Great gift idea! Stormie's cublicle mate at the graphics company where she works, Amber, creates unique adornments for the discerning, fashion-conscious woman. I like her "chocolate-covered cherry" piece. She does home shows, too!
Give somebody something they've never seen! Visit Amber's site at:
GIVING IS WHERE IT’S AT, a brain doodle from the noodle of my younger brother, Joe of Aberdeen, SD
Christmas was coming
My bank account was fat
T’was time to do the shopping
‘Cause giving’s where it’s at
With my mind all full of ideas
And a list a mile long
I headed out to Walmart
To battle the shopping throng
Before I could leave my driveway
My neighbor yelled and waived with a smile
He stopped me dead in my tracks
Just to shoot the breeze for awhile?
I gave him only a short hello
I had things to do, you see
I had long been known for my gift-giving
Everyone wanted a gift from me
I raced along the side streets
Barely stopping for the signs
I swerved from side-to-side down 6th
Avoiding long traffic lines
I was driving like a madman on speed
I was in the zone
Nothing could stop me now
Except that driver on the phone
She was slow and so distracted
She kept a ridiculous pace
Try as I might I couldn’t get ‘round her
Didn’t she know this was a race?
When finally I was able to pass
I gave her a qualified sneer
How dare she be so thoughtless?
She almost ruined my Christmas cheer
When I pulled in to park at Walmart
There really wasn’t much space
People were in a hurry
Determination on every face
Why couldn’t they shop at Shopko?
Why’d they come to store?
I knew I was in for battle
I knew this would be sheer war
No carts were left and space was tight
The employees were in a daze
People were pushing and shoving
The air thick with a greedy haze
I grabbed a cart from an older man
Who had turned his back on me
He shouldn’t be out in this weather, I mused
He looks like he can barely see
I ran the isles collecting gifts
Pushing everyone out of my way
Buying toys and tools and music and more
Ah, this was going to be a marvelous Christmas Day
With gifts all bought and my job done
I was feeling fine
At the cashier I pulled a fast one
I was able to cut in line
With the battle finished and my load in tow
I headed out the door
I chuckled to myself about my shopping skills
This year I had even knocked someone to the floor
Nobody was better at this shopping thing
Nobody gave better gifts
Now it was off to home to wrap them all
With pretty paper and bows and glitz
While driving home I saw a crowd
Watching some people sing
I heard their voices and saw their faces
What was this melodious thing?
They sang of love and of life
And made a joyous sound
I had never heard these words before
But their joy seemed to abound
I know full well what Christmas is all about
Giving is where it’s at
But these people sang about a baby boy…
Jesus Christ…who’s that?
I hope you're with family and friends. I hope the house smells of good things and you are comprehending the blessing and privilege of your life as you live under an open heaven.
I hope if I know you, you know how much I love you and am thankful for you.
Happy Day!…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: Teach the kids the "Five Fat Turkeys are We" song that Amy Jo insisted on teaching me last week as we colored pictures she had drawn of 5 fat turkeys.
"O, give thanks to the LORD for He is good! His mercy endures…Save us, O God…Gather us together…To give thanks to Your holy name…" 1 Chronicles 16
pictured: placecards Stomie made for our celebration
I think November-the-fourth was my cousin Diana's birthday. Whether it is or not, every year on the fourth of November, I think a lot about her.
My childhood came to an abrupt halt when we left my birth city of Des Moines when I was 10. We moved across the state where my parents would start a new church and life never felt quite the same to me. Wherever we lived after that, I always felt like a visitor, but was never "home."
But in Des Moines, other than the fact that I was indeed a Pentecostal preacher's daughter, which is a little "different," I did practically live the Leave-it-to-Beaver existance. Dad worked (AND pastored). Mom was at home with a fine apron collection. We lived in a big stucco house on a tree-lined street with an alley in the back, near which we burned our own trash. We created ballerinas from toothpicks and hollyhocks. I walked the few blocks to and from a school where classes began at 9:05 am and dismissed promptly at 3:10 pm. We chased fireflies on summer nights, outside with neighborhood friends way past dark, and our good neighbors would actually buy pretty rocks and shells from us (which we sold from old egg cartons) just to finance our trips to a corner grocery for penny candy.
