I love this little corner of Laura's house
We have been floundering, the Mr. and I. Hanging onto the hope that the "kids" wouldn't leave us, and afraid to death that they would. I had had a bit of relief when I talked to Kat the other day and she told me they hadn't heard anything, but it was short lived. Very short lived, as it turned out. Friday night we invited them over for dinner and they were quick to accept. Too quick. I had some foreboding and I wasn't wrong. In the middle of setting the table, the family arrived. They flooded in with noise and chatter and then suddenly it all stopped. Katie said loudly, amidst all the background noise. We are leaving. Moving. Just want to get it out there, now. What? Is this true? Hoping she was just kidding. She had a ghost of a smile on her face, as she looked at Jeff. Tell them, Jeff, she said. I looked down at the chicken I was plating, as my heart shattered. It took all I had not to burst into tears. The Mr. and I exchanged glances and I could see that his heart was also rending. I tried very hard not to look at either Katie or Jeff as they gave us the details. I just shut my mouth and went quiet, as I carved the chicken. We talked about it all through dinner, as if we weren't dying inside. When they left I went outside. I didn't even go upstairs. I just sat on the patio in the dark and let my heart bleed. I wept. After an hour I went in the house.
Rocky Ridge Farmhouse
The famous bread plate
There wasn't much to say. I felt so empty inside. What will I do without my girls?
Sleep was scarce that night.
The next day was Saturday, and Claire, who is a cheerleader, had a game. We always go to support her, her cheerleading cousins and their seven year old brother who is on the football team. I didn't say much to Kat or Jeff, just sat on the bench with Arya. It was hot. 100 degrees hot, and the sun was right in our face. It was almost four in the afternoon, the hottest time of the hot day, and we were roasting. I had brought my pink flamingo umbrella to shield us from the sun, and I was wearing my new hat, the large brimmed designer hat I had bought in Port Aransas a couple of weeks before. I let her wear it. The Mr. took her to get a sno cone and I watched Claire do her cheers in the hot sun, my heart aching, and my eyes heavy with unshed tears.
After the game we went our separate ways, and I realized belatedly that Arya still had my hat. And I didn't really care, although I do love that hat. At this point they can have anything they ask me for, if it's in my power to give it.
Sunday morning, and I was more than a little nervous. Today Claire would be baptized. Today the entire family was coming to church, for the first time ever. How would it go? I had a lot of butterflies about the whole thing. On the other hand, I was so excited for Claire.
We met the "kids" at the church, and as we entered we saw the girl's Sunday school teacher. We chatted a minute. She talked to Claire a little bit about what was going to happen, and gave some last minute instructions. It was determined that I would go with her to help her dress and undress afterwards. Her dad would also go, and watch from the men's side of the baptistry.
Service began, and worship. Then the children were dismissed for children's church. As the pastor wound down the sermon I left my seat and came into the vestibule to meet Claire and the teacher. I walked her to the changing room near the baptistry and helped her get ready. The door was open to the steps down into the water. There were three children who wanted to be baptized today. Daisy, a little girl to our left went down first and then he reached his hand out for Claire. I can't tell you the joy that flooded through this Grandma's heart, as he asked her if she had received Jesus into her heart, and she responded with a very firm Yes! YES! The pastor repeated after her, and with that, said Upon that confession, I baptize you, Claire, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And down she went.
It. was. Lovely.
I wanted to cry. But I couldn't.
She came up out of the water and I helped her get her clothes back on, tucking the wet ones in her little backpack. We went out into the sanctuary to join the rest of the family, and asked Claire where she would like to eat lunch. So altogether then, we went to the Asian restaurant, because she loves it, and had a nice lunch.
Then the Mr. and I got out of dodge. We went home and packed up the dog, and unlike last time, we took clothes and left for parts unknown. Not to say we were running away, like last time, it was just that we didn't want to be home for awhile. We were both emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed.
We told no one, except Matt, and only because he caught us driving out of the driveway.
We couldn't decide which way to go. We started out heading towards Albuquerque, and his family, but within a few minutes changed direction and headed for Eureka Springs, Arkansas. I had been there once, he had never been. The ride was lovely. Soon the dry drought ridden landscape became luscious with tall green trees, and high rocky cliffs. The trees weren't changing color yet, but the sky was bright blue and the road ahead was beautiful. We took the scenic route, which involved a lot of small twisty country roads, and pine trees.
We got there in the evening and headed for downtown, and of course, it was eerily empty. Nothing was open. It wasn't tourist season and it was getting dark. We would our way along the small twisty streets with our overly large car, the Mr. being very careful, and looked at all the little houses, closely packed along the road. It reminded me of one of those Frontier town museums, where you walk along and go into the houses and see how people lived long ago, only these were lived in. This was a real neighborhood.
After a while we drove back to our hotel and settled in.
