The Last of the Generation

Two weeks ago today my dear Uncle Bill passed on. He is by far the main reason I have been transcribing hundreds of old family letters and the fact that he is no longer here to read them is a great loss to me. He was the last of the four siblings born to Herman August Ludwig Weber and Susan Rosina Sherwood. He was the first to arrive in their family and the last to leave. We will miss him greatly. He was a generous, warm hearted man. In honor of him, I thought it would be fitting to hear his Uncle's thoughts from the day he first learned of William Philip's coming advent. Uncle Bill -- we will never forget you. (In this photo, Bill stands on the right of his siblings and his grandfather, William Sherwood a few years later. The others, Left to right, are Mary, Robert (my dad) and Carl.) His uncle, George, here writes from Luxembourg after WWI armistice.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Echternach, Luxembourg
February 22, 1919

Dear Ones ALL
Since reading today’s mail, I’ll never forgive Bill Hohenzollern if I don’t get back by the middle of June. By the way, Mother, this cancels the necessity for answering my “Confidential Note.” Don’t you all think I’m a pretty keen kid. Now Sister, do not blame Mother for in case you didn’t see what she wrote it was only a remark wondering if she could get away to Aunt Nellie’s Birthday Party?!?! Of course I was crazy for more information, for while I had hardly even thot of the possibility before reading that, the first thought that came to me was “I wonder.” But having not even a ghost of a reason to think I was right I searched the letters all carefully and found not even a hint. Then I thot I was probably crazy but occasionally a little bird seemed to whisper, “you're right, you're right,” and then when I read Susan’s letters of the last of Jan suggesting a secret, of course I knew my hunch was right, tho I rushed frantically on to her Birthday letter to get verification in her own dear words. Now I know I’ve got to get home to celebrate the Birthday Parties – How’s that? Oh, folks – you don’t know how proud and glad I am. I feel just like I did a little over a year ago when sister let me in on advance dope of March 12, 1918. Herman, I hope you won’t be jealous or vain either one if I say that the only thing which can make me happier than when I got you for a brother-in-law, will be the safe arrival of a little niece or nephew.

Sister, I’m sure glad to be let in on this too, and as luck would have it the news came just when we were preparing for the usual kind of an Army Holiday plus homesickness & Spring fever. Now in spite of the preparation necessary for the coming inspection, and the work to do, and the rain etc., etc., I’m feeling as cozy and happy as its possible to feel “On this side of the Pond,” when you want to be “On the Other side of the Pond.” Compree?

I think this letter will mean quite a bit to you, but if it is censored very close they will have me up on the medical carpet examining me for Insanity. Oh! Well, probably that is the only grounds I could get a discharge on at present!

Got a letter from Mayme Finnican today too. As I just sent her a rather bum letter telling her I wished she would write, you had better tell her I got it next time you see her, but that I’m just as anxious to get an answer to this last one I sent. I also received Aunt Nellie’s letter, which I’ll try to answer soon.

All I can really say about when we will get home is that things look as bright now as they ever did for us to hit there by the 4th of July. And believe me, you bet if I’m in the US I sure will make an effort to be Home. The longer I wait the more things to celebrate seems to pop up. I guess you’ll have to fat up three or four “calves.”

So my letters prove “intensely interesting.” That is consoling but I’m afraid the General Public will not or rather would not appreciate it. Ha! Ha! Bet if I really did write something good you would all die of delight. By the way, what is the latest news from Ed Schultz. And how is his mother. You know there is a little hitch between the two arms of service, especially the Great Lakes Training Boys and the Army fellows over here. The best name I’ve heard applied to them yet came out this week remarking on them as “Ladies Home Companions.” Of course we realize that many of them really wanted to see some service, but so many of them squeezed into that as a bomb proof job to escape the draft and then were coddled in Chicago during the war that it gets under our skin a little to see the Hero’s praised for the “Terrible Battle of Great Lakes” as we call it. And for every enlisted man you see in an advertisement, or posing by some fair damsel on a Magazine Cover you see forty sailors. There is a little element of truth and irony in it at that for as far as most of the Great Lakes Gobs go, that is about all they did. However, I’d like to know what Ed’s address now is and I’ll try to drop him a line as he doubtless has worked hard. I dropped his mother a card from Aix-les-Baines. Hope she received it OK.

A couple of Dutchmen just came in with a pass to Germany to be vic’d and I had to trail off down to the town Majors with them, but in spite of the rain I was even whistling when I came back all because your letters had made me so happy. If this one to you could only spread as much joy I would sure be glad I wrote it, but I’m having a lot of fun writing it anyway. (Now there’s more reason than ever to be very careful of yourselves so I’ll leave it up to the Webers to keep good tab on the Sherwoods and vice versa.)

(Feb 23rd, 1919)
Just got that far when I had to stop as per usual. But here we go again on a beautiful sunny Sunday morning, the sun fairly blazing down on me thru the open window of the office. So I’ll just send my love along with him as the moon hasn’t showed up lately. Say, you nearly ruined me. I went to bed last nite at about eleven P.M. and then I started to think about your letters and going home, etc. and before I knew it I was going over and over the trip from Echternach clear back home to that cool white bed. Bet I made the whole trip at least 20 times, never twice the same. And you have gone and busted one of my fondest hopes. With my little sister threatening maternity, and a mother with heart trouble, how do you suppose I’m going to dare try to surprise you. No, that is another busted bubble. But guess there wouldn’t be much chance anyway as Chicago will probably advertise our return enough. But of course don’t expect me until you hear from me even then as it takes about two weeks to muster out after we hit camp. Gee I’m raving as tho I was there already and there is no chance that I can see to get to Chicago before June 15th or so.

Love to you all again & again

Corp. Geo Sherwood
108th US Engineers
American Exp. Forces

(Censored by) C. L. Thompson
Capt. 108th Engrs
Amer. Ex F

Greeting the Saints on All Hallows Eve

Six days ago I was standing in a golden carpet of fallen leaves and looking at the resting places of my great-great-great-great-great Grandfather Church Tabor and his wife's mother, Jane Steel. A few hours after that I also visited a few miles away the final resting place of my Grandmother Elizabeth (Betsy) Steel Tabor. The first two rest in a large cemetery in South Hero, Vermont next to two of his grandchildren, Church Tabor Healy and Sally Drusilla Healy, children of his son-in-law and daughter Nathaniel and Jane Tabor Healy. Church Tabor had reportedly died in a house fire in January of 1835. The story is that he got out of the burning building, but then tried to save some things and died in the attempt. Not surprisingly, the ephitaph on his marker reads, "Be ye also ready for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." It is obvious why those particular words were selected. Church's mother-in-law rests next to him. She passed away on September 15, 1821. The words at the bottom of her stone are less legible, but appear to read, "Depart my friend wipe off your tears. Here I must lie til Christ appears."

We then drove to the top of North Hero Island and back over to the mainland to W Swanton on Hog Island. We had read in a history of South Hero that there was a private Tabor Cemetery there and that was where Elizabeth was buried. We found her there in the quiet place, buried next to her son, James Madison Tabor and his wife Mary. She had lived until July 10, 1845. On her stone the comforting words, "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord."

I am so blessed to have had so many men and women in my ancestry who have loved the Lord and who have lived their lives with faith in God and who have faced death with the same faith that they lived. When standing before the stone of Jane Steel, I thought of those who had followed who had faithfully shared their love of Jesus with the next generation.

On this All Hallow's Eve, I want to thank Jane Steel, Church and Betsy Tabor, Nathaniel and Jane Tabor Healy, Robert and Rosina Healy Richardson, David and Rosina Jane Richardson Stevens, Will and Ella Jane Stevens Atwater Sherwood, Herman and Susan Sherwood Weber, and my dear parents Bob and Bernadine Weber (she's still here) and all the other aunts, uncles and cousins of long ago for their faithfulness is showing to each succeeding generation the amazing love of God.

I look forward to seeing them all when the last trumpet sounds.

Gems of Thought by Susan Sherwood

This is a little tiny booklet -- about 2 X 2 inches, tied together with string. Poem hand written on the little pages. Obviously my grandmother had heard many stories about all the relatives dear to her parents and grandparents and the thought of them surrounding her was not a scary, but a comforting thought. This was probably written around 1905, at least sometime during Susan's elementary years if her handwriting is any indication. I don't know for sure if she wrote this or if she copied it from elsewhere. I couldn't find it on the internet.

1905-0000 – est. date unknown poem by late elementary age Susan Sherwood

Title on front cover:

Gems of Thought

Inside front page:

To mama and papa
From Susie.

Sleep little child
Dream, O mine own!
Winds may be wild
Thou’rt not alone
Mother and sire
Watch o’er thy dream;
Soft burns the fire
Out of its gleam
Back come those eyes
Dead long ago
Back come the sighs,
Laughter and woe!
Round thy small bed
Gathers a host
Drawn from the dead
Each a dear ghost
All of thy race
Watch o’er thy sleep
Breathe on thy face
Benisons deep
Sleep little child,
Dream, O mine own
Winds may be wild
Thou’rt not alone.