Geez. I sound like I was born before electricity.
One great thing about my years in Des Moines was living near family. Almost all the grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles and cousins lived nearby. There were lots of impromptu family gatherings. I could walk to Grandma Baker's house. And when I started school, my cousin Diana was there to escort me to Wallace Elementary, where she also attended.
Diana was only about 4 years older than me, but to me she was all-wise and fully mature. Anything she thought or said or did seemed glamorous and exciting. The cool thing about that is that she was not at all bothered by my adoration or hanging on. There was a softness and gentleness in her, a graciousness. She watched over me and out for me.
I remember some girls, Jill and Jacquita, being mean to me one day in the first grade. Usually they were my friends, but for some reason that day they weren't and it was very upsetting. I had had a really bad day and I told Diana the things they had done and said – something I'd never have mentioned to my parents. On the way home those girls ended up in front of us on the sidewalk and I cannot remember what Diana said to them, but whatever it was caused Jacquita, the daughter of my mom's Avon lady, to sit on some one's front stoop and cry. I felt a little bad for her, but I felt totally protected by Diana. The next day, Jill and Jacquita were nice to me again.
I have rarely seen Diana since I married over 26 years ago, or maybe even since she married over 34 years ago. She is a pastor's wife living in Illinois now – a long ways away. Time and space comes between us all. But when I do think of her, and that is often, I remember the ornery twinkle in her eye – she found humor all around. And I recall how she snuck fingernail polish to me when it was forbidden. She was the first person I ever watched fall in love and she let me in on the secrets of life and love. I recall singing a lot with her – she playing the blond-wood piano and singing lead, me belting out the alto ("Lonely road…Calvary's way was a lonely road…"). I remember her as a good and kind cousin and I think of her every November the fourth with great fondness.
A cousin is part sibling, the same blood coursing through your veins, and part best friend. There is the safety of a sibling and the excitement of a person with a whole new perspective and address. A cousin understands where you came from because they came from there, too, in a roundabout way. But they expose you to new things and your parents totally trust them in that.
If Diana's birthday was November 4, I hope it was vey happy.
Love, Jeanie
pictured; My brother Joe recently forwarded this photo of Diana and her husband Tony and their grown children and grandkids to me. I still think she has the kindest eyes.
NOTE TO SELF: Maybe the holidays will be a time to catch up with the cousins…?
This was Guini's "cupcake tower" when she turned 2 in July. Stormie and I just went wild with color and stacked a bunch of dishes, including a martini glass on which to pile the mini-cakes. I know they sell those plastic cupcake holders now, but I hate buying something I will probably never use again. Her party invites had cupcakes on them, so we definitely had a theme going.
It's been a cake-crazed few months!!! See previous!
I'm such an amateur, but it's pretty fun!…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: Finish up wedding cake strategy for Audrey's cake and order the pans…find out what Jovan is wanting for her shower?…hmmmm….
It's a cool, crisp 64-degrees just past 10:30 am this fine fall morning – right here inside my kitchen! That's right, folks, Dave and I have not turned on the heat one time yet this fall (meaning the appliance in the basement with a pilot light, not, you know, the other heat…*blush), even though it has been getting pretty nippy. We had a solid frost yesterday morning and as I walked across the cold, hard, ceramic tile to make coffee, it felt like I was on ice. A quick glance at the thermometer said 57-degrees, and this was inside! I could nearly see my breath.
We love the game to see how long we can go without turning on the furnace. It's crazed. Dave keeps telling me to go ahead and turn it on. He wants me to break the streak. But we'll see how he does this weekend (although I have heard we are in another warming trend)!
The only time I "fudged" was when Gavin was coming over. I turned on the oven for about 10 minutes so my grandson would not turn blue and freeze to death. Other than that, I remain strong, almost pioneer-like, even though I live in suburbia. I am toughing it out.
Baby, it's cold inside…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: Maybe I'll let Dave win.
