: 3 Celebrations & Festive Events
Fancy carved-wood frame from glue and paper towels
Frame for a wedding photo booth. A DIY!
That is me looking through it, there on the left. The “fancy carved wood” which isn’t carved wood nor really too fancy.
The M-O-B and the M-O-G (mother-of-the-bride and the mother-of-the-groom, Tammy and me)
I needed a good-sized, ornate-ish frame for the old-fashioned-family photo booth and just didn’t have time to go shopping for one. So one afternoon when Hunter came over. We decided to make our own.
I grabbed a large, wooden frame from the garage that had seen better days and had already been sprayed white for a previous event. First we hot-glued some gimp around the inside trim. The idea is to add texture!
Then we glued lace scraps from the fabric scraps box to the main surfaces of the frame using a white-glue and water mixture (2 parts glue to one part water). Imagine it as a decoupage-type project. The pieces were random and that is fine.
With our glue mixture, we tore strips of paper towels, twisted them, dipped them in the glue and rolled them into “leaves” and rosettes. We put them aside to dry on some wax paper.
When the lace on the main part of the frame had dried, we took the hot glue gun and just made curly-qs, some loops and swirls all the way around the frame. The combination of this 3-d texture on top of the lace is going to create the idea of an old-fashioned, carved-wood frame.
Once everything was pretty dry, we hot-glued the rosettes and leaves to the corners of the frame and then took it outside to spray paint it.
We sprayed it silver. On grandpa’s utilitarian-garage-side…which was good because we got a little out of control. But it could have been brown or white or whatever color…and may still end up that way!
After a few minutes of airing it out and letting it dry, we brought the frame back inside and then made a purple “glaze” by just watering down some paint. We used paint brushes and paper towels to put the glaze onto the frame and get it into the crevices and then sort of wipe of the excess. This also makes it have a more textured, carved look. It creates shadow and makes the various materials look like one aged piece.
A couple of hours later, voila! We had a faux, carved-wood frame for the photo booth.
That is it the “open” frame on left. This is Ryan and Tredessa “trying out” the photo booth a few days before the wedding when we were at the barn decorating. When I was finished, I realized that I really could have accomplished the same effect with a much larger “frame” by using a piece of foam core or cardboard cut into a frame shape. Just a little FYI on the DIY!
They placed actual photos of grandparents and great-grandparents because they wanted to include their heritage in their celebrating.
Some of my fav wedding-photobooth shots~
Niece, Elise posed in honor of her lover-husband who could not attend.
Dana and Jason hammed it up for quite a few good shots!
Two of my grandbebes, confetti girls Gemma and Averi with Ryan’s little flag-boy, Cody. CUTE!
Picture-perfect!
A Magical Day, part four
The Ceremony
Rocky, Dave and Tristan (the brothers) provided some pretty cool music and worship before the procession.
Before the walk down the aisle, the girls gathered to pray for the bride and Ryan’s guys prayed with him.
One of the things we love about Ryan is his easy laugh. He crinkles his whole face and just totally laughs.
When everything got started, {the brothers} kicked off the wedding, which was wonderful. DP told some marriage jokes and Rocky told how he’d always wanted brothers and now he has 3, and Tristan said “ditto” to some one else’s blessing (he is a man of few words) and then they “threatened” Ryan (playfully, of course), followed by praying over Ryan. It was a wedding with great entertainment and family love, too!
~~~
The Procession & ceremony in one minute:
Dave officiated. And he was super hilarious. Tredessa and Ryan were so happy and lighthearted.
Instead of having the attendants lined up on either side, we seated them casually on either side, mixing up Ryan’s guys with Dessa’s gals and splitting the kiddies up. It looked pretty cute.
They wrote beautiful vows to each other.I’m not saying Tredessa is like her mother or anything, but her words probably outnumbered his 2:1…but they both said beautiful things, promising not to divorce and to love carefully. Lovely.
The whole ceremony was joyous.
The kiss. Although this may have been the second or third kiss. Then there was hugging.
They are married!!
Tredessa and her sisters
Tredessa’s Grandma and Grandpa Moslander surprised her on her wedding day.
Time to go celebrate their marriage with family.