Rumor Has It -- George Meets the Love of His Life

This letter was written from Dora to her sister and family, but really was meant for their parents Will and Ella Jane Sherwood and likely Aunt Nellie Thompson as well. Nellie lived in Glendale, but the Sherwoods and the Webers lived on Spring Brook Farm in Kendall, Wisconsin together.

1921-0827 – Dora Sherwood Lindsay to Susan Sherwood Weber

Castle Gate, Utah, Aug 27

Dear Sister. . .
I’m wondering tonight what frame of mind you are all in tonight. I presume you have heard from George and wonder if his letter to you is an un-explanatory as the one we received a day or two ago. He had written it the day after sending yours but we had had no mail for days owing to the widespread wash-outs. Truly we don’t now whether he has committed matrimony or is merely contemplating such a thing but I wrote to them both and asked them to come up and think if they do I may learn the facts. George wrote a beautiful letter which left no doubt that he is very happy and proud. We’ve talked that sort of thing many times and of course after having fallen in love in fifteen minutes and married on the price of the next meal only. Guy and I have always told George that he would meet his fate quite unexpectedly some day and there was no use in figuring it all out in dollars and cents and years. I only hope his experience will be just half as satisfactory as mine has been – he will never regret it if it is.
Guy just called from Price to say he would not be home tonight. He dashed in about 4:30 to say he was going to Sunnyside (40 mi.). The railroad was out and would not be repaired for days so the Sunnyside pay had been unloaded here and an auto load of guards were taking it to Sunnyside. It was a good many thousands in cash and they were taking no chances. I was very glad to hear from him and know they got over without accident or adventure. The country is full of idle, discontented and vicious men and in no place do they gather more than in the vicinity of these big industrial centers, manufacturing, mining, etc. I presume that nowhere could you go into a picture show and see a more varied group than at Helper. One night long ago Guy and I commented upon the fact that every race (color) and dozens of nationalities were presented in the house.
The kiddies are sleeping. It is so seldom that I can get a quiet moment free from all these unless it is a very late hour. After I’ve gotten the two elders to bed, Marjorie usually wakes for a little while, sometimes an hour or so. But then they are all very good babies and we are so happy with them. I do have to laugh at the funny little lock which sticks up on Marjorie’s crown just like her dad’s, and even the wrinkles and creases which match his. It does seem almost too bad she was not a boy since she is so like Guy but now we have known her we would not trade her for all the boys in the world. Besides being long she is a very active little person and at 6 weeks could not keep her feet pinned up. I’d made her dresses all short 20 in (only a few left over pieces being enough and those only to be worn once or twice for associations sake) so now she is out of pinners and in shorts all at once. Her little legs look so cute in hose and booties and she loves to lie and kick – and wiggle and grunt.
I’ve been trying to make some calls for two weeks and every afternoon it rains. The first trains from the east went thro here this morning, just a week out of Denver and tied up at Price unable to get either way. (See clippings). Oh, I failed to mention that near neighbors who have known Atha all her life say she is a very sweet girl.
Good night now, Lovingly
Dora

In Honor of Barb - self-explanatory to her!

July 31, 1921

Dear Folks: - I know I’ll not finish but perhaps can make a beginning before Guy comes home or Marjorie wakes for a late lunch as she usually does about 11 PM. She is so good we scarcely know we have a baby in the house. Mrs. Thomas will help me wash and general clean up Tuesday otherwise I find the work no great drag. Am so strong again. I’ve had lots of company ever since baby came which has taken some time but has been a great joy to me too. I don’t see how any one has pep to go out this hot weather. Did I tell you that the club gave me chain and locket for baby. They have usually sent flowers etc., but we like the other better. Every one has been so lovely to me. Oh, you asked so many questions. Marjorie was born July 16th, length 24 inches, weight a little more than 7 lbs after subtracting clothes. She looks a lot more like her daddy than either of the others. Has quite a lot of dark hair, quite the usual number of features generally. A few more than average dimples and a heavenly disposition. Both her sisters think she is the most wonderful. Yesterday after I washed Frances for her nap, she climbed up by baby and went to sleep. Margaret will sit and hold her till the busy little muscles must ache but it’s her baby

Monday night – another few minutes before bed time. We had such a very lovely letter from you today. We do enjoy your letters. So sorry you had to wait for our letters. IT seems simply impossible to write when the children are awake. They always discover me and want to help till I give it up. You spoke of scarcity of fruit. Some kinds have not been plentiful here but I never do put up small fruits. “Did” a bushel of berries. The canning fever has not struck me. When Mrs. Davis mentioned apple jelly I hated the idea. Believe I’m getting soft. This summer I did not seem able to care whether or not we raised any garden if we got a few flowers. Guy has done everything outside. And inside I didn’t even want to bother to think what we should eat when I did not have to cook. Worst of it is, it’s pure laziness for I’m so well in every way. When doctor was here he spoke of my being in such good flesh and everyone nearly speaks of how well I look. Won’t it be awful if I get fat and lazy with the years. Horrors! I’ll lose a perfectly good husband if I act like that.

Friday, Aug 5th. Guy went to Provo to make proof on the 480 A [acres]. You see we did not have to live on it, just put 1.25 per A improvements on it. At present prices the fencing quickly ate up the required $600. Things surely have changed the past year. Why a year ago it was almost impossible to hire a man to do anything now there are hundreds of idle men everywhere. Things seem to be picking up in the camps tho – mines are running 5 days a week for the first time in months. I’ve seen George only once since baby came. She was only a few days old when he came up for some things. He was then working for a ranchman near Woodside and told us to forward mail there. We have done so – but he does not favor us with any remarks. He seems to think no one need worry if they don’t hear of his “taking off.”

Honestly, I’m happier about George this summer than I’ve been at any time since he came out here. While he never did anything to worry us, in common with so many of the young men of the day, both those who had been in the army and those who had been making a great deal in industries, he found it very hard to get his poise again. He realized it and talked of it and even when he had filed on the land he did not at first seem to have that nerve to take a long chance and win in spite of odds. But that trip to Pueblo helped him. He says he feels more like himself again, that in some way conditions there were quite as horrible as anything he saw in Europe. The counter shock of that – meeting different people and realizing more how much the mass of people are up against to begin to succeed – etc., has done worlds of good. We older people had gotten ours in the world of hard knocks and were seasoned to bear the unbalancing effects of the past 7 or 8 years. We can’t blame the younger ones if it hits them harder.

Well I must close. Nearly bed time – Love to “you all” from “us all.”

As ever, Dora

Don’t forget to give our love to the Glendale family.

A letter from Dora while in Vermont

I'm so excited about finding a new distant cousin that I'm running around in circles wondering what I should post next! As I have been very random recently, this is a good trend I believe.
In honor of finding (nearly) a descendent of Aunt Dora, I am posting a letter from Dora to her mother from 1904. To my new cousins perhaps surprise, Dora was engaged then to a cousin Albert Richardson at that time. Have never figured out what happened so that they didn't get married, but it all worked out years later when she met and married Guy Lindsey -- partly because of a hotel fire. But I'm getting ahead of myself :-)!

But back to Vermont (and to the fun of being able finally to share her letters with her great-grandchildren). All her earlier relatives were from Peacham, Topsham, Groton and other nearby Vermont towns. She had gone up there to teach school for awhile. . .here is one of her letters home:

Peacham, VT, Sept 27, 1904

Dear Mother,

I will write you a few lines to let you know that I survived my operation and am getting on nicely. I have just had six inches amputated from the length of my hair and did not take ether strange as it may seem.

Why don’t you write to me? Don’t you know that I have worried nearly crazy about you. Not a line from any one for three weeks. Or are you so sick you could not write? If you can’t write, have some of the rest write. Just a line, for you know how anxious I am over my dear mother. Did you think dear that I would not come to you if you needed me? No, indeed. Only that if you were not so sick that you really needed me that I had better stay here awhile. I have looked every night for a letter from you and have put off writing hoping to hear from you.

I have written to grandma all about Mrs. Ferguson and how sick she is and she will tell you about it. I keep pretty busy but also keep pretty well. My stomach has not troubled me for several weeks. Every one is very kind to me. Mrs. F asked me one day what young people I knew and when I began to innumerate she exclaimed, “Why you are in the cream of society.”

I will have to tell you about the “Thank You” social given by the C. E. last night. Perhaps you can use the idea there. Each girl was requested to bring two aprons, preferably kitchen aprons. After the ice was broken by a game or two, every lady and gentleman was requested to don an apron and the fun began. Every time any one speaks to you or you to the, you must precede the reply by Thank You. For example, if I ask, “How are you feeling this evening, Miss B.” she replies “Thank you, I have a bad cold.” And I say “Thank you, I am very sorry.” If any one fails to say thank you the party to whom they are speaking gives them their apron and goes without. Every ones object is to get rid of their apron and not get another one. At the end of an hour judge and police take their places and every person having one or more aprons on his person is fined two cents each for them. Of course some will have several and some none, but you may be sure there is no lull in the conversation.

