my grandma was awesome.

i've been backing up pictures this evening . . .
it's fun stuff. really. especially reminiscing.
and i'm up to august 2011.
here are a couple pictures i found there.

grammy was awesome.
she's the gorgeous one on the right. with her cousin, "aunt laura" [as we call her] dressed up as a gentleman to her left. el oh el. gotta love cousins/sibling dress-up sessions.
isn't that awesome? :)
makes me smile.

i love old people.

. . . makes me think of gram. and grandpa jack, who died when mom was still young.
dangit, those people in that picture are freaking cute. [rach just said she could see me doing that someday. hahaha . . . thanks.]
here's the post where i found it.
bohemian bowmans always has it spot-on. gosh.
i so do what she does . . . imagine what they were like when they were young; the tough and happy, bright spots they went through to get here, everything. life is just precious.
:)
so . . . has anyone missed me?
el oh el.

people who like my hair cut.

old men like my hair cut the best, i think.
it sounds more awkward than it is [unless you hang out with my older sister anna, who's gorgeous and a wonderful person but can truly bring out some awkward stuff if she's in the mood to tease you, ahem], but it's true.

 that's ma seester. ♥

and i only start to get weirded out about it when anna starts teasing me hardcore about said older men.....
urgh.
anyhow, she has her fun.
we just got back from singing to some older people at the nursing home up the street.
every second wednesday of the month, at 2pm :)
in the hallway down to the dining room with the piano, there was this lady, half sleeping, half staring at the fishies in the tank. so sad. kind of reminded me of gram, though, in her last few weeks. :\
i admit, i moved straight on, because i didn't want to stand there pondering it and start crying and be late for the people who were waiting for us . . .
there was this new little lady, stella, who sat on the left side. petite, bright, and just cute.
"hello; my name is stella seymour." i shook her small, old hand.
"my name's rebekah," i told her.
gosh, you can't help but smile at her.
"ah, good to meet you." her gaze shifts to stare at the top of my head. "you've got really pretty hair! it looks good on you!"
me: laughing. "why, thank you!"
then, anna's next to me. stella looks at anna. "can i please have a drink of water?"
anna: "uh, sure, i'll go ask."
stella: "well, i think you can find one right in there," she gestures to her right; the kitchen doors are right there. hah.
anna: "hold on. i'll go see." she goes to talk to the activities organizer lady.
then, the lady next to stella leans over. "that girl doesn't work here; she's a singer!"
stella: "oh! my. i didn't know that. i'll make sure to apologize."
oh. my. word. you have no idea how cute she was when she said all that. i wasn't cracking up because i wanted to hear it all, but inside i found it all hilarious and all i could do was smile.

and another lady. her name is jerri, says anna. jerri sat next to stella.
i've written about her before, i swear i have.
she stared at my shirt. it's from c28...and it's got some lyrics from david crowder band's song how he loves.
"ah! my!" she's smiling. then she starts to read it. she's another one who's got her older head screwed on straight, thank God. i love meeting older people like that. "Jesus is jealous for me . . . he loves me like a hurricane. whoa! like a hurricane!" her face and reaction is so comical. "well, boys, stay away!" she laughs.
"most of them do," i assure her, laughing. "pretty much all the bad ones stay away. hahaha."
"ah. that's good."
:)
that lady's so darn sweet.
i want to be like her when i'm old.
please God, let it be so....

me and mr. steinke. hilarious.

then, after mom talked about some scriptures and word pictures, i picked up my acoustic guitar to do a special. earnestly i seek thee. i had to tune the strings up because i haven't played it in a couple weeks...my bad.
so, as i'm tuning bit by bit and listening to the notes, mr. steinke beckons me, sitting behind miss stella.
"you." he nods. "yes, you. come on over here."
so i'm like huh. has he lost a marble or two since i last saw him? i truly hope not. but really, i don't get called over very often. heh. heh. 
i walk over, with my guitar.
he smiles. "i like your hair!" he states, quite emphatically.
everyone laughs. especially anna and rachel, who were both anticipating who knows what from this grandpa.
"i do; it looks great on you! and also, you should sing a song in alto. it would sound really good with everything else."
"well, i sing whatever works for my voice." i smile.
gosh, so hilarious.

sigh.
there's nothing like getting a dose of time with old people.
what would the world be without them?
i don't want to know.

p.s. i have all these [mostly library] books to read. er...look through.... :)
black is next. :D

seafood pasta. and butter. and memories.

scallops sizzling in butter. just fyi.