So here is the thing. I don’t really like cake and I cannot bake very well (I can bake bread and I can cook at least 3 or 4 fabulous meals, but baking sweets? No.).
Somehow, though, this trend is developing (is it because I am mad about Duff, The Ace of Cakes king???) and here I am, baking cakes and decorating them, by request. I made a joke about Barbie Doll cakes once. My mom’s one experience in trying to become a cake decorator was when a church lady taught her to make a Barbie cake and she made it for my 13th birthday. I hadn’t played with Barbies since I was 4 (because my mom threw them away since they were always lying around naked) and I wasn’t too happy about having to pose with it so I was making jokes about Barbie cakes. But Jovan said, “I want one.”
So she got one. I couldn’t find one with her coloring with blue eyes (Barbies are a very limited breed), but this one had her hair color and skin color and blue eye shadow so it looked the closest.
I wanted a pink gown, but had forgotten that every last drop of red food color went into Hunter’s firetruck a few weeks ago. So I had to use white and blue and green and when Dave came home, he brought red so I could create a few pink flowers and trim.
I used 2 cake mixes, Betty Crocker Funfetti and a couple of recipes of my famous almond-infused buttercream icing. I baked 3- 8″, 1- 6″ layer and used a small stainless steel bowl to bake the little mound for the top. I stacked them with icing in between on a 10″ crystal cake stand then I took a knife and “carved” a skirt from the cake pile.
It turned out to be the easiest to make so far. It was also much smaller than most of the recent cake attempts, but 13 people still ate less than half. I am glad Jovan made me do it. Now I know why my mom felt so proud and why she made me pose with it – as I made Jovan pose with this one!
Ken cake, anyone?…Jeanie
Pictured: Barbie getting her “crumb-coat.” Barbie, rear-side view; front-side view; and Barbie with Jovan, the inspiration.
NOTE TO SELF: If there is a next time, perhaps create an “undergarment” for Barbie so as not to traumatize the children as the dress is cut away.
Check out my Ace of Cakes (www.charmcitycakes.com) obsession and previous cakes here…here…and here…and here. Hmmm…we did a cupcake tower for Guini…who has those photos???
She is a cute girl, I remember thinking, the first time I ever saw Jovan. She was the younger sister of one of Tredessa's good friends and so, for a time, she was known to me as "Carli's sister."
When we finally knew her by her name, Dave and I kept pronouncing it all exotic-like with a soft "G" and a swinging "o" sound: Giovanni. "No, no, no," Rocky and Stormie would chide us. "Jovan." "J" sound. Simple. Pretty. Sweet.
I remember the first time Rocky brought Jovan "home." He had just declared that he was not going to date any girls for 2 full years, so I just thought it was Rocky bringing home a friend from the youth group (Jovan and Stormie hung out a lot). I remember her dazzling smile and her shyness. We spoke briefly as I headed out the door. Later Rocky chided me for not being more friendly to her. I should have known right at that moment that not only was he not going to be able to stick to his no-dating-girls-for-2-years proclamation, but that I'd just come across "the one" right there in my living room and I had failed to give the proper fanfare.
I just didn't know. I always tell Jovan now – I was trying to support his non-dating stance. Otherwise, yes, I'd probably tried to have impressed her.
She is an impressive girl, or I guess I should say "woman." She is just so pretty and has the most exotic eyes (eyelash length: 1.769 inches long). My husband knew right away she was the one for Rocky. I thought they were "just friends" because that is what they kept telling me! However, during a youth group trip to California that summer, their "friendship" grew and when he came home, they spent a lot more time on the phone and he would often tell me he grew in his walk with God just by all the conversations they had. He loved talking with Jovan about the Lord. And he loved telling me about how wonderful those conversations were. I thought something was up, but they were only "friends." Right.
Later that year, having watched them dance and laugh and look into each other's eyes at several weddings, her family invited all of us over for her birthday party. Rocky stayed behind and sometime after midnight, just after Jovan turned 17, he kissed her (he assurred me the other night that it was just a kiss – no making out, as if I were still going to try to ground him for something in 2003???). Let the games begin.