The played the vacant chair. As many chairs as players are placed in a circle. There is one vacant chair and one person in the middle. Each person is responsible for keeping the chair at the right filled, hence when A slips into the vacant chair at his right, B slips into A’s and C into B’s before the person in the middle can get it. If B fails to get A’s chair when it is vacated before the person in the center takes it, B must take his place in the Center. As Sue Williams said, the boys like to play it because sometimes the girls inadvertently sit in their laps and possibly the girls like it for the same reason.

Albert and I have not been to St. Johnsbury yet but will go tomorrow if it is a fair day.

It is time for me to fire up and get supper. I wish you could taste the dandy cake I made this morning. “Self-praise.”

Do you all write to me now. You little people let me know how mother is won’t you? And mother, you may as well tell me just how you are for I shall know anyway.

Oh, how I should love to be with you all. And yet I am happy and contented as anyone could ask for haven’t I my boy? The boys are both very good to me. A lady whom I met not long ago herself the mother of two young men, said to me, “Your cousins seem always to think of you first in every thing and they always speak so loyally of you that I know you exert a refining influence over them." She could have said nothing to please me more.

You will pardon me if I am conceited in writing such things.

Oh, my Supper!!!!

Love to each more than I can tell of heart yearning.
Dora

EXTENDED FAMILY - HOW EXCITING

How fun! This morning I happened to scroll down to see if anyone had left any comments (I usually don't because there usually aren't :-) ) and WOW a distant relative has surfaced! And even more exciting, on the side of the family that I didn't have any email connections to send letters to. I've been typing up old family letters and sending them out to a group of extended family to read. In honor of this exciting discovery, I'm delighted to share photos of Dora at 5 months and Ella Jane at 16 years.

Great Great Great Uncle Henry C. Richardson

I'm amazed at all the family history that I've discovered in the past few years. Uncle Henry was in the Civil War for nearly four years and was injured twice. I was also pleased to discover this photo of him.

Henry C Richardson was the son of Robert and Rosina (Healy) Richardson of Topsham, Vermont. He was born November 20, 1838 and died Aug 15, 1910.

Rosina, his mother, wrote a poem for Henry when he left to go off to war, although I don't know that she actually gave it to him; she may have just written it for her own comfort. Henry enlisted in the Army in December 1861 to fight in the Civil War; so this was likely written before December of 1861. He came home in 1864. He was married three times, his first wife died within a couple of years, but they did have two children. He then marrried Lydia Whitehill who was his dear love and next to whom he is buried. They had six more children, Robert, William, Mary, George, Margaret and Albert.

To Henry

Pen can’t portray nor Language tell
How hard it is to say farewell
Yet your Country calls and I bid you go
A Mother’s grief you will never know

Shun temptations, be of courage strong
I trust the conflict will not be long
Choose your associates; bind your Bible to your heart
And from its Holy precepts ne’er depart

And though on earth we meet no more
May we united be on that blessed shore
Where parting, sorrow, pain and woe
In that happy home we never shall know.

A Mother’s prayers shall ascend each day
To God to guide you on your way
And if it is “His will” may you return again my son
If not enable us to say “Thy Will be done.”

GOTTA LOVE THAT GLOBAL WARMING

The Pacific Northwest is doing it's part to show that weather happens and it doesn't mean the sky is falling. Chicken Little had nothing on the news media, that's for sure. I am all for recycling and not wasting the resources of the earth, taking care and being responsible. However, it seems to me that people fall on one side of the argument or the other -- either we believe God is real and we can count on him to take care of us and watch over us, or we think we are inhabitants of a random, impersonal cosmic mutation that can disappear as easily as it showed up. After all the hype of global warming, now changed to "climate change" to take in any variation, we've enjoyed 4 and 3/4 inches of frozen rain during our spring. I opt for God having a sense of humor when it comes to weather. In 1919, I read yesterday in a letter from my great-uncle, Montana "burned up" -- it was so hot all the crops died and there was no work for his friend who joined him in North Dakota to thresh. Weather is weather and we can always count on it to change. And people are being diagnosed with eco-anxiety. I opt for trust in the Lord. Attached are visions of global warming in Seattle area on April 17, 2008 :-).

A Great-Great-Great Grandmother's Thoughts

I came across a poem written by my grandmother's great-grandmother, in her own handwriting. It was definitely written after 1855 and before 1872 which was the year when she passed away. It is likely it was written around 1871. She was married to Robert Richardson born in 1805 to 1889. He was the son of Robert Fletcher Richardson - "the two Richards."

Her children:
Rosina Jane Richardson Stevens 1835-1912
Mary Elizabeth Richardson Welch and later Dexter 1839-1879
Robert Fletcher Richardson 1832-1922
Nathaniel Healy Richardson 1837-1908
Henry Carlton Richardson 1838-1910
Evalina (Nellie) Irene Richardson Thompson 1847-1926
Cornelius Warren Richardson 1834-1835
Coraline Lorane Richardson 1845-1846


A Mother’s Thoughts

Silent and lone, Silent and lone
Where, tell me where, are my little ones gone
Who used to be playing about my knee
With their noisy mirth and boisterous glee
Who littered the carpet and misplaced the chairs
And scattered their playthings all unawares?
Who called for their supper with eager shout
And while it was getting, ran in and out
Who kept all the apples and nuts from spoiling
And never saved jackets and pants from soiling
Had ever a want and ever a will
That added a care to my heart – until
I sometimes sighed for the time to come
When they’d be big and go out from home.
Silent and lone, silent and lone
Where, tell me where, are my little ones gone?
There’s no little faces to wash to night
No little trouble for mother to right
No little black eyes to be rocked to sleep
No little playthings to put up to keep
No little garments to hang on the rack
No little tales to tell, no nuts to crack
No little trundle bed brimful of rollick
Calling for mother to settle the frolic
No little soft lips to press me with kisses
Oh! Such a sad, lonely evening as this is!
No little voices to shout with delight
“Good night, dear mama, good night, good night!”
Silent the house is, no little ones here
To startle a smile, or chase back a tear.
Silent and lone, silent and lone
Where, tell me where, are my little ones gone.
It seemeth but yesterday since they were young
Now they’re scattered the world’s paths among
Little ones, loving ones, playful ones, all
Who went when I bade, and came at my call.
Have you deserted me? Will ye not come
Back to your mother’s arms, back to your home.
Silent and lone, silent and lone
Where tell me where are my little ones gone.
Useless my cry is! Why do I complain?
They’ll be my little ones never again!
Can the great oaks to the acorns return
The broad rolling stream flow back to the byrne?
The mother call childhood back to her knee
That in manhood went forth the strong and the free?
Nay, Nay no true mother would ask for them back
Her work nobly done, their firm tramp on life’s track
Will come like an organ note lofty and clear
To lift up her soul and her spirit to cheer
And though the times fall when silent and lone
She’ll know it is best they are scattered and gone
Silent and lone, silent and lone
Thy will, O my Father, not my will be done.

Rosina Healy Richardson

Retrospective on 1871

Rosina Richardson to Rosina Jane Stevens. Rosina Richardson lived in Vermont; her daughter and family had moved to Elgin, Minnesota.

East Topsham, Jan 9th, 1872

My dear Children,

Yours bearing date Jan 2nd is before me and I hasten to reply, am sorry you are not feeling well, also sorry for David’s head. We had hoped he had fully recovered from his injuries last spring, hope all are better now.

The year 1871 with its many memorable events has passed as have many, very many before it, to return no more forever. Yet the scenes that have been enacted in the great drama of life will be indelibly imprinted upon our memories, how much of joy or sorrow has been our lot to bear is but known to ourselves. It is a true saying that “each heart knows its own sorrow”. It is well it is so ordered. Why should we reveal to man our griefs and heartaches? Would they alleviate them? Would they truly sympathize with us? Would they mitigate our sorrows? Surely not. Then let us lay our burdens at Jesus’ feet. He has a balm for every wound. He will bind up the brokenhearted. He is the great physician of souls, having suffered Himself he knows how to sympathize with us in our afflictions and He will never leave nor forsake them that put their trust in Him. He is ever ready to bestow upon us every needed blessing. Where upon earth can we find so true a friend both in prosperity and adversity. Earthly friends may cling to us in the sunshine of prosperity but let clouds arise and adverse fortune overtake us and where are they? They have deserted us for those upon whom fortune has been more lavish of his gifts and we are left to struggle alone as best we can. The dearest earthly ties may be severed and those we have trusted most prove false, then let us be thankful we have a Haven of rest to which we can flee amid all the storms of life. Joy and sorrow are ever in our pathway through this vale of tears. Still let us ever be thankful to the Giver of all good for our many blessings and strive to be reconciled to the allotments of pain, in silence bearing our trials with Christian firmness, trusting in God always “who doeth all things well” and if we are faithful we shall in God’s good time moor our bark in the Haven of rest where all is peace and joy ----.