I have memories.
I was around 5.
I had two older siblings and one younger than me at the time.
Spaghetti noodles, buttery seafood –er, fake crab, and scallops—and night fallen outside.
Presently, days go by so slow; years go by so fast.
Back then? years dragged by. We called ourselves by halves in age. So excited. So eager. So bright, wondering why time wasn’t going faster because something better was always just around the corner!

  The dining room table, inevitable smeared with grease because of our small, young hands.
Adult hands scrubbing a hot, soapy cloth over the surface in preparation for the next best part of the night.
Dad in the kitchen, Anna too . . . Gram washing dishes; funky glasses and the functional grandma body that was so familiar and always at the right level to hug as a child.
Grandpa Lean, our elderly neighbor who was a U.S. soldier at Iwo Jima when the flag was raised, sitting in the corner in his khaki’s, long sleeved shirt, and tweed or argyle sweater vest. Grey hair and large glasses perched on a large nose above a large smile that smokes those small cigarettes at his house. The place where the coffee table has a pumpkin candy holder filled with candy corn and hard mints. The place where you sit on the low tweed sofa and you smell stale smoke but see the person across the room in his favorite chair, a person you’ve grown up just knowing was next door, smiling with those wrinkles all around and you wonder how the heck did they get there? Oh. From smoking. That’s my childhood knowledge in its stellar setting.

 little david, mesmerized by the media player's graphics the other day. :)

We would always have seafood pasta on new year’s eve.
Gram and our neighbor grandpa Lean would come over. Maybe play checkers with duplos on a woven mat on the freshly-scrubbed table.
Gram would clean the kitchen with whoever wasn’t the first one to play Grandpa Lean on the checkers.
The table was so high, so wide, the people so old, so wrinkled, and I was so happy they were there.
The food was so good, so good we all stuffed ourselves, and I didn’t know the whole logic of playing checkers.

We would wash the duplos in the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water after the night was done.
Old hands that hold cigarettes do that.
I don’t think I stayed up past midnight until I was about 9 or 10.
I just remember I would wake up the next day thinking, I can’t believe it’s another year. I’m almost __ years old!

we added basil and tomatoes fresh from our garden, this time. :) and instead of spaghetti, egg noodles.

don't swing on the swing you have premonitions against.

my ankle hurts.
picture this swing, but me with short hair talking on the cell with my dear friend pj.
next scene: me on the ground, inner left ankle bruised and scraped by either the swing or the broken limb or both, and me nearly hyperventilating.
pj witnessed it all via cell.
how lucky is she.
and just the other day, i heard anna telling ben to take the swing down . . . could've been avoidable. dangit.

this picture made me cry.
and suddenly. i miss gram a lot. the very much alive, sparkling, humorous, gram.

gram would love this decaf coffee i just brewed. i can almost see her impish smile at the mention of it.
what? coffee at 9:58pm . . . psh, normal. well, if it's decaf. but it's required for comfort. it just is.
ankle comfort . . . missing loved ones comfort . . . i dunno.
this is just a post to remember when i'm old.
random life stuff before i post a recipe.

in other news, i'm going into episode 4 of white collar and i'm thoroughly gone. hook line and sinker. i love this show. and i do believe that i'm one of the last people out of everyone i know to join in the love of it. sigh. better late than never;)

how's your week going? did you do anything good or interesting or exciting or bad or lazy on this lovely sunday? the weather was lovely, that's what i'm sure of.

ww2, old traveling pictures, etcetera.

  sunday evening before leaving with the fam 

and cousin david to see captain america: me likey!!

my thought summarization, 

if you care to read: 

. . . i liked captain america very much. did not think much of the red-faced dude, however. 

the brunette lady needed more screen time. 

random blonde lady needs to suck lemon water or join a convent in a dungeon somewhere... 