Photos: Chronos Images (Matthew Greenlee and Rachel Ruge) and Lilac Photography (Eldeen Pickett)
A Magical Day, part three
Ok, so where were we? It was a magical day, sunny and bright and joyous. It was family and….
It is the wedding day. The THINGS are in place:
A casual, vintage scene has been set. Welcoming!
On the right, you can see the jars hanging from the tree with subtle (and non-fire-hazard) illumination.
This pretty little sign was painted by Mairin Bierer. It hung across the aisle before the bride and her attendants came to walk it. We were all family.
Meanwhile, back at the barn…
The centerpieces included old books from the bride, French labels with romantic quotes and song lyrics, milk-glass containers, candles, dusty-green sprays…
And here is what the bride and groom and their people are up to…
A Magical Day, part two
First the bride’s sisters and her mother met weekly to put together a fabulous wedding shower for her.
As soon as that was over, we met weekly to create and glue and make and dream and talk and laugh and plan and gather supplies and create timelines. It was a very DIY vintage-y wedding, for sure.
It is hard to recall who exactly saw which idea first but along the way we had giant paper flowers, and old frames with lace. Tredessa brought a big stack of old lace curtains over and we created “lace balls” by using a glue mixture on the lace and forming it around balloons. When it was dry, we popped the balloon and voila: a lace balloon ball to hang from the ceiling.
UPDATE: tutorial for making lace lights. They used kids balls, but essentially the same. http://www.houzz.com/ideabooks/12095885/list?utm_source=Houzz&utm_campaign=u292&utm_medium=email&utm_content=gallery19
Tredessa really liked the idea of a barn for a wedding and in short order her old roommate introduced us to a family who’d built a small barn on their 17 acres. They used the downstairs of the barn for the owner’s hobby of hand-carving wooden carousel animals (which are amazing!) and the upstairs for family celebrations. It was perfect!
We realized that to have a wedding ceremony, a celebration dinner, and photobooth and a dance floor all in one spot would be a tight, tight fit. So Dessa decided to pray about finding a nice, small church for the ceremony and the next thing you know, New Horizons Christian Fellowship opened right up for us. It was so cool, right across the interstate from the barn!
Here are some of Ellie’s photos {www.lilacphotography.com} showing the “things” of the wedding
We used things we have, antiques and vintage items to decorate at the wedding. This old typewriter was at the guest table.
I have to say I have some talented kids. Stormie designed and printed the super-cool wedding programs with the full love story on them.
Jovan created the flower mobile that hung over the guest table.
The wedding party on a framed poster. Jar candles on a rustic candleabra for ambiance.
A felled branch was wrapped in white satin ribbon and candles in jars, along with lots of glass and heavy crystals embellished the “tree” we created. The whole backdrop was draped in cottons and canvases creating a living room atmosphere.
The sidewalk to the church was lined in the trademark-Rhoades-family luminarias. We used framed lace at both the church and the barn for the dinner celebration.
The gift area was comfy and merchandised with antiques. Mercury-glass love birds on an old window from Tredessa’s grade school, touches of home.
Left, Tristan playing at the wedding. Right, Tredessa and Ryan scattered photos of great-grandparents around the reception, witnesses to long love, a nod to their heritage.
An old brass and crystal chandelier got a coat of white paint for the wedding. It hung right over the bride and groom during dinner.
Here is a look at things we made and the progression of the wedding as we were getting it set up.
A Magical Day, part one
Chronos Images* Tredessa at the barn a couple of hours before the ceremony.
11.26.11
Things I forgot {or just didn’t count on}
- Paper doilies to line the sweets table plate. Well, they were there…just didn’t get unpacked.
- The Rolo-Pretzel Turtles. Sadly they missed the celebration. So they caused their own celebration of sorts in the ensuing days. Delish, Stormie and Elise!
- The Mini-cinnamon Rolls on sticks and the Espresso meringues. They were my last two things to make/bake…and I just had to let them go. And somehow the wedding was positively fine without them.
- To sew my stole. It needed repair work badly. I bet some one would have done it for me if I had asked. But I just wore it anyway. Who the heck am I becoming??!
- To get a manicure. Just no time for it.
- We forgot to have anyone run out and ring the church tower bell as Tredessa and Ryan left the church to waving flags and cheers. Because we were all just celebrating and smiling too much!