Our healths are not very good this winter. My cough is better “old age is creeping on apace” and we feel its effects sensibly. How I wish I could see you. The time, oh so long since you left home. When, oh when shall I have that blessed privilege? “Echo answers When.” Our friends in this place are usually well. Eva’s health is better. We spent Christmas with them, had a Turkey and Chicken supper, plumb pudding and various other fixings. Eva says he’s very pleasant since that time. So don’t worry your precious life away, but hope for the best.

It has been quite sickly in this section of late. Canker Rash is prevailing and in very many cases proves fatal. Quite a number of children have died. There have been a number of aged people in our town that have died recently. I will mention J F Teague, Amos Farland and John Lang, father to James Lang. A Mrs. Smith, wife of Henry Smith (son of Bud Smith) died last Friday leaving a young babe. She had not been married a year.

We have had very cold weather this fall and winter snow is quite deep. We had a letter from Nat’s folks recently. All well. Julia wrote Henry talked of coming after his children. Said she hoped he would not take Carrie. Mr. Kasson's* folks want her adopted by law so she can inherit their property. They are very fond of her. Why don’t Henry write. I wish he would write oftener.

Give love to them each – I want to see you all more than I can express,

Your mother as ever,

R. R.


Jane, I received our magazine last Tuesday; will send it to you soon. Much love – all write – write often – to all.

Just received a letter from Br. J (Joseph Warren Healy), he sailed for Europe this 6th of this month. He paid all he owed for dear Mother’s board. Please remember us to Mr. Wight (or Mr. Wright’s) folks.

How many changes!

* Carrie was adopted by Mr. & Mrs. Kasson.  I couldn't read the name in this letter, but later found a clipping of the funeral of Mrs. Kasson.  Carrie married Ambrose B Mitchell.  Her sister Cora was not officially adopted but grew up with Nathaniel and Julia Richardson.  Family members always knew where they were and would talk about the two girls periodically but without the details I needed to be able to find them for the longest time!!

Birthday greetings from 1893

Found among the letters kept by my grandmother and great-grandmothers,
a birthday note for Ella Jane Sherwood (nee' Stevens) to her parents. Ella Jane was in her early 40's at this time.

1893
May 1st and 5th
Greetings
To
Dear Father and Mother

I write you a birthday letter
Filled with hope and wish sincere
That with more of peace and gladness
You may each be crowned each year;
That Time, as with him you journey,
May touch you with gentle hand;
That friends may around you gather
A true and steadfast band;
That the love of God will make more smooth
Your way as it westward leads
That no day shall fleeting leave you
Unblessed by some loving deeds:
Deeds that to you from dear ones
Are signs of some loving thought.
Deeds that you do for others

With their double blessings fraught

WORDS TO GROW BY

The following was written for my great-grandmother by her grandmother. It is not dated, but likely written between 1867 when Ella was adopted by David and Rosina (Richardson) Stevens and before 1872 when great-great-great Grandmother Richardson passed away. Rosina Richardson was the daughter of Jane Healy mentioned previously.

I see their smiles and can almost touch their hands, in spite of the more than a dozen decades that separate us in time.

An Acrostic for Ella from her Grandmother [Rosina Healy] Richardson


E – Every word of God is pure.
L – Let thy garments be always white
L – Love your enemies, love those that curse you
A – And let the beauty of God be upon you.


J – Judge not that you be not judged
A – Ask and it shall be given unto you
N – No man can serve two masters
E – Enter ye into the strait gate


S – Seek the Lord and His strength, seek his face ever more
T – Take therefore no thought for tomorrow
E – Enter not into the path of the wicked
V – Verily I say unto you, they have their reward
E – Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit
N – Not unto us O Lord, but unto thy name be glory
S – So shall the knowledge of wisdom be unto thy soul. When though has found it then there shall be a reward.

R ------

Jane Tabor Healy, wife of Nathaniel Healy

It's fun doing old geneology stuff and looking back in time. Today I was looking at the 1870 census and there she was, the oldest relative for whom I have personal documentation (a letter from her daughter to family talking about her death). It's amazing to look at those old census sheets and see the name of a family member. There she was, 84 years old, with death coming in just a few more months, but as yet unknown to her. She had to have a general idea, however, because she was up there in years. She was my great-great-great-great grandmother, born in 1786. She lived until 1870. Her daughter, my great-great-great grandmother only lived another 19 months after her mother died. My great-great grandmother, her daughter, lived until 1912 and her daughter Ella until 1925. My father was two years old when she passed away. I feel that I am reaching back in time, hearing their voices in the old letters I've come to own. They were strong and hearty women, strong physically and strong in faith in the God who had always proven faithful to them. What a heritage they given me, handing it down over the years and the generations.

God Speed, Kathy Albright

Two days ago an acquaintance of mine (not really a friend, but someone whose company I had enjoyed over the short time I'd known her before she was diagnosed with melanoma) passed away after a year and a half of illness. She will be sorely missed by her family and her friends. She will be missed by those of us who didn't know her well and were inspired by her heart for the Lord and her love for others. It's so sad when someone has to leave us so early in their life. Death is so much easier to accept when a person has had a long, industrious and successful life, well loved and a pillar of their family than when they leave small children and work seemingly only half done.

Fortunately, we can count on God knowing what he's doing. We don't know what the future will hold, but he does. I think of my great grandmother's first husband, drowned attempting to rescue his friend, leaving her and his less than a year old daughter. She, Ella Jane, was so devastated that her in-laws (with whom they had been living) said they had to watch her to make sure she didn't wander off and injure herself. She was beyond grief. But years later she married my great grandfather and my grandmother was born about twelve years after her first husband died. This isn't to say that the death of Elmer Atwater was a blessing, but without it I wouldn't be writing this post. Life is strange and only understood from the end looking back. Do I wish her first husband had died? No. Am I glad she married my great grandfather? Well, yes!

An old testament professor I had in college years ago said that the Old Testament Israelites had a concept that they looked at the past and walked backward into the future (figuratively) because the future was unknown and could not be seen. Jeremy and family, I hope you can see Kathy, your dearly loved, clearly through your tear-filled eyes as you look into the past and that you can keep trusting the Father of Lights as you walk backwards into the coming days. My heart is sad for you. There are no words at a time like this.

Having to Deal with Bull Puckey

Honestly, it's hard to believe what some people will do. Three years ago my daughter signed up for a "black belt club" at a local, and perhaps to remain unnamed Taekwondo school that was named for a person and is now named for a large West Coast city. Anyway, first we had one daughter and later another sign up for classes. The second daughter got hooked by his classy "black belt club" which required a three year contract. Should have realized he was pretty slick then since there was no "out " of the three years. We set it up so that we would pay it off in 18 months rather than the three years. This gave us a somewhat significant discount and got the pain overwith (or so we thought) in a timely manner. We gave her the "fulfill your responsibilities" lecture and off we went.

She attended the classes for about two years. Then she began getting more sporadic. She got so she hated the testing. The teacher is a bit snide and sarcastic when they don't know all the Korean words or faltered on their poomse -- form. Part of the time she deserved the reprimand if not the tone, so we weren't always sympathetic. After all, she does tend to be a bit lazy and it did take some discipline.

Finally the last six months she just refused to go. Fine with us. We'd gotten most of the benefit of it and her interests had changed. And just a couple of months ago, I was going through the file drawer and saw the Taekwondo file and shredded it. After all, we were done with that.

Mid March I was wondering where my bank statement was and was getting a little concerned. Great - probably got delivered to the wrong box. Finally the husband brought it in -- it had been left for several days in the truck. So I got right on balancing the checkbook when what to my wondering eyes should appear but ANOTHER bank deduction for that same old stupid Taekwondo school. It had been 18 months since I'd last seen that and, why, just a month ago I'd been reveling in the fact that that was all done.

So off to the bank I went to discover that not only had he deducted the fee once, but he had deducted it twice. Yes, for some reason he thought he could just mosey right on into my bank account without so much as a by-your-leave. Needless to say, I reversed both of those charges. It takes a lot of gall to just start making deductions within so much as a thought of putting the whole family's finances at risk by us unknowingly bouncing checks all over the city. It makes a difference when you think you have $450 in the bank and in reality you have about 60.

Needless to say I was a bit peeved. I left a message on his voice mail and the next day he "returned my call." Obviously he must do this quite often. No, not one word of "oh, my, how distressing for you - I'm sure we can work this out. Oh no, none of that. Just a humor-laden voice lecturing me about the contract and my personal responsibility. I couldn't believe it. He was like something out of a nightmare. He said he would send a copy of the contract by registered mail. I said I would come and get a copy and that was when he said that if I came over he would call the police because I was threatening him. Obviously he has been coached by a slick lawyer, or if he does this on his own, he has all sorts of potential psychological diagnoses.
I hadn't threatened him. I was talking loudly and quickly and I was definitely mad at him. There was no way I couldn't be mad at him. I mean really, he'd only taken to debiting money out of my account without my knowledge. I always taken that with equinamity - doesn't everyone?