They dated. Then they didn't. I missed Jovan during that time. I went almost a whole year without her around. When she came back to hang with Stormie some more around the holidays, she fit. She just fit.
We'd have these crazy huge parties and Jovan would jump right in for the preparation. She'd string lights and make appetizers and run the vacuum. She even cleaned our bathrooms, God love her! Then she would show up to the party as calm and relaxed as could be, welcoming people in her glittery party dress, helping us host way too many people. She was a charmer.
She loves so much of what I love and always affirmed my family life and traditions. We both love over-the-top entertaining and baking and cooking and decorating. She is very sentimental and appreciated my family photos everywhere and the kid's childhood artwork displayed on my walls instead of the "Christian-y" Thomas Kinkaid prints so popular these days. She has honored me by holding the same things dear that mean the world to me – especially Rocky.
If you have seen Rocky or know him at all, you can imagine he was never a boy that was overlooked by the pretty girls. I saw my main job as he grew into a beautiful young man as swatting off the girls who were not right for him. I will never forget a conversation he and I had not long before he and Jovan had reunited into the relationship that would sweep them into marriage and "one flesh." Rocky was weighing some lonliness he was feeling in spite of the time he was spending in friendships with several different girls (who were all wanting more). He was almost 21, a worship pastor, and he knew he needed to be careful in relationships. I was cutting his hair and we were discussing his pros and cons on a variety of young women. It seemed that everytime he had a reservation about an attribute of a girl, I would say, "Well, you need some one like Jovan who…" whatever it was. Her name just seemed to keep coming up.
I don't know if that day was a revelation to him as much as to me as I suddenly saw Jovan in those moment like this: she loves Rocky. When he is in the room, everyone there knows her attention is on him. She receives from him spiritually and honors him as a man of God. She respects the daylights out of him and though I had seen many a young man try to catch her eye, she never wavered, nor flirted back. She was gracious and set. I could see her loyalty as Rocky and I talked that day. I could see that she was wholeheartedly devoted to him. There was no doublemindedness in her. She didn't throw herself at him. She didn't act goofy. She never chased him down. She just remained loyal, true, and godly and very nice to his family. What more could a mom want for her son? I had finally found the only person who would ever love Rocky more than his mommy.
I didn't tell him that. But he knew, too. Very shortly, he announced that he had chosen Jovan. And there she was again, back in our lives in a very comfortable way. Her cute shoes were kicked off at our door and she spent many weekends making herself part of the Rhoades family. When it became official as they married in September of 2006, the memory that stands out the most is watching Jovan look at Rocky like no one else was there and say her vows to him. And I know she meant every single one. They were not just words. She vowed to my son before God and us all. I was blessed because my son was forever surrounded by her love. And she is ours! She is our new baby girl: Jovan Marie Rhoades (she is the youngest of them all, now). I didn't have to carry her for 9 months, but in a way, I carried her for almost 20 years because I prayed for the girl who would someday be my son's wife. I prayed…and God has given me what I asked for…
Today Jovan is 21. She is still this knock-out-beauty-newlywed. She glows as she carries the life of their first baby girl within. She is what she has been since I first met her: she is sweet and kind, tender and sensitive. She is sentimental and thoughtful. I cherish our scrapbooking times together. I treasure the words of affirmation she has spoken over our family. I love how she adores my son. I thank her for seeing the good and accepting the not-so-good parts of us and for choosing to become a part of us and our traditions and weirdnesses and thinking it is all worth it to have Rocky. I love that the grandkids adore Aunt Jovan and that our scruffy family dog found a friend in her, too. I love that she wanted to marry Rocky since she was 14 and that her quiet charm and smile won him over. I love that Jovan is my daughter and when I walk into a room she makes her way to me with a big hug and honors me as her husband's mother, whether I deserve it or not.
I love you, Jovanie. I do thank God for you. You were born to join us. On that day 21 years ago, you were born to be a Rhoades. You are a part of us. Happy, happy, birthday, wonderful woman. Thank-you for accepting us and loving us. Your imprint on our family is getting deeper and deeper. Someday we'll all be a little less sarcastic and little sweeter because of you…
All my love…mom
NOTE TO SELF: More time scrapbooking and going over family history with Jovan – it lightens my heart, it makes me grateful in a huge way!