Tredessa and Ryan having fun in the photobooth. Tredessa with her matron-of-honor, big sister (by 1 year and 3 weeks), Stephanie
- Succulents are way heavier than flowers and needed more support. Lots more support. And I could have made them 2 months in advance, but didn’t…until the morning of the wedding.
- On at least 7 occasions I said to myself, “It would be advisable to have moist towelettes at the caramel fountain.” To all who had to lick their fingers, my deepest apologies.
- I knew, I just knew I packed the wedding-white stir sticks for the hot tea table. They were discovered in the tote, while we were packing up…two days later. I knew it.
- I had this beautiful design to paint at the front of the aisle runner (I had already painted a subway-style “advice” piece at the entry-end) and I just couldn’t get to it. There came a time the week before when I just had to let that idea go and know it would be ok, anyway.
- Then, there was the balloon fiasco. Oh, my. The groomsmen inflated about 150 balloons the day before the wedding and they went up into the bell tower of the barn for a release just before Tredessa and Ryan would leave the reception. No one counted on the exceptionally frigid temperatures (to below freezing) during the night, which deflated and shriveled a good number of the balloons. When the pulley doors were let down, about 50% of the balloons were just little white wads of who-knew-what and the other balloons were pretty sad looking, too. The photographers kind of got their expressions and it is funny now.
Things I will never forget
Tredessa was radiant. Beaming, even.
After her engagement, she wrote a wedding plan. Most brides decide on definitive colors and places and and details concerning things. And Tredessa had thoughts on that, but her main wedding plan was about it being fun and family and intimate and closeness and relaxation and rejoicing. She wanted everyone who came to feel peace. She wanted everyone to have a romantic night of dancing and celebration. Her plan came together!
Seeing Guini tapping and twirling, dancing with abandoned glee with her daddy, turns and twists and getting-dipped. She looked beautiful. She felt beautiful. She was free and full of joy. One of the favorite moving-picture memories I now carry in my heart.
I had this magnificent bridal bouquet in mind and it did not turn out that way at all, which was stressing me out the night before. I dreamed of it when I barely slept. But in the morning, I remembered that Tredessa wasn’t all “flowery” anyway. I disassembled everything I had begun the night before, left 75% of it on the counter, put in the 6 white roses, the spray of naked-lady lilies, the small bunches of white spider mums and lots of vintage buttons and a couple of brooches and the succulents I had grown just for the occasion. I hand tied the smaller, very specifically-structured bouquet and wrapped it in satin ribbon overlaid with chiffon to match her dress. And in the 5 minutes it took to assemble after all the worry, it looked like a reflection of her ring – a perfectly lovely, vintage-y, love-with-a-history bouquet. And I knew it was perfectly right for the slender, beautiful hands that would carry it.
Delicious food made by loving, generous hands of a good friend. Vintage-y. DIY. A barn wedding. Using old family photos, chandeliers, creating a “living room” experience for the church-front. These were bits and parts of the the most beautiful wedding in 2011!
Dave barely even sniffled during the ceremony. Shocking! He is tender-hearted towards his kids. He was engaging, effusive and funny, even. Everyone loved the ceremony.
Three days with our familia from Florida. Ryan’s brothers and their fams and his parents and grandparents and uncle…We gathered in tight for traditional Thanksgiving on Thursday, had rehearsal and dinner on Friday and danced together on Saturday. We loved them all and just melted together. Familia!
Ryan’s mom (my new “sister” from Florida) told me, just before Ryan walked us to our seats, “You are beaming.” And I knew I was. I could feel the glow, so proud of my daughter and so pleased with her choice.
Ryan’s vows to my daughter were beautiful. Hers to him nearly knocked breath from me, so full of promise and depth and wisdom from observation. I was unprepared for the tears that bursted forth.
The church was very small,. We draped everything is fabric, off-white cottons and canvases, and used lace-filled frames and big paper flowers strewn about as a backdrop.