When I told him that I had reveresed those payments, he then had the gall to tell me I would go to collections. But my hackles really got up with his accusation of threatening him. So I wrote out the whole scenario and gave a copy to the police; sent a copy to the city licensing and sent a copy to the better business bureau. I'll be sending follow up letters to each regardless of how this turns out so they can hear "the rest of the story." I wasn't threatening him; I was protecting myself.

I'm talking to an attorney tomorrow. Oh, he did send the contract -- which has a little "renewal" wording at the end (not initialled, not pointed out; just snuck in there without so much as a by-your-leave) and a little letter letting us know how much we have to pay to get out of this little kerfuffle. Maybe I'll get stuck paying him something; maybe not. But I'm making sure that when this is over I'm completely done with him, hense the attorney.

But I'm comforted by several things. All of my friends are now aware of what a creepy businessman he is. Fortunately for him, most of them don't have kids the age of his school. One works in an office of a local high school -- and they all talk; one works in the library at another local high school; another works for a large medical clinic and the last works for Snohomish County health. Regardless of how much money he gets, it won't be worth the ill-will that he has engendered. What goes around comes around -- if he treats people this way, I'm sure that others will treat him that way too. I had another neighbor who had told me he was corrupt, but back then I had defended him. (I'm feeling insecure about my judgement of character).

I'm attempting to maintain a godly attitude through this and I must say it is hard. But I try to keep the long range in mind. We're told to pray for our enemies, and although I didn't think I had any, apparently I do have and this is my opportunity to practice this. Not much fun. But then on the other hand, the Bible also says, "what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul." Obviously he's a long ways from a repentant life. Perhaps in his effort to gain the whole world he is sacrificing his soul. So, I'll try to remember that it's not worth his soul spending eternity in hell and so I'll pray that he sees the error of his ways.

So, what if I'm stuck with a stupid payment to him that could be much better used towards my kids tuition, the carpet my house needs, the new windows that I would like to replace, the car that will need to take the place of my old "standby" that has 210,000 miles on it. This too shall pass. I just hope that it passes quickly. And if he ends up with any of my money, I hope that "it gives him as much peace as we had while he was trying to wrest it from our grasp."

Water Under the Bridge

It's over, the job of almost eleven years, is past. My last day was December 31st. It was almost surreal knowing that not only was I being sent out the door, but that in just a couple more months the whole thing was in the past. New Hope is no more. Yesterday I took cookies to the final five and to my delight was also able to take my chair home with me. Yes, the chair and I have been together for a long time, so we've melded into a comfortable unit. It's almost like old times this morning, sitting in it and typing away. But it's not old times. The door is shut and the keys have been turned in.

It's only fitting that yesterday it began snowing. Sort of like heaven was covering up the ickiness. Burying the body so to speak under the beautiful snow.

It's history now. No use crying over the spilled milk as they say; it can't be rebottled or put to good use. It's water under the bridge. But a travesty it was.

The Reason for the Season

This was one of our best Christmas’. It just sort of fell together, rather than being planned. We originally planned to go to Portland to be with family, which we usually do and enjoy, but this year we were invited to friends for Christmas Eve dinner. This complicated our plans to travel out of town, and due to the girls rarely getting to see their friends, we decided to accept the invitation and adapt our plans.

This left Saturday free for a little more shopping and gift wrapping and the belated discovery that if we weren’t going to go join family for Christmas, that we had to come up with a complete dinner on our own. Hmmmm. So off we went shopping and planning.

Sunday morning we had a short service in the morning with many great carols as a part of the worship. Sunday evening we went back again for a Christmas Eve candlelight communion service which was beautiful and reverent. Directly after that we arrived at our friends home where the evening was full of good food, laughter, games, conversation and relaxing around the fire. Coffees with eggnog and candlelit conversations were the ingredients of wonderful memories. We made a late trip home, helped Santa fill stockings and finally fell gratefully into bed in the early minutes of Christmas morning.

Christmas morning early (but later in the day than a normal working day wake-up call) brought the hurried capture of the pet mouse who had escaped from cage and who brought him/herself to the attention to the dog sleeping in the master bedroom. Fortunately for the kid owner and the mouse, the dog did not make the capture, mom did; and shortly all were back in bed again hoping for a few more coveted hours of sleep.

Later morning brought breakfast, homemade eggnog lattes, the reading of the Christmas story and our traditional reading, by dad, of “The Littlest Angel.” As usual, the parents snuffled through the end of the sweet story. Presents followed and each person had something they were delighted to have received. ( I am trying to stretch out reading my new Tony Hillerman book. . .trying.)

After presents we quickly threw the turkey together and put it in the oven to cook while we went to watch The Nativity, a new movie about the birth of Jesus. We spent nearly two hours getting a glimpse back in time of what life was like for people in Israel two thousand years ago. Wonderful movie. . .ahhh.

After the movie we jumped into hurried preparations to get the rest of dinner caught up with the turkey when we realized our neighbors next door were home alone for the evening. We made an impromptu invitation for them to join us since there is always more than enough food to go around at a holiday dinner and soon were were six at dinner rather than four. More food, laughter and stories and another fun evening swiftly passed.

Tomorrow life goes on as usual with myriad responsibilities and tasks. But today life was filled with one memorable and satisfying hour after another.

Best of all, we had time to remember and enjoy all day the Person who gives all of life meaning – the baby in a manger to whom shepherds ran in amazement to see and wise men crossed vast miles to worship. And tomorrow we wake to Him in our lives just as usual – no longer as a baby, but as the Messiah of God who came once two thousand years ago, and Who really will come again at the end of the age whenever it turns out to be.

If it’s hard to believe He’s coming again, remember that it’s always been amazing that he was here the first time. But he was and the world has never been the same. His love and purposes have never changed and we are glad to welcome Him into our home and lives tomorrow as well as today.

Merry Christmas – God bless us every one!

Face to Face Introduction

Finally I was able to get a photo of my little friend at the feeder. Not really close enough, but with digital zoom, close enough to see almost clearly. He'll let me walk much closer, but not with camera. I was surprised this time that he let me take the photos from the top of the deck. I also discovered that he seems to have found a new little hidey-hole in the perrenial bed. I wasn't sure what would happen when the neighbors cut down their tree. Perhaps he has a little snuggly spot in that corner of our yard. At least we don't have to worry about predators reading the blog and knowing where to look!

Visual Bird Feast

OK, I admit I was a little depressed sounding on my last post. Since then time has gone by. We had a great time in Wisconsin over Thanksgiving, visiting my husbands family. Good visits with family, safe trip, interesting conversations -- things have happened and I'm not feeling so down about the election. Oh, do I think it is a bad thing, yes. Do I think it is quite the end of the world, no. Do I continue to know that God is still in control, yes. Do I wish things were different? Of course.

But now we've had a major snow and my interests have narrowed. My little hummingbird is back again and since we've had three days with freezing temperatures, we're back in business of providing breakfast (and today lunch and dinner) transfers from frozen nectar to warm and drinkable nectar. Today the temperature never got above 26 degrees F, so I had to rotate nectar containers several times.

I really thought about sleeping in this morning, but knew that by 7:15 my little friend would be waiting. And he was. A gorgeous little male Anna's hummingbird. May be the same as last year when we thought the Annas was an immature.

We also have a plethora of other delightful birds. A Hairy or Downy woodpecker (didn't make specific identification), bunches of juncos, chicadees (both black capped and rufous sided), at least a half dozen goldfinches with just a hint of yellow left and house finches as well. Usually they are plentiful at the feeders in the morning and evening. But with the harsh cold, all were busily eating most of the day.

We even went so far today to move the bird bath from the front yard to the back (complete with heater to keep the water from freezing) so the birds would have water. During the summer they drink from the little fountain, but when the temperatures drop they need sources of water.

Such little things, so much pleasure. A veritable visual feast of flitting feathered friends!
(Photo: My little Anna a few inches from his feeder - Canon 610 with digital zoom)

The Beginning of the End

Well, it is the beginning of the end. Not the beginning of the end of the world, I hope, but the beginning of the end of life as we have known it recently. The Democrats, by lying over and over, have taken over Congress.

Lying? Well, the new candidates they put forward were “conservative” democrats. Ha! The likelihood that they will vote conservatively is probably less than zero.

Lying? Because they use the media – who walk in lockstep with them – to make up “news” that puts conservatives in a bad light. All that brouhaha about Rush Limbaugh making fun of Michael J. Fox -- didn’t happen. I heard the whole thing; he never did, but they couldn’t be bothered to correct the record even though they had two weeks to do it.

Lying? Because to listen to the media, President Bush has done NOTHING good in the past four years. Can’t remember a thing. Everything is his fault even Katrina, Rita and the Tsunami.

Lying? Because all the reports from Iraq are only the bad news. No news about all the great things that have happened both militarily and with the infrastructure. No reports that the troops think we need to finish what we started and do it well.

Lying? Because they said that the President was spying domestically when it was international phone numbers to known terrorist organization members.