The next day we just rested. And we went to the grocery store and bought a lot of groceries, intending to stay in the hotel, which had a kitchen, for a few days. However, on a whim, we decided to go to Branson. Why not? So we bought a small cooler and loaded up all the groceries, and the dog, and my guitar, and the Mr.'s laptop, because he was working from the road, and headed to Branson.
Branson was nice. Not really what I expected, and yet completely what I expected. We found our hotel, and filled the much smaller fridge with all of our grocery store food, and promptly went out to eat. We found a discount overstock store on the way and went in with the dog tucked up in his stroller, and checked it out. So. much. junk. I looked at it all, and marveled that just a few years ago I would have wanted to buy all this junk. But now, especially in light of the purging I am doing in my house, I didn't want any of it. I was happy to leave without buying a thing. We continued on to our restaurant, which was high above the banks of the White River. We sat down at an outside patio table, with the dog still in his stroller and enjoyed watching the water show below us on the river. We were blown out of our chairs a few minutes later, as the water show became a water and fire show, unexpectedly. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! to the beat of some loud music. Once we got used to it, we quite enjoyed it.
After we got back to our hotel, it occurred to me that we were not far from the Laura Ingalls Wilder museum and farmhouse, a bucket list item for me. I told the Mr. about it, and the next day we packed up our fridge food, again, and the dog, and the suitcases, and my guitar, and the Mr.'s laptop, and our pillows, and drove the hour and a half to the house, stopping on the way to get out at a very cool fishing spot on a large river, overlooked by trees. People were standing on the banks trout fishing, and you could see the trout in the water, still, as if suspended, not moving much in the heat of the day. We left there with a vow to come back and stay at the lodge there. It was lovely.
The Ingalls house and museum was everything I thought it would be. It was a cool morning, actually not hot for once. I walked up to the museum door, pushing the dog in his stroller, through a garden of prairie grass and butterflies. And although they have a strict no pet policy, they saw our stroller and allowed the dog to come in. So we walked around for a couple of hours just taking it all in. I was a huge fan of the Little House books as a little girl, and of course no one who lived in the seventies missed out on the Little House series on television. This was surreal, though. I was looking at Pa's actual violin. Made in 1850 in Germany. Almost two hundred years old, and carried all the way from Wisconsin, to South Dakota, and played by Pa often in the books. And incidentally, played just last week at the Grand Ole Opry. I walked around and looked at Laura's dishes. She had good taste. Looked at the clothes she made for herself. Looked at Almanzo's watch, a beautiful thing, and all of the canes he made for himself. Looked at the clothes sister Mary made for herself, although she was blind, she could sew beautifully. Looked at the family Bibles and the famous wooden dipper bucket. Saw the famous bread plate that Laura threw out the window when her house caught on fire.
Then next door, we went into her home and looked at her pretty little yellow kitchen. Almanzo built the house for her, to her height specs, as she was only 4 ft. 11 inches tall. It took him seventeen years to complete it. She wrote the second half of her book series there, the first half in the rock house down the road that her daughter had built for them. Sadly we didn't have time to go over there and look at that, as we had to get on the road. We had decided that we would go ahead and go home today, when we were done with Laura's house.
Our hearts were heavy as we turned toward home, our thoughts on our girls, and what life would be like once they were gone. I remembered what the pastor had said in the sermon on Sunday though, and I took comfort from that. We have to trust the Lord, even when things don't go as we would like. I knew this was true, with all of my heart, having experienced some things in the past that required that kind of trust. I know the Lord is good. My experience with things that don't go my way, is that when the experience has ended, the end result has always been far better than if I had had my way, if we trust Him. I didn't want to move to Salinas, in 2012. I didn't want the Mr. to lose his job. I didn't want his former bosses to steal all of our money out of our bank account. I didn't want to go through all the trouble of suing them, or having to declare bankruptcy, because of their actions. I didn't want my dad to have cancer, or the IRS to audit us, or my mom to have a car accident, or my dog to get run over. (It was a bad, bad, year). But in the end, after all was done. We ended up in our own home again. The Mr. had a great, great job, and the finances turned around. The bosses lost. We won. Dad recovered. Mom recovered. The dog recovered. The IRS was satisfied.
And when the Mr. got sick, almost five years ago. I didn't know if he would live or die. The scale was tipping toward death, and quickly. He couldn't work. We had to go live in Houston. The house was, although not abandoned, left to the care of the kids, who didn't care for it at all. All seemed lost. But I trusted in the Lord. And now? Now the Mr. is in perfect health, and a man who loves the Lord, with a great job. So you see, I know that God is good. I know his plan for us is good. I know his plan for the girls is good.
I know He will take care of them. I keep thinking about Job. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
But it still hurts.
They will most likely be gone by Christmas.
The Mr. wants to sell the house.