THIS is one of my FAVORITE photos from the celebration because
First dance: “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”
*Chronos Images //photography (Matthew Greenlee and Rachel Ruge)
At Last
Let Me Hold You Longer, Karen Kingsbury
Stephanie Morgan brought me a book by that title yesterday at Starbucks. The premise of the book, the author explained, is that in life, we record and particularly note and celebrate all sorts of firsts. There is a baby’s first tooth, first steps, first day of school – all beautiful milestones that deserve our attention! Yet, we are unaware of the things that pass, last things. She explained it by recalling a beautiful day outdoors with her kids when one of the little guys ran up, jumped into her arms, wrapped his legs around her waist and while touching noses told her, “I love you, mommy.” She noticed how big he was getting and how heavy he was, realizing he probably wouldn’t be doing that too much longer. Then she looked across the lawn and saw her oldest son who was about to enter middle school and realized that he used to run and jump into her arms the same way and that at some point it had been the last time.
And the thing about last times is, you usually just don’t know they are happening, and if you did, you might want to take closer note.
Of course, I read the book and it killed me.
O my goodness. I tried to tell Stormie about it when she came by earlier today. Cry. *Sniff, sniff. And to be silly and try not to be all melancholy, I grabbed Gavin, who was here helping us take down our Christmas decorations and cuddled him on to my lap like I have been doing since June 2003 and kissed his cheek and he is getting so big. At 8 1/2 he doesn’t quite melt into his Nonna’s lap anymore (he just told me he has an adult-sized head). He still likes the attention, but is slightly embarrassed. And I jokingly said, “Everybody remember this in case it is the last time.”
There was practically a boooo and an eye-rolling moan from everyone, but also a palpable realization that this – this moment, this totally open relationship between a little boy and his Nonna, is a relationship that will grow and change and be re-defined as he becomes who God created him to be and has to pull away to become independent before he can, with full confidence in who he is, move back in closer with appreciation for these two old people who have loved him since the day he was born. And there is realization that time is flying and kissy-cheeks from Nonna, at least in their present, freely-flowing form, are making their way into a land of remember-when-memories. And growth is good and the destination is the point, but it changes everything you love in the moments that make life worth living to begin with. Nothing stays the same.
The first time
I don’t recall, though I love baby’s feet, when the last time I kissed the bottoms of my children’s feet was? I know I kept kissing them, even when they were “too old” for it because it made them laugh and I wanted them to know I adored them all the way from the bottoms of their little feet. They weren’t babies in age, but they were my babies. I can’t remember the last time I braided my little girls’ hair (I remember combing long, silky locks – or terrible tangles…lots of them) or what year I quit weaving red ribbons into their braids at Christmas? In my ornament box, I found a note my mom tucked into the branches of our Christmas tree in 2001…was that my last Christmas with my mom? I don’t know when the last time we sang “Testify” together at some church or played Risk as a family or any other number of mundane things that make up life. When was the last time Tara baked Jiffy pizza-bread sticks, anyway?
Lasting impressions
I do know the book struck a chord, something deeply reverberating through my heart. I am past the halfway mark now, but my senses and ability to feel love have increased exponentially with age, with experience. When the years rolled out ahead like there was no end in sight, I didn’t have to be as cautious in gathering memory, in recording the story, in remembering. But now that the lasts are happening, I don’t want to miss anything, not one thing.
2011 ~ 2012
One year rolls into another. And the year we have just lived, all the beauty and joy and ups and downs and round-abouts and surprises and laughs, the tears, the disappointments, the things that did not go our way – all of it, with the slightest move of a second hand on a clock becomes {*tick} last year, {*tock} a new year.
The days ahead
We get this brand-spanking-new-year in just a few hours. It will be filled with so much yet-undiscovered adventure. I am hoping for 3 new grandbebes in 2012 – or at least some good work toward that! *smile. And I am excited to see what God is going to do through Heaven Fest this year and the songs I have yet to sing and the seasons changing and the garden tomatoes filling my counters and time with the love and watching the incredible lives of my children whom I cherish and the children they share…but like the author of the book, my prayer is, even as each day brings new things in a new year, “Let me hold on longer, God, to every precious last.”
This was totally unrelated
Gavin took a quick break from Christmas packing-away for a snack. I turned on the TV and an old Rockford Files episode was on. I said to the grand-boy, “See James Garner? Now that is some swagger.”
“What show is this, anyway?” he asked me.