Lying? Because as long as they thought they might lose, they were screaming about “voter fraud” but the moment it looks like they win, they are silent.

Lying? Because Nancy Pelosi just said about the war in Iraq that “you can define winning any way you want to.” THAT IS A LIE. If we walk away from Iraq and let Al-Qaeda take over there because the government in place doesn’t have the ability to fight the insurgents alone, then we will see what it looks like when there is a huge bloodbath in Iraq followed by terrorism moving throughout the world.

Lying? Because they believe that by wishing that we could get out of Iraq that that is good enough.

Lying? Because they can’t seriously believe their own words.

If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

What? A Month?? Sheesh. .

What, it's been a month since I posted? Alas, this having to work, while trying to come up with a plan to continue working in another capacity after the first of the year, is a bit challenging. I feel a little manic-depressive (currently called bi-polar - but I actually FEEL manic-depressive and since I don't have a diagnosis, well. . . I'll call it what I want. After all, it's my blog). One minute I'm feeling relatively calm and positive about the future, slightly confident that I can pull off this self-employment stuff. The next observed minute, I'm panicking on the inside and playing minesweeper in an effort to not think about things. Yes, I can do this; no, I won't be able to, I'll crash and burn. . .I'll be a great success, I'll work hard and still have free time, no, I'll never figure this out, wait maybe I'm going about this the wrong way. . .

Nothing wrong with my brain :-)

Ha!

Choosing Your God Wisely (Reprise)

President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, addressed the UN yesterday and ended his speech with the following:

"The Almighty and Merciful God, who is the Creator of the Universe, is also its Lord and Ruler. Justice is His command. He commands His creatures to support one another in Good, virtue and piety, and not in decadence and corruption.
"He commands His creatures to enjoin one another to righteousness and virtue and not to sin and transgression. All Divine prophets from the Prophet Adam (peace be upon him) to the Prophet Moses (peace be upon him), to the Prophet Jesus Christ (peace be upon him), to the Prophet Mohammad (peace be upon him), have all called humanity to monotheism, justice, brotherhood, love and compassion. Is it not possible to build a better world based on monotheism, justice, love and respect for the rights of human beings, and thereby transform animosities into friendship? "I emphatically declare that today's world, more than ever before, longs for just and righteous people with love for all humanity; and above all longs for the perfect righteous human being and the real savior who has been promised to all peoples and who will establish justice, peace and brotherhood on the planet.
"O, Almighty God, all men and women are your creatures and you have ordained their guidance and salvation. Bestow upon humanity that thirsts for justice, the perfect human being promised to all by you, and make us among his followers and among those who strive for his return and his cause. “

This was a prayer in front of the general assembly by a man who doesn’t believe the holocaust happened, but would be quite happy to duplicate it. Ahmadinejad is also a strong believer in the 12th Imam, known as the Mahdi, who was the 12th Shi’ite leader and who disappeared in 941. He is supposed to return at the end of time to bring in a time of Islamic justice. Apparently he is also heralding the end of the world. The disturbing thing about Ahmadinejad is that he firmly believes that since the Mahdi is to bring order out of chaos, and since his job is to pave the way for the Mahdi’s return, that bringing as much chaos along as possible will encourage the Mahdi to return.

Jesus said that in the last days that many would come claiming to be him and that when people said, “he’s out in the desert” to not run out to see. When He returns, Jesus said, everyone would know at the same time.

Truth, lies, truth, lies. Listening to the news will certainly not bring the hearer the answer. Ahmadinejad is praying for the return of his Imam, his hoped-for savior of his world. We too wait for a Savior. The One who didn’t just disappear, but who left the Holy Spirit so that Jesus Himself is always available to us; we are not abandoned. Uhlike the Jesus mentioned in Ahmadinejad prayer, the real Jesus is not just another admirable prophet in a long line, no, He is the Son of God, fully God and fully man. There is no one else like Him anywhere at any time. He is unique. He came because "God so loved the world that He gave His Son."

Jesus also said that the last dayswould be evil before He returned – He compared them to the days of Noah; he said that if the days were not shortened no flesh would be saved; He asked, when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?, and most sobering to me, He said, “because of iniquity, the love of many will grow cold.” I find that last sobering, because sometimes I, because of the constant evil in the world, get tired of caring about whether or not people end up in heaven or hell. Jesus doesn't ask us to bring chaos so He will come, He asks us to share the good news of the gospel before the end finally arrives, to "seek the lost."

Ahmadinejad and I are not looking for the same Messiah. It is easy to read the words of his closing prayer and think that, the 12th Imam is just another representation of the Jewish Messiah, of the Christian Jesus. But it’s not the same. The 12th Imam is a completely different thing, a belief in someone, but not in Jesus Christ. They can not both be true. On the other hand, Jesus and the Jewish Messiah can be the same; He only needs to be recognized.

In the meantime, I need to constantly be on guard to not have my love for the lost “grow cold” and need to have a heart of compassion (although not acceptance) for Ahmadinejad and all like him who believe in a god and a messenger of that god,who is not the Truth.

We are being brought to a place in our world where we have to evaluate and decide. What religion is the truth? What God are we going to follow? It matters.

My Good Neighbors

Three years ago we moved here to our little culdesac and thought that we were just getting a little nicer house (3 bathrooms instead of 1 - yes!) in a little quieter neighborhood. But what we got was dramatically more than that. In our fast-paced, hectic world, we found a great little neighborhood with neighbors that get together for family nights, barbeques, Saturday morning coffee and a helping hand.

I am always thankful for our welcoming little corner of the world. Lots of excitement over the short years. We encourage each other on our deck, floor, carpet remodel projects, watched with great interest the furious speed at which two families redecorated with TLC Trading Spaces.
This summer we spent a week camping together in a mini-culdesac out in the San Juan Islands.

What more does a person need more than the care of God, a loving family, a steaming cup of coffee, a good book, a hot bath and the best set of neighbors in the world. Love Ya L, M, T and J!

The Price of a Lie

This week we saw a movie called Beyond the Gates of Splendor which was about the five missionaries who died attempting to contact the Auca Indians of Equador five decades ago. The movie was basically a documentary of that time and had interviews of the wives of the men who were speared to death as well as their children and colleagues. Those wives and colleagues had later successfully continued the work of sharing the love of Jesus with the Auca's begun by their husband and friends. It was an amazing story but what struck me the most was that the reason they were all speared to death was because one of the first three people they encountered, in order to avoid blame for his own irresponsibility, told the rest of the tribe that the missionaries had come to kill them. The death of the five men, five men with families and children of their own, was all because of one small lie.

One little lie. No wonder one of the ten most important rules for life is "Thou shalt not bear false witness." Satan is described in the Bible as the "Father of Lies." His one lie so many years ago resulted in the deaths of five men who were completely sold out for God. But in spite of that attempted intervention, the purposes of God were still achieved. Achieved because the wives and one sister refused to be detered from the purposes they shared with their husbands and continued to share the gospel with the Aucas. The Auca's slowly became Christians and gave up killing each other and killing those tribes around them. They turned away from hate and anger and were saved from killing each other off completely (not to mention a life of sin and an eternity without knowledge of God).

What a blessing that God can make good out of anything, even the schemes of Satan. Satan is the Father of Lies. Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life. What a magnificent contrast!

Newly Lost Hope

All of a sudden, one morning, two months ago, our director at work notified us that our work was at an end. The entire company will be gone by the first part of next year. One minute we were working hard, looking forward to each work day and working together to succeed. We had reorganized, had felt the acceleration into the brightening future. The next minute all effort was history; the wind was gone from the sails, the engine dead, the fire extinguished. All that is left is the fading momentum as we slowly settle into the doldrums from which we shall not be saved. A saving breeze will not come with the morning sun. Our Hope is gone; the laughter of children that might have touched our lives sails on to another place.

Individually we shall arise and move on, dorries of individual rescue will reach us, one by one, taking us off to new places and new hopes and dreams. Our beloved corporate entity will forever lie in dusty death, visited by us in dreams and in flickers of nostalgia laced memories.

Crash Effect

I didn't realize it had been so long since I had written here until I finally got back to the site! June - and now it's August. That's what happens when your computer hard drive turns into dust, so to speak. It's nice to be back up and running with internet and email access. Granted, I could have posted from my work computer, but I find writing relaxing and don't like a time limit. Like those "wee hours of the morning" the best.

Thanks to our friend Jim who saved all our old documents, photos, i-tunes, etc. Its great to have competent friends in a time of need. We said our thanks through an Ethiopian dinner and a good time was had by all!