Maybe he is right. I don't know yet. I have lost so much this year. My dad. And now my girls, I told him it's too much to think, right now, of losing my house, too.
Besides, I just wallpapered the foyer and I'm loving it. And our contractor is coming next week to give us an estimate on a whole new living room floor. I'm very excited about this. Very.
So what will we do after the girls are gone? We will carry on. We may get an RV and do more traveling. It remains to be seen. If there is one thing I know about the Lord, though, whatever He has in store for us, has got to be good.
Here are some pictures, I had trouble uploading so they aren't necessarily in the order they were taken.
The famous bucket and dipper
We talked about it all through dinner, as if we weren't dying inside. When they left I went outside. I didn't even go upstairs. I just sat on the patio in the dark and let my heart bleed. I wept. After an hour I went in the house.
There wasn't much to say. I felt so empty inside. What will I do without my girls?
Sleep was scarce that night.
The next day was Saturday, and Claire, who is a cheerleader, had a game. We always go to support her, her cheerleading cousins and their seven year old brother who is on the football team. I didn't say much to Kat or Jeff, just sat on the bench with Arya. It was hot. 100 degrees hot, and the sun was right in our face. It was almost four in the afternoon, the hottest time of the hot day, and we were roasting. I had brought my pink flamingo umbrella to shield us from the sun, and I was wearing my new hat, the large brimmed designer hat I had bought in Port Aransas a couple of weeks before. I let her wear it. The Mr. took her to get a sno cone and I watched Claire do her cheers in the hot sun, my heart aching, and my eyes heavy with unshed tears.
After the game we went our separate ways, and I realized belatedly that Arya still had my hat. And I didn't really care, although I do love that hat. At this point they can have anything they ask me for, if it's in my power to give it.
Sunday morning, and I was more than a little nervous. Today Claire would be baptized. Today the entire family was coming to church, for the first time ever. How would it go? I had a lot of butterflies about the whole thing. On the other hand, I was so excited for Claire.
We met the "kids" at the church, and as we entered we saw the girl's Sunday school teacher. We chatted a minute. She talked to Claire a little bit about what was going to happen, and gave some last minute instructions. It was determined that I would go with her to help her dress and undress afterwards. Her dad would also go, and watch from the men's side of the baptistry.
Service began, and worship. Then the children were dismissed for children's church. As the pastor wound down the sermon I left my seat and came into the vestibule to meet Claire and the teacher. I walked her to the changing room near the baptistry and helped her get ready. The door was open to the steps down into the water. There were three children who wanted to be baptized today. Daisy, a little girl to our left went down first and then he reached his hand out for Claire. I can't tell you the joy that flooded through this Grandma's heart, as he asked her if she had received Jesus into her heart, and she responded with a very firm Yes! YES! The pastor repeated after her, and with that, said Upon that confession, I baptize you, Claire, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And down she went.
It. was. Lovely.
I wanted to cry. But I couldn't.
She came up out of the water and I helped her get her clothes back on, tucking the wet ones in her little backpack. We went out into the sanctuary to join the rest of the family, and asked Claire where she would like to eat lunch. So altogether then, we went to the Asian restaurant, because she loves it, and had a nice lunch.
Then the Mr. and I got out of dodge. We went home and packed up the dog, and unlike last time, we took clothes and left for parts unknown. Not to say we were running away, like last time, it was just that we didn't want to be home for awhile. We were both emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed.
We told no one, except Matt, and only because he caught us driving out of the driveway.
We couldn't decide which way to go. We started out heading towards Albuquerque, and his family, but within a few minutes changed direction and headed for Eureka Springs, Arkansas. I had been there once, he had never been. The ride was lovely. Soon the dry drought ridden landscape became luscious with tall green trees, and high rocky cliffs. The trees weren't changing color yet, but the sky was bright blue and the road ahead was beautiful. We took the scenic route, which involved a lot of small twisty country roads, and pine trees.
We got there in the evening and headed for downtown, and of course, it was eerily empty. Nothing was open. It wasn't tourist season and it was getting dark. We would our way along the small twisty streets with our overly large car, the Mr. being very careful, and looked at all the little houses, closely packed along the road. It reminded me of one of those Frontier town museums, where you walk along and go into the houses and see how people lived long ago, only these were lived in. This was a real neighborhood.
After a while we drove back to our hotel and settled in.
The next day we just rested. And we went to the grocery store and bought a lot of groceries, intending to stay in the hotel, which had a kitchen, for a few days. However, on a whim, we decided to go to Branson. Why not? So we bought a small cooler and loaded up all the groceries, and the dog, and my guitar, and the Mr.'s laptop, because he was working from the road, and headed to Branson.