“‘The Rockford Files’ from the 1970’s!” I told him.
He grimmaced and asked “Why do people want shows from the 70s anyway? Do they wish they had a time machine so they could go back there or something?”
Haha. Laugh. Laugh. Maybe…
But then it became related
Just now, as I was about ready to push the “publish” button on this post, Gavin was leaving to go home to have a special New Year’s Eve night with his family, games and snacks and good times. He came to say good-bye and I hugged him tight and said, “One last kiss in 2011.” He kissed my cheek. I feigned sorrow, “But now my other cheek needs one last kiss in 2011 – for you and I will never hug and kiss in 2011 ever again.” He giggled and kissed my other cheek before bolting toward the door
as he quipped, “Nuh-uh, Nonna – I will build a time machine to come back to 2011.”
{Heart m e l t i n g } And I would get into that machine, Gav, to collect all the lasts I have maybe missed.
Hello, 2012
Dear 2011 – you gave me all the days you promised you would and I will carry them in my heart forever.
Ok, Stephanie Morgan-you did this to me. Love you for the sharing. But you’re killing me! xxoo
Time @ Christmas
Who has time to spare anymore?
Time is my favorite gift of all. Time is limited. Time is fleeting. Time flies. It runs out and it is money. Time is of the essence and time is on my side. And time is my love language (you can quote me on that).
My 6 fav trees this year, each uniquely crafted by one of my grandbebes
I LOVE-LOVE-LOVE getting to spend time with my family, with other people I adore at Christmas just because it is Christmas. You could make the argument that we cram too much togetherness into the Christmas season, but it would be wasted on me because without a reason drawing us, we are prone to let too much time and activity slip between our fingers – and not with people who matter to us more than life. Then it is just gone, along with chances to love…
Every year, the gift that means the most to me is the time my busy kids and husband give me on December 25 (and the few days before and after). I realize its great value and matchless worth. I cherish it like gold.
Mailed for one-cent in the early 1900s.
There is a time at Christmas for everything,
and a season for every Christmas activity under the heavens (though maybe not everything all at once or every year – over the course of life, everything needed to be accomplished and enjoyed and celebrated during Christmas will be…):
a time to be born (a looking forward to adoption this Christmas!) and a time to make snowman hand-print ornaments for the family-tree,
a time to glue-together glittery-paper trees and a time to clean out the toy box for all the new blessings,
a time to play movie games and a time to break out the brand new Play-Dough,
a time to tear down the tents Poppa built and a time to re-build them in your own houses,
At Christmas there is a time to weep when your cousin grabs your new doll and a time to laugh while bright-colored papers fly through the air and some one who gets you gave you something you’d never have asked for but secretly desired,
There’s a time to bemoan too many cookies and snacks and a time to dance in the Christmas program,
a time to scatter 64 brand new Crayola crayons and 276 tiny army guys all over the place and a time to gather receipts for returns,
a time to embrace and a time to appreciate,
a time to search for lost pieces of the new puzzle and a time to give up,
a time to keep these people close in your heart and a time to throw away grudges and offense,
a time to split the last chocolate chip cookie in half and a time to mend toy parts,
a time to be silent, just delighting in the people who surround you and a time to speak life-giving words,
There is a time to love until your heart is wrung out of all love (at which time God Himself will pour His love into us, flow through us) and a time to hate evil and destruction and defy it to enter our homes, our families,
Christmas is a time for reminding the enemy of our souls that Jesus came and saved us and a time for the Prince of Peace to be welcomed into our lives to rule and reign as He should…
What on earth do we gain from all the work of Christmas? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race, but the times of celebration He wants us to have, too. He has made everything beautiful in its time…there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat pumpkin pie and spiral-cut honey-hams and drink eggnog and punch, and find satisfaction in all their outdoor illumination and tree-decorating and gift-giving and singing—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does (even in the Christmas celebrations we present to Him in worship) will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it.
Thank-you for the time at Christmas, Father.
Obvious rip-off of Ecclesiastes 3.
Ornaments made through the years for the family tree
If I could put time in a bottle….