Choosing Your God Wisely

On a Saturday in May I was driving a bit of a distance and came across a radio show along the lines of Art Bell’s late night program. I’ve been thinking about this amazing experience ever since. There was a man being interviewed who proclaimed forcefully that we have been visited by aliens from space. He labored over the fact that this is all well-known throughout the higher echelons of government and it has all been hidden from the American public. He talked about the bodies of aliens that our government has captured alive and that are still, today, stored in secret. He even asserted that everyone in the very highest levels of government know the following specifics:

First, they have proof that aliens exist and they have visited earth.
Secondly, they know that aliens have impacted modern inventions and are responsible for our modern technology.
Third, they know that many people have been captured by aliens and have had a variety of painful experiments inflicted upon them.
Fourth, aliens are responsible for many of the “missing persons” throughout the country.
Fifth, President Eisenhower knew there was no God, only aliens, but in an effort to keep the illusion of God and to keep the population compliant and not panicked, he made it a point to advocate for “In God We Trust” to be added to currency and “Under God” to the Pledge of Allegiance.

As I drove along, I was impressed with his passion and his confidence. He obviously believed what he was saying. He was convinced, or at least was convincing, of the truth of his words. While driving along, I felt a combination of both incredulousness and horror. Could this be true? Could he be telling the truth? I found myself looking at the three options that CS Lewis and others have used over the years when looking claims made by speakers. Either the speaker was telling the truth, was lying or was deluded. There really aren’t any other options.

There this man was, loudly asserting the presence and impact of aliens on planet earth. He was asserting to anyone who would listen that what he had to say was the truth.

Is he telling the truth? Has he seen these with his own eyes while awake and lucid? Is he one of a few lonely voices trying to get the truth out to us?

Or is he lying? Does he know for a fact that this is not true and says it because it gives him popularity and his fifteen minutes of fame? Does he enjoy horrifying and frightening people with visions of lying under the knife of alien scientist who views us as nothing but another specimen? Is he serious on the outside and laughing on the inside?

Or is he a crazy person who has delusions? Does he have visions in his head and thinks that they are reality? Is he schizophrenic? Is he a person who has visions and dreams and can’t separate them from reality?

Then as I continued driving along, I looked at Mount Rainier and the slanting rays of the afternoon sun lighting up the snow. I thought of my little hummingbird coming to my feeder throughout the winter, looking for his daily food. I thought of my dog and cats, the roses and cosmos growing merrily, and the tulips recently come and gone for another year. I thought about coffee and chocolate, lounging in the sun or swimming in the pool. I remembered snuggling on the couch with husband and kids, watching Apollo 13. I considered Jesus’ words that he “came to give us life abundantly.” He talked about God caring for the birds of the air and the lilies of the field. Jesus said, “Come unto me you who are burdened and weary and you’ll find rest for your souls.” David wrote in Psalms, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

I considered the speakers alien gods. Gods of fear and terror. Gods who come to inflict fear and pain, gods who come to feed off of mankind and to take people away in the dead of night. Gods to run away from and escape if at all possible. His aliens sound more like the demons of the spiritual world. They have no compunction about lying or leading people astray. Demons come to harm, kill and destroy. They aren’t aliens, but are created spiritual being alienated from the Creator of the Universe.

Jesus has maintained his credibility much longer than this speaker, however well intentioned he may have been. One of them is telling the truth about God, one is lying or is delusional. Jesus has been changing lives for the good for centuries now. The speaker's gods bring destruction and fear. The speaker can have his reality and his gods; I’ll keep the One who said, “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” I will choose my God carefully.

Glorious Summer Morning

What an absolute glorious morning. The sky is blue with not a cloud in sight, light breeze and the sounds of birds chirping merrily. We have the usual morning rush of chickadees and finches at the feeders; it’s too late in the year for the goldfinches any longer. The house sparrows are busily helping the fledgling get better at flying and two swallows are taking turns feeding their hungry brood. The swallows have refused the swallow box two years in a row, and have again opted for the vent holes in the attic. (But we love them, so what are we to do. We just won’t look inside; ignorance is bliss.)

But the best thing of the morning is absolutely new. The hummingbirds haven’t been coming to the feeders at all in weeks. Too many flowers; sugar water is pretty lame as an alternative to nectar. But for the first time today the excitement was at the fountain. [The fountain is a little water feature we purchased three years ago when Lucas Statuary was moving location and putting their wares on sale. It has a little stone pineapple on top (where the water emerges) and two small bowls where water drips each into the one below and finally the larger pool at the bottom.] This morning the hummingbirds were drinking from and bathing in the top level of this feature. Even more fun, the adults would perch on the top of the pineapple and flutter in the cascading water. Two adults were having territorial fights over this, but the winning adult would let what appeared to be a juvenile sit nearby. The blur here in the photo is one of them busily bathing and trying to keep from being washed away. What a glorious morning!

Howling Dog Point Lighthouse

On my recent trip to Japan I was able to visit the lighthouse at Howling Dog Point (although in Japanese it is apparently Dog Howling Point). Inubousaki Lighthouse is the name in Japanese. Ee-new-bow(ribbon type bow)-saw-key Say it fast and you have it - or so I was told.

What a treat for a very part-time keeper to get to visit a lighthouse a third or so of the way around the world. There are a variety of possible legends about why it is Howling Dog Point. One being that a Samurai was killed in Kyoto (across the country) and the dog could be heard howling all the way from this point. A second that the samurai left the dog to go to war and the dog could be heard howling from the sadness of being left behind. My least favorite, and apparently the one proclaimed on the sign is that the dog was demon possessed and the Samurai tied him and left him there to be rid of him. Being a dog lover as well as a lighthouse aficionado, the last legend is a bit of a downer. Another likely scenario is because of a rock that looks a bit dog shaped with “ears” standing up and hence the name of the point.

This lighthouse was built in 1874. We got to hike the 99 stairs to the top to look at the view out to Sea – and there it was, the wide blue ocean with home sweet home somewhere way beyond the view. The tower was very narrow at the top and those of us going up had to lean into the center of the tower and suck in our stomachs to let those heading downward past. There were little signs about each quarter of the way up; the first three encouraged us (if we could read it) that we could make the climb and the last congratulated us on a hike well done.

At the top we could also see above our heads the huge Fresnel lens ready at sunset to flash a warning to ships at sea. Because of the crystals there was a large curtain that protected the lens during the day from the rays of the sun. But on the shadowed side, the lens could be seen although it wouldn’t flash until night.
A port not far north from this lighthouse is a major fishing port for Japan. For the past century and a third, the light has warned sailors of approaching dangers warmed their hearts with its welcoming glow.

Walking the Knife Edge of History

I’ve been wondering recently if we are standing on the knife edge of history with a fall to our doom, whether to the right or the left, if we don’t choose our steps carefully. I look at the war in Iraq and I wonder how it would have gone if the country had stayed united and determined as at the beginning. We all know that “a house divided against itself cannot stand.” It doesn’t matter how powerful a nation, or any group of people are; if they become focused on destroying each other, a small, dedicated and ruthless enemy, motivated by ideology and no fear of death, can overcome. We are the world’s greatest military superpower, but we are nearly as battered internally by the constant negativity as we are externally by the insurgents in Iraq.

But what if this is part of a bigger picture. I know, generations have come and gone and Messiah hasn’t returned yet. . .but, He did come, as predicted, the first time 2000 years ago and He said He will come again. . .so. What if the scenario is like this.

What if the noble experiment of the US is held in the balance by what we do now about this war here in this time. What if God did bring George Bush to the presidency for this time. Everyone was certainly happy to see him in charge of things on 9/12 – even Al Gore, the stories go, was glad he wasn’t president while he watched the towers fall. But what if the US is hanging in the balance of judgment. We seem to think that the constant negativity is neutral and has no effect. Unintended consequences can change the course of history.

What if our choice here is to be united and stand strong, or to be divided and fall dramatically, like a falling star, from the world’s scene. What if our choice is to put our differences behind and get on with the task of finishing this war with a united front or to hate our own leadership so much that we “cut off our nose to spite our face,” as my mother used to admonish me to not do, and we destroy ourselves because of hate for one man.

What happens if we fail? It would seem that the world would fall into terror on every side. The new testament notes that near the end a time will come when “men’s hearts will fail them for fear.” A world in which fundamentalist, extremist Islam has the upper hand would definitely be a world of fear. We cannot fail through lack of strength of computer and steel, but we can fail and fall mightily if we lack resolve and strength of mind. The knife blade is getting narrower. Lord God Almighty, please have mercy and spare us; help us make wise choices.

Getting Back In The Swing of Things

After a full week of frantically trying to get ready for vacation, followed by a wonderful week in Tokyo and environs, and then another week trying to catch up with the rest of my responsibilities, I haven’t had a chance to write here at all. I haven’t forgotten, however, and hope to get back to my musings shortly.

When I traveled to Japan, the first two days I missed my dog the most. Well, not really missed; I just felt the most guilty about leaving him behind. After all, when I told him I’d only be gone a week and would come back, why would I think he would understand? So, guilt over “abandoning” the dog. But after a couple of days, I really did miss my whole family and wished that they could have traveled with me. Missing the dog receded well into the background (whew, nice to have priorities in order). I kept thinking about how much the rest of the family would have enjoyed the various activities and I wished they were there. I had a great time, enjoyed my friends, saw my first Japanese lighthouse! And saw 17 new birds! The least exciting was the Carrion Crow, the most exciting (but not most rare) the perky little Japanese Pigmy Woodpecker. We’ll have to go back as a small herd if the friends think they could put up with us all for a few days!