Branson was nice. Not really what I expected, and yet completely what I expected. We found our hotel, and filled the much smaller fridge with all of our grocery store food, and promptly went out to eat. We found a discount overstock store on the way and went in with the dog tucked up in his stroller, and checked it out. So. much. junk. I looked at it all, and marveled that just a few years ago I would have wanted to buy all this junk. But now, especially in light of the purging I am doing in my house, I didn't want any of it. I was happy to leave without buying a thing. We continued on to our restaurant, which was high above the banks of the White River. We sat down at an outside patio table, with the dog still in his stroller and enjoyed watching the water show below us on the river. We were blown out of our chairs a few minutes later, as the water show became a water and fire show, unexpectedly. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! to the beat of some loud music. Once we got used to it, we quite enjoyed it.
After we got back to our hotel, it occurred to me that we were not far from the Laura Ingalls Wilder museum and farmhouse, a bucket list item for me. I told the Mr. about it, and the next day we packed up our fridge food, again, and the dog, and the suitcases, and my guitar, and the Mr.'s laptop, and our pillows, and drove the hour and a half to the house, stopping on the way to get out at a very cool fishing spot on a large river, overlooked by trees. People were standing on the banks trout fishing, and you could see the trout in the water, still, as if suspended, not moving much in the heat of the day. We left there with a vow to come back and stay at the lodge there. It was lovely.
The Ingalls house and museum was everything I thought it would be. It was a cool morning, actually not hot for once. I walked up to the museum door, pushing the dog in his stroller, through a garden of prairie grass and butterflies. And although they have a strict no pet policy, they saw our stroller and allowed the dog to come in. So we walked around for a couple of hours just taking it all in. I was a huge fan of the Little House books as a little girl, and of course no one who lived in the seventies missed out on the Little House series on television. This was surreal, though. I was looking at Pa's actual violin. Made in 1850 in Germany. Almost two hundred years old, and carried all the way from Wisconsin, to South Dakota, and played by Pa often in the books. And incidentally, played just last week at the Grand Ole Opry. I walked around and looked at Laura's dishes. She had good taste. Looked at the clothes she made for herself. Looked at Almanzo's watch, a beautiful thing, and all of the canes he made for himself. Looked at the clothes sister Mary made for herself, although she was blind, she could sew beautifully. Looked at the family Bibles and the famous wooden dipper bucket. Saw the famous bread plate that Laura through out the window when her house caught on fire.
Then next door, we went into her home and looked at her pretty little yellow kitchen. Almanzo built the house for her, to her height specs, as she was only 4 ft. 11 inches tall. It took him seventeen years to complete it. She wrote the second half of her book series there, the first half in the rock house down the road that her daughter had built for them. Sadly we didn't have time to go over there and look at that, as we had to get on the road. We had decided that we would go ahead and go home today, when we were done with Laura's house.
Our hearts were heavy as we turned toward home, our thoughts on our girls, and what life would be like once they were gone. I remembered what the pastor had said in the sermon on Sunday though, and I took comfort from that. We have to trust the Lord, even when things don't go as we would like. I knew this was true, with all of my heart, having experienced some things in the past that required that kind of trust. I know the Lord is good. My experience with things that don't go my way, is that when the experience has ended, the end result has always been far better than if I had had my way, if we trust Him. I didn't want to move to Salinas, in 2012. I didn't want the Mr. to lose his job. I didn't want his former bosses to steal all of our money out of our bank account. I didn't want to go through all the trouble of suing them, or having to declare bankruptcy, because of their actions. I didn't want my dad to have cancer, or the IRS to audit us, or my mom to have a car accident, or my dog to get run over. (It was a bad, bad, year). But in the end, after all was done. We ended up in our own home again. The Mr. had a great, great job, and the finances turned around. The bosses lost. We won. Dad recovered. Mom recovered. The dog recovered. The IRS was satisfied.
And when the Mr. got sick, almost five years ago. I didn't know if he would live or die. The scale was tipping toward death, and quickly. He couldn't work. We had to go live in Houston. The house was, although not abandoned, left to the care of the kids, who didn't care for it at all. All seemed lost. But I trusted in the Lord. And now? Now the Mr. is in perfect health, and a man who loves the Lord, with a great job. So you see, I know that God is good. I know his plan for us is good. I know his plan for the girls is good.
I know He will take care of them. I keep thinking about Job. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
But it still hurts.
They will most likely be gone by Christmas.
The Mr. wants to sell the house.
Maybe he is right. I don't know yet. I have lost so much this year. My dad. And now my girls, I told him it's too much to think, right now, of losing my house, too.
Besides, I just wallpapered the foyer and I'm loving it. And our contractor is coming next week to give us an estimate on a whole new living room floor. I'm very excited about this. Very.
So what will we do after the girls are gone? We will carry on. We may get an RV and do more traveling. It remains to be seen. If there is one thing I know about the Lord, though, whatever He has in store for us, has got to be good.
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