and that was a pretty decent ending and after-credits scene. :) :)

the end.

~~~

When you dance, 

your purpose is not 

to get to a certain place on the floor. 

It's to enjoy each step along the way. brilliant thought of the moment: canvas worthy?? :)
[Wayne Dyer]

that quote reminds me of swing dancing, and the things we learned without the scheduled lesson [tips were given to us by the lovely martha:]; rather, through the actual dance. no instructor walking you through tip-toe increments and counting, hold and technique. we were learning through mirroring the someone else's steps. learning through positioning your hands just so, to sense the push and the pull and the nudges of larger hands around ours.
gram would be so proud; just how many years back, she would've gone out there and cut a rug herself. :)
dance rant over.

i've started reading the introvert advantage.
i'm thinking that i'm . . . an introvert. but that doesn't necessarily mean the stereotypical shy, doesn't like being around people much, book reader type all the time.
sure, those come in, ebbing and flowing sometimes. but it's more about how extroverst and introverts are on opposite ends of the energy continuum.
in one paragraph on page 7 of the overture, it says

"where we fall on that continuum predicts how we derive our life energy. people on the more introverted end of the continuum focus inward to gain energy. people on the more extroverted end of the continuum focus outward to gain energy. this fundamental difference in focus can be seen in practically everything we do..."

i have page 23 of chapter one dog-eared. it's good reading but i think it's going to take me a while.

monday, anna came home and showed me these pictures, from gram's trips more than 9 years ago...2000? 2001? estimated, that's what i say.
it's just amazing, though.

yes. in verona, the juliet statue. that's gram, to the right, with aunt loraine . . . a . . . niece of hers? or something.

just like in letters to juliet.
next . . .

yes, you guessed it. france.

eiffel tower. wowza.
now, the latest movie i saw with this thing in it was monte carlo. sad, huh? referencing all these chick flicks as my latest vicarious experience of such wonders? it's what you resort to when you don't have hundreds on hand to travel with at the moment. :P

also, they went in anne frank's house. mhmm.

just seeing these pictures makes it even more real that gram was there, once upon a time, standing in that room, seeing smelling hearing and feeling everything there. crazy.

my gram was one very traveled lady. :)

and this book . . . i'm going to read it sometime.
it takes the breath out of me, fascinates me to no end to just stare at artifacts like this, from another time.

it holds even more mystery because one of gram's older brothers was MIA/KIA in ww2 somewhere over hawaii; never found, not even his plane . . .
i have to say, i have imagined him somewhere on an island out there, 88ish by now, living the life of an islander since 1944 or 45. my great uncle. that would be something.
i know it's kind of impossible, in reality . . . 
hey, i can imagine, can't i?

now for something from today:
anna and i drove to meet skylar and her cousin, destiny, at a coffee shop this morning. [dest on the left, sky on the right.]

 

we haven't seen sky since march, because everyone's lives are just so darn busy, hahaha, so it was good to get together and reminisce on when she was our neighbor . . . and nearly live-in sister.i do believe she's still in the "the peoples" tab up there; though she's not a daily person in our lives anymore.
here's the thing with me and that coffee shop: i love it. it's so darn cute. but it's a little too far away and therefore not worth the gas every day if i wanted to work there someday . . .
sigh.
then, tonight, around 5, a storm rolled in.
wonderful thunder, really lovely downpour and breeze, pretty sweet lightning, too, until i saw it strike right out in front; on the freaking boulevard not 40 feet from our house. yikes.
you can imagine the thunder from that hit.
around 5:50, the power went out. [huge smile]
fun stuff.
it was out until 6:30, and i know that's nothing to some people.
our power goes out about 1-3 times a year, and no more than a couple hours each time due to snazzy storms like these. they don't come that often. although the rain is so good for some of the crops and especially good for the brother's lawn business [green gold and all that;)] i'd take the rain without the light and thunder most of the time, thankyou.

clover and thoughts.

This week was full.
Sunday: bike ride to church for the first time.
Monday: cleaning the house, packing for a camping trip.
Tuesday: Gram’s funeral.
Wednesday till today when we came home: camping in our trailer.
And visiting with friends.
And going to a few services of a church conference.
Bike rides; long walks.
Had my first cup of cold brew coffee in the form of a 16oz English toffee iced latte with extra cold brew for less sweetness.
Amazing.
So today when we got home, Anna and I worked at the flea market for a while.
Then we came home for the first time in a while.
It was good.
And right now I wish tomorrow wasn’t Sunday. Because I want to sleep and sleep and not go anywhere and sleep and read some more.
But it is what it is. And I’ll be home and reading and napping before I know it. Time is like that.

10:24pm
I sliced mushrooms.
Anna mixed up this delicious pasta thang.
Creamy sauce. Cheese. Spinach. Pasta. Butter. Mushrooms. = Goodness. :)
As I was eating it; a second bowl after “real” dinner…she said “I wish Grammy could eat this. I know she’d like it. I wish she could’ve tried it; I know she would’ve eaten it.” The last 2 weeks she'd hardly eaten anything, but we still gave her as much liquids as we could. Before that, psh, she'd eat a few bowls of anything for a meal:)
Something tugs inside me. Like, I thought I was happy and fine and everything. Now this moment. “Why do you have to say that?” I let some of my feelings into the words so she knows I’m not deflecting it all.
“Because. She would’ve liked this.”
She smiles a little bit.
All I can say: there’s this sharp thing in there. Under my ribs. Stinging in my eyes.
Wrapping like an amazon vine around my heart and lungs, my throat, tugging everything close and snug till aching.

I guess . . . now I realize it with familiarity; it’s been a while since I’ve felt this acute type of it . . .
I miss her.

[i guess it's going to be a wave sort of thing.
how should i know?
though i've experienced people going away and the missing and sadness that comes with that, i've never had this permanent type of going away. and duh, i know it's not permanent. but it kind of is for now.
i've got dishes to catch up on a wee bit, and elenowen to listen to. and sleep to get. but maybe a book to finish first. hoping i fall asleep easy . . . ]
p.s. i cannot wait to share some of the pictures i took this last half of the week. :)

peace. and balloons in the sky.

my wittle --er, well, not-so-little-- sister, rachel, took pictures throughout today.
gram's funeral.
it was rough for a while there.
rough being . . . me, breaking down as i stepped into the sanctuary to see relatives --close in relation but not relationship to us-- mourning by the casket in the front. the last time i saw her was thursday when she died. so, seeing her for the last time until someday? . . . hmm. hard.
my constants: kleenex. mints. lip balm. lots of hugs. lots.
something that's never happened to me before in the "you look like so-and-so" department; an older couple who had roller skated with grandpa jack (gram's husband who died way back when mom was 19) said they could see jack in me.
it almost made me cry.
someone who knew him?
seeing him in me?
precious.
it makes me want to study pictures of him, try to find a piece of me there.
heather came for the funeral, and stayed till everything was over, even the thank-you's we all wrote. heather and her good writing and gentle x's to mark a card already written back to. ;) memorable times, i say. thanks again, love!

if you're going to watch the slideshow down there, push play on this song and breathe it in. i'm doing so now, at 10:21pm.
for some odd reason, i never even touched my camera until we came home.

this one is mine.

and so is this one. obviously. it's gram's scarf. us girls wore some of her scarves today . . . picked out of the plethora in her closet.
i disagree with wearing all black to a funeral. we're living. and it just seems to out of place. today, for me, anyways.
i want to say thank you again to all of you who said or didn't say you were praying for us, thinking about us.
thank you.

and this slideshow?
all rachel. and her growing talent. love you rach!

♥
did you catch the picture of danny waving to the balloons in the sky, far, far in the distance?
made me tear up, seeing young, young life waving farewell to a symbol of a long, full life that has moved beyond, to . . . Home.