Pictured: Jovan and her eyes; all my girls left to right: Jovan, Stormie, Stephanie, Tara, Tredessa; me and Jovan and some huge earrings; Rocky and Jovan in Maui on their honeymoon; Jovan right in the middle of the Rhoades tribe about a month before Gemma was born, 4-07.
They came from Kansas and Missouri and Vegas and Oregon. It wasn’t a large group this time. The only “nexgen” cousins were my kids and their kids (and Debbie and Mark’s 2 cuties). But my husband’s siblings and spouses and his dad got together over the period of a week in late July in various groups and increments which culminated at a country club in Eaton, Colorado that weekend with the whole kit-and-caboodle of us.
It was a sweet and blessed time when we all got a little more vulnerable with each other and promised to stay in touch better (and we are not doing too well on that, actually, yet) and other than Dale’s wife, Linda (Rhoades of Oregon), getting mauled by Garry’s dog and being rushed for stitches in her hand by ambulance, all were well and healthy and traveled uneventfully. Maybe the dog just bit her, but I like the color of the word maul. I hope that is healing well. I really enjoyed getting better acquainted with Linda this time. She is delightful and I know her well enough to tell you: she really needs the use of her hands.
Everybody brought photo albums to share and some one had the really good idea to bring the very old albums. Dave brought his computer and scanner and we were able to scan Sandra and Larry’s (Nenstiel of Vegas) and Garry & Sharon’s (Rhoades of Colorado) wedding photos from the 1960’s when Dave was a baby and later a ring bearer. We’d never had any of these, so now we have this huge treasure of family photos we’d never have known about, many in black and white. It’s like – my husband now has possession of more of his history, memories that were below the surface have had a light shined on them and are emerging.
Sharon (Morrison of Missouri at the time, but who just moved to Washington) got everybody submitting pictures of cakes they have made and decorated over the years and is turning that into a family history of sorts. That was all the fuel I needed for my Ace of Cakes obsession (see my shameless cake promotion here and here, here and here). Some of these I have just done recently, but believe me, Sharon will be getting photos for her cake album! After all the work you put into decorating a cake, it gets cut to pieces and scraped into the trash. But dear, sweet Sharon will honor it and make everyone she knows look at the pictures and all of our hard work will live on in infamy. Her husband Ray (Morrison of Missouri until he moved to Washington this month) is the greatest guy. He is truly a big brother to my husband and all of our kids adore him.
Debbie and Mark (Thomas of Kansas) brought tomatoes from the family farm which were so wonderful I wrote about them previously! Debbie’s the “baby” of the family and special to Dave. We were able to get some pics of them together that are so great: big brother and little sister, always. Mark is a fireman and a gentleman. They have the cutest kids and it is so good to see God’s favor on them.
Sandra and Larry (Nenstiel of Vegas) are big sister and brother to the whole group, really taking a leading role in strengthening family bonds, gently nudging us together and watching out for us.
Uncle Dale of Oregon, the rough outdoorsman/sportsman sews, we found out and helps a friend with her wedding dress business. Grandpa Rhoades, in his late 80s, still has girlfriends. Ray & Sharon really liked the rocked-out Whitewater service complete with smoke machines and crazy lights, when they attended church with us where Rocky was leading worship just before heading home.
My husband was adopted into a good family. The Rhoadeses are just good people!
Blessings…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: Get on it and start writing and calling family more! Make Dave do it, too.
Pictured:The whole group of us at the country club; Garry & Sharon’s wedding in the 60s – Dave was the ringbearer; Dave and his baby sister, Debbie; the 6 Rhoades siblings – Dale, Garry, Sandra, and Sharon are seated, Dave & Debbie are standing behind; Dale and Dave with their dad, Raymond Rhoades; me flanked by sisters-in-law Sharon and Sandra
I recently wrote about being a baby-book-challenged mom and my failure to properly record, in book form, the history of my 5 children (see it here). Oh, occasionally I did some work on the baby books. I started pretty well with Tara's before she was born. I got all the baby shower gifts recorded. Each book had some photos and hospital braceletes tucked in. There was an attempt. It was just a failed attempt.