Gifts @ Christmas
Lisa Bierer hand-painted a Christmas card for me about a year after we met them. She painted a colorful tree with boxes below and each was labeled with one of the names of Dave and I and the kids. And she wrote a sentiment that said something like “You were the gifts under our tree this year.” I have never forgotten how truly appreciated and cherished I felt by that lovely visual and those kind words. And in life, I have found, that some people just appear from nowhere and you recognize that are divine gifts – you could never have chosen them if you’d had the choice, you could never have recognized them on the street.
First – the children God gave me. That He chose me to mother these people, well…speechless. They are admirable and gifted and beyond me in every possible way. I could not have comprehended how precious they were before they came and would have been paralyzed with fear if I had. The greatest gifts I ever got…
Then the grandchildren my children are having. Beyond words, delight to the moon and back! I love them a gazillion-million-trillion and have only barely tapped the resources of that love, it just keeps erupting.
And friends (including my best friend, Dave). I can count the forever friends on my fingers. And that is more than I deserve.
With the addition of the new-kid, Ryan (Tredessa’s husband!!), we are now 17. It is hard to tell, but Stephanie is holding my new grand-dog, a 7 week-old cute-as-a-button terrier mix.
The gifts:: It really is not about a new toaster or diamond earrings or even the highly-thoughtful hand-knitted scarf, but about the person who hands it to me, or when I get to wrap something up for some one I love with so much of my heart I have nearly none left (Shakespeare rip-off), but they get it. They see behind the meager attempt-in-a-box the love that placed it there, even though a “thing,” an inanimate object, is powerless to say what I really want to say.
The gifts are sweet. They are thoughtful. They are appreciated, and cherished. They are really the people who gave them. They are the people I love.
This pic by Dani Lay Photography (taken at The Heaven Fest Christmas Party)
A Norma Moslander Christmas
I keep trying to be my mom at Christmas.
I grew up in humble surroundings. In fact, I just had some one recently refer to the neighborhood I grew up in as the “ghetto.” But to me it was Leave it to Beaver-middle America. My dad was bi-vocational, a milkman in the wee hours and a church-planting-pastor by night, which in those days meant that he was, besides everything else, also financing it. And I watched my mom toil over her budget and struggle to make ends meet. Into the night she’d sit figuring out how to feed us and clothe us and support missionaries, too. But when Christmas came, she made it amazing.
Every year she’d tell me, “We can’t do much this year, but I will make sure you have at least 5 gifts under the tree” (I think her budget was $25 per child and there were 5 of us). There were always more. Plus the little touches like nuts in the shell for cracking throughout December.
She’d make “popcorn-ball garlands,” red and green rounds wrapped in cello and tied with red and green curling ribbon for relatives and neighbors. Her baked goods were prized gifts.
She made a big deal of December 15 – the day we always got the tree (my dad would not allow it earlier) and we’d carefully unpack a mish-mash of ornaments her relatives had given to her when she got married. I so regret getting her to switch to more organized “designer” trees 20 years ago or so, and teaching her to “theme.” I think she has reverted back somewhat, but I don’t know if any of my childhood ornaments, like the little collectors elves you see now, are still around. She gave me the angel-hair/spun glasss angel tree topper from 1964, but much of the rest is now gone. Because 20 years ago I was too busy trying to be unique to recognize the rich beauty of the traditions and little pieces of Christmas that had always been there.
On Christmas eve (right about now as I write), as soon as the sun began to set, we were home – warm and cozy and ate snacks and had homemade hot cocoa (not pre-mixed, please, my mom made it in a heavy pan with whole milk and fresh cocoa). There’d be popcorn and Bugles. Bugles. They were a Christmas Eve snack. And there were these things called Pizza Spins, which they no longer make. Usually some chips and dip, a rare treat in those days. And we would snack while watching A Charlie Brown Christmas or The Davy & Goliath Christmas episode.
We’d go to bed a little earlier than usual on Christmas Eve, dad having read the Christmas story to us from the Bible and the fam praying on our knees together before then, most years. I would agonize trying to go to sleep. I was always filled with such anticipation. Then there was always an unwrapped gift that we came out to in the morning. And other things my mom managed to fit into her budget.
I loved it.
I am still trying to figure out how she did it….
“All that I come from and all that I live for and all that I’m going to be – my precious famaily is more than an heirloom to me.”