 ~~~

Psalm 139Search Me, O God, and Know My Heart
To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David.
 O LORD, you have searched me and known me! 2You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
   you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
   and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
   behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
   and lay your hand upon me.
 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
   it is high; I cannot attain it.

  Where shall I go from your Spirit?
   Or where shall I flee from your presence?
 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
    If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
   and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
   and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me,
   and the light about me be night,"
 even the darkness is not dark to you;
   the night is bright as the day,
   for darkness is as light with you.

 For you formed my inward parts;
   you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works;
   my soul knows it very well.
 My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret,
   intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;in your book were written, every one of them,
   the days that were formed for me,
   when as yet there was none of them.

 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
   How vast is the sum of them!
 If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
   I awake, and I am still with you.

 Oh that you would slay the wicked, O God!
   O men of blood, depart from me!
They speak against you with malicious intent;
   your enemies take your name in vain!
 Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD?
   And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?
I hate them with complete hatred;
   I count them my enemies.

 Search me, O God, and know my heart!
    Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
   and lead me in the way everlasting!

coffee=love.

the funeral is tomorrow at 11.
guessing by the amount of beans left in our last 2lb bag from co-op, we are probably half a pot's worth away from being out of coffee.
i had a brain spazz and thought of putting it out there that if people want to show us some love (well, me, actually) they can bring a bag any size of victor allens/berres brothers/starbucks/caribou/any local type of coffee tomorrow.
grammy would like it, i'm sure.
her eyes would sparkle and she'd laugh in that mischievous way that she passed down to me.
the above is all sort of a joke.
then again, not.
we'll go grocery shopping and dad will pick up some sort of french roast, which is what he tends to get if i don't put it in our order from co-op. [of course; the 2lb bag of dark roast hopped from a steady $15 to $25 one month, then 19 the other month....needless to say, we only bought it on the better value month, since caribou has 2lb for $20.]

i'm soaking up this song.