But I DID keep lots of the bits & pieces of their childhoods – totes full of memories sat on garage shelves waiting for the right time. They were filled with school artwork and favorite little baby outfits from each child. There were special blankets I had sewn and sweet sweaters made by now-deceased aunts. Treasures!
So, I went through everything and kept some of it for the chronicles I am assembling that scream of the faithfulness and goodness of God in our family for the past 26+ years. But mostly, I decided to give the things my children had made and the things we'd collected to represent their lives back to them. I filled these giant hot pink bags with the scraps of their pasts and tied them with big bows and attached my apology-of-sorts letter to each.
Here, in part, is what the letter said:
"THE CHOSEN TREASURE OF YOUR HEART
To my children – What do with this stuff…
I know receiving all these odds and ends and bits and pieces of your lives may cause you to wonder: what am I suppose to do with all this stuff? And why is mom giving back to me the things I made for her as a kid?
Well, I am keeping plenty of little momentos and scraps myself. As you know, I am hard at work cataloguing our lives, creating a chronicle of the adventures that we have enjoyed. I am placing everything in books that I can pull out at a moment's notice and peruse and enjoy, but I am simplifying at this stage in my life. I hope the fact that I have held onto these things for so many years will speak to you of the importance they have had in my heart.
As I have prepared to give these things to you, I have looked at every single item again. I have touched each memory, smiled and cried over piece after piece of our family history. There were little scribble drawings and coupons you gave me along with your incredible artwork and report cards filled with teacher's notes (nearly always good!), and it is all so precious to me. Now I hope you can enjoy it, too.
But, more than anything – I don't want you to be overwhelmed by it. So I am sending along a few suggestions.
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite "books," was the scrapbook my mother had created as she was growing up. She had glued napkins from special parties and locks of hair (hers and family members), photos of her pets and poems she wrote when they died. She filled her book with certificates she won in Sunday School and letters from her mom. There was a hand-written note from Marty Robbins and pictures of Roy Rogers and Dale Evans with their horses. They were her treasures. I loved looking at that book. My mom would only let me see it on special occasions because it was getting old, even then, but sometimes I sneaked to look at it because I found it all so interesting. It told me about my mom before there was me and it contained the true essence of her. The things she saved then, some as far back as over 60 years ago now, still speak about who she is, still bring insight into her heart.
So, I truly see the value in scrapbooks and keeping momentos and keepsakes. There is a huge scrapbook "movement" going on and this really isn't about that. This is just about organizing the pieces of your lives so you can enjoy them. In that spirit, here is what I suggest you do with this huge bag of goodies:
It is amazing how the things we write or draw or won as a child shape us as adults. I recently went through many of my belongings and ended up throwing away a lot of things that reminded me of a person I no longer am and never again want to be. But I am choosing, from the chosen treasure of my heart, to hold onto things that have brought me to where God always wanted me to be – the person He originally intended.
Memories are a tough thing sometimes. They can play tricks on us. At [48], I have made a decision to spend the last half of my life remembering the good stuff, the laughs, the successes, the wins – my chosen treasures. This is why I am cataloguing the blessed life I have been given. I am remembering the goodness of the Lord, the heritage He gave me, the legacy He is allowing me to leave. I am recalling His provision and His confidence in me to be your mother.
This is my chosen treasure. I hope you'll find some of yours in this collection of stuff."
Blessings my parent-friends – it's not too late to bless the kids!… Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: As I look around my house, the photos, the objects d'art, the books, the letters, the stuff…I am blessed, rich, at peace. There has been some pain along the way, yes, but it has been gloriously outweighed, richly overtaken by blessing. God is faithful. He is so faithful.
Pictured: the kids as three mice and 2 kittens and as beauty contestants and MC (clothes from various weddings they did that year), October 1987.