It was such a treat to travel with a family that is completely bilingual. I could just relax and let them lead the way. Their kids could easily move back and forth between English and Japanese as could the parents. I was stuck in one language. But because of them, I could concentrate on enjoying the things I was seeing and didn't have to overtax the declining cognitive abilities by worrying over getting back home. Riding the trains was great, but I’m not sure I ever really knew where I was going!

The week included bird watching, walks through parks, hours chatting and catching up on friends, family and events, a day trip to the ocean (lighthouse), a day trip complete with a traditional Japanese barbeque by a river in the mountains, Edo-city museum, national museum, shopping and a small, but quality highlight, visiting a bird-nest exhibit at a local museum.

What a great week! Before the trip it just seemed like forever before the day would come, now we’re over a week past and it is already receding into the past. How quickly time flies when you’re having fun!

The Ongoing Saga

Well, obviously blogging life is not as simple as I had initially thought. I finally got the photo of Baxter and his sibs uploaded onto my previous posts, and voila', it worked fine from work (weekend access, not during work time!!) and even though my first attempt - on "The World's Best Dog" - didn't appear to work, but did seem to on "Alas" -- I ended up with the photo nice and visible on BOTH postings. Didn't want to mess with apparent success, so left it both places. Came home, accessed blog from home computer and all I get are small squares where photos should be. When I click on them, I can see the photo, but don't know if that is everyone's experience. At my work computer, they all just showed up where they belonged in glorious color right with the posting - like the earlier photos.

I wish I was a little more computer/blog literate. It would be nice if everything actually made sense and wasn't all trial and error. But if I can get trial and error to work, I won't be unhappy.

So, I'll try once again from home to see if I can get the other photo of Baxter to upload. I hate feeling stymied - but it's a common feeling when it comes to computers!!!

Nope, no success again. The next time you see Baxter here, I'll probably have sent the photo to my work computer and then tried again. This is rather annoying!! Continuing on with trial and error yet again!

ALAS

I've been attempting to dowload the two photos I had wanted to add to my last entry -- The World's Best Dog -- but I haven't been able to get them to upload. I thought I'd try once again as a new entry. . .so here goes.

Alas. . .no go again. Hope I can figure it out :-)!
Almost - 4/23 - maybe it's here this time!

THE WORLD'S BEST DOG

This morning I sat in the recliner by the window with the world’s best dog on my lap. Baxter is just four years old, born in March and picked up by us on Memorial Weekend four years ago. What a cute little puppy he was! Schipperke pups look like small bear cubs and we have no idea, in the photo of the little quintuplets provided by the breeder, which of the pups is Baxter.

He’s my dog. He’s really the family dog and is devoted to and protective of everyone. But he’s my dog because I’m “mom.” When the other’s lament that he isn’t most devoted to them, I remind them that when he was a little puppy, who was the one person who would crawl out of bed at 3:00 am to take him outside when he was miserable and needed to piddle? Yup, me. Who made sure he got every meal? Yup, me. Everyone played with him and he adores them all, but since I met all those puppy needs day and night after day and night, well, he’s bonded to me in his sweet little doggy mind.

He’s so cute. If I give him a greenie and then leave the house, he usually won’t eat the greenie until I’m back home; he waits for my return. He barks with joy whenever I come home and shakes with delight that his fears of abandonment were unfounded. He’s a great little early warning system and it is unlikely that we will be snuck up on by a person with evil intent. One night he barked at 3:00 am and we grumpily told him to be quiet and the next morning I had an email from a neighbor asking why the police were in front of our house at 3:00 am! What??? We had police at our house at 3:00 am? Turned out they had chased a stolen truck into our cul-de-sac and the culprits, discovering there was no place to go, abandoned the truck in front of our house and took off through a nearby yard without a fence in the front. By the time we knew about it, the truck was long gone and the only evidence that remained were the black tire marks showing exactly where the driver was when he realized there was no exit!

Schipperkes are also called Belgian barge bogs because they were apparently bred to be ratters on barges. Baxter has proven his breeding because he’s done in a couple of rats in the back yard over the past few months. The reason we have an occasional rat come through is because we also have three pigeons in a coop and they are not very neat eaters. There are always leftover seeds on the ground under the coop and the rats that live under the neighbors shed have been seen coming under the fence to have a snack. Baxter has turned some of their excursions into the last meal before their execution! We do not mourn the rats!

Baxter has a great personality, thinks every dog is his friend -- although he’s been surprised a few times and has moderated his enthusiasm. He is very protective of me. Just let husband or kids “pick on” mom and voila, there he is nipping at their ankles and letting them know that this is not appropriate behavior.

He is a complete affection sponge and adores being petted by “dad” who is the world’s best dog petter. He love chasing balls, but won’t let go so you have to have two in order to get him to chase more than once. He loves going for walks and his favorite phrase is “go with?” which means he’s invited along in the car. At those words, he runs in circles and barks for joy! He loves to sleep on the foot of the bed and on a cold winter night I enjoy his little 104 degree heater by my feet. Best of all, he sits next to me on the recliner and offers his furry little back as a sensory treat. When I’m happy he is happy along with me and when I’m sad he licks my tears. Lots of people have very nice dogs, but I have the World’s Best Dog!

HOW THE GENERATIONS PASS - Healy, Richardson, Stevens, Sherwood

This week I've spent a lot of time typing up the entries of an old journal of my great-great grandmother - Rosina Jane Richardson Stevens, who went by Jane. It's difficult to read some of her beautiful cursive writing, but definitely worth the effort. She began writing when her mother died in 1872 and seemed to only take pen to diary when one or another family member passed on or a similar tragedy occurred. She sounds rather pessimistic in her writings, but her narrative shows that life was not easy. Their family made many moves while trying to establish themselves in farming or business; she lamented business losses (e.g., fire in furniture store, financial debts, cyclones wreaking havoc on their farm, and the loss of siblings and children. Theirs was not an easy life in the late 1880’s for those lower to middle class families who were trying to make it in either business or farming the land.

It’s wonderful that she left this short 18-entry journal. Two of the last few entries give lists of events with places and dates recorded. The first is an outline of the moves of her early marriage. Only 19 moves in 18 years – you can hear the satisfaction in her voice as she mentions that they were still living in Elgin, Minnesota six uninterrupted years later. It appears she actually stayed there many years more.

In her journal she hoped that her life would have value to someone who she had touched and due to her experiences, was always reminding herself that we need to be ready because “we don’t know at what day or hour our call will come” to pass on to the next world. Considering her brother, Nathaniel Healy, died of Consumption, while in London and reportedly feeling better; her sister Mary Dexter died suddenly of heart disease and dropsy, and a little unnamed but not unmourned niece or nephew died at the ripe old age of 22 months, her anxiety in this regard was not unfounded or exagerated. Reading this 134 years later, I’m struck with how her life did have the meaning she desired it might have to those who followed – and how her jotted notes of decades past touch my heart even now. We’re not so different, she and I, but I do feel more optimistic. But on the other hand, my life is much easier, so why wouldn’t I be.

Our lives have intersected in another way as well. She and her husband apparently couldn’t have children and they later adopted their six year old niece, Eldora Julia Dexter who they named Ella Jane Stevens. So she is my blood relative in a roundabaout way, but being my great grandmother’s mother, she is my true great-great grandmother as well. She was the one who was mom, even though her sister was her daughter’s birth mother. I have a slight interest in those first parents, the Mary who died of dropsy and her first husband, Levi, who passed away when Ella Jane was an infant, but it is enough to see great-great Grandma Jane reflected in my grandmother and later my father. Both, including the two generations before them, had strong faith in God and looked for His help and comfort in time of need. I don't know what might have happened if Eldora Julia had grown up and lived her life unaffected by grandma Jane, but Ella Jane is person our great-grandmother became.

In 1883 Great-great Grandma Jane wrote

"Elgin,[Minnesota], Nov. 8th, 1883

No cyclone here Sept 21st as predicted but one passed over us eastward, striking [illegible] in Wis., doing much damage. My health is quite poor and I feel it s my duty to divide some precious things that were our mothers. I am growing old. Soon the places that know us now will know us no more." This "predicted" cyclone would have been the one everyone feared after the devastating ones of July 21st and August 21st of the two months previous. Little did she know that her life would become easier as time went on. In spite of her feeling old and her own "prediction," she lived almost three more decades until February 1912 -- a few months before her granddaughter, my grandmother, Susan Rosina, graduated from high school. She had a long time to live before it was her turn to be the one passing on.

I'm loving reading her words, feelings her thoughts and feeling our hearts reaching out to each other across the century. Perhaps from the gates of heaven now, along with Grandma Susan and her son, my Dad, Great-great Grandma Jane watches me read her words and knows that all of them, and the rest of the family who are already there, live on in my heart. As Grandma Jane said when her sister passed on, "I trust to meet you there with many loved ones gone before."