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.
[Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.]

brother. sister. mac. fun.

for the pleasure and amusement . . .
here are a few photos ben and i took this afternoon for the heck of it.
:)

 colored pencil ^^

 mirror ^^

 pop art. ^^ we look good as pop art. :)

 heat or something... ^^

 some sort of tunnel effect ^^

 inverted ^^ aka, film from a non-digital camera. ;)

 comic book ^^

colored pencil ^^
i wish my laptop had an awesome photo booth thang like a mac....                                
maybe someday i'll get one.
who knows.

~~~

once again, if i didn't get to reply to your individual comments by email, thank you all for your comments and condolences and love on my post yesterday about gram passing. ♥
i'm doing pretty good.
today was good.
it was last night --it being the first night; the end of that day-- that really got to me.
and i'm just so glad she lived a long, full life, and we got to make memories (good and bittersweet) with her.
that's all the thoughts for now:)

a picture i took yesterday late afternoon.

♥ grammy. ♥

i had a feeling it would be soon.
especially yesterday, when i took pictures of mom taking gram out for a walk.
i knew it.
i knew that she would most likely be less than a month here.
and now she's with Jesus; vibrantly alive and strong, beautiful and whole.
and home.
not to mention she's with grandpa jack, her husband; and all her immediate family.
it's a beautiful thing up there.
and what a gorgeous day.
what hurts my heart is seeing others cry; hearing mom call people and tell them the news.
i feel like i'm crying for the whole family, for goodness sake.
i've been a leaky faucet ever since that moment around 9:30 today. 

my birthday 2010

july 3 2009

july 30 2009 ^^gram, me, and eliyah as a wee little thing:)

november 14 2009 ^^grandma, grandpa, lyddie and grammy.

november 2 2009 drinking coffee in the kitchen with me:)

november 3 2009 gram and a friend.

january 1 2010 ....it's obvious rach and lyd had fun getting gram dressed up. ;)

july 17 2009 my graduation party.

july 30 2009 gram holding eliyah:) she was just 3 months old. gram cooed over her all the time.

february 12 2011

don't ask me which year this was. she was in scotland. mom says it was in 2000.
crazy to think that 11 years ago she was traveling.

may 8 2010 ^^this makes me laugh:) dad says she looks like a professor or something.

may 8 2010 ^^that look in her eyes; she was about to say something. this brings to mind her phrases that centered around my imaginary boyfriend. i'd be walking through the living room, and she'd say "oh, you look dressed up today. you going out with your boyfriend?" and she'd have this cheeky smile on her face.

in the kitchen before the funeral people came for her, mom nudged me.
"good morning, grammy!" she quoted in a high voice. we laughed and i started crying.
"i'll never forget that; your suave way with her."
yep.
it's true. everyone said i had a way with her.
she brought out the best and worst in me. we'd have good mornings and interviews and conversations goodnights and be snarky. that was when she talked more.
she was 87. and i'm so glad she lived that long. if she had gone earlier, with less of a long decline, i don't know how much harder that would be.
i remember her banana bread. the clip on earrings she wore. the jello with mandarin oranges that she'd bring to lunch after church on sundays. the hugs she would give. how i was jealous of her clean buick car versus our van that always looked inhabited, if you know what i mean. her chocolate chip cookies in a tupperware container with a slice of bread to keep it moist.

making krumkake with her in her kitchen. burning our fingers on the fresh lovelies and eating them with smiles and pride over our dainty work of yumminess. the scavenger hunt mom and anna made up for her to find a cute little tv how many years ago. the stories i hear of her coming to the house when i was born, and the pizza she warmed up for everyone and the handkerchief on her head, oh so stylish. ;) the story she would tell on prompting of how grandpa jack asked her on their first date, and how he proposed a while later. the white sugar she would let us sprinkle on our rice krispies and cheerios the morning after a sleepover at her house. adventures, adventures. and the bag of bugles and snacks she'd bring on roadtrips with our family? cherished.
i love her. and i'm so grateful God gave her to us . . . . and for how He's taking care of her now.
♥