Darling Darren

As 2014 came to an end so too did my time as an expecting Mother.  Just minutes before our fourth child was born on December 29th I heard the midwife Suzanne say, "I don't think she'll be pregnant much longer" to a nurse in the room.  I don't recall exactly why she said it, but I know it encouraged me as those final moments were filled with fear and excruciating pain.  I recall whispering a prayer of "Father help me" a few times that morning and He did.  There is no other explanation of how a woman my size gave birth to such a large baby.

At 6:27 am we welcomed an 8lb. 12 oz. and 22 1/4 in. Darren Thomas into our family.  The words "It's a boy" are familiar in the delivery room as Darren is our fourth son.  The big brothers were hoping for a sister, but they expressed no disappointment upon meeting Darren.  

This was my third time delivering at Birth Care in Georgetown.  After bringing my firstborn into the world at a hospital I knew I wanted a different experience for my future births.  Birth Care provides a Home Birth atmosphere while being equipped with medical equipment in case of emergency.  Just before Darren was born I heard the staff in the room talking about giving me some oxygen.  In that moment I wasn't able to comprehend why such a request was being made, but I knew that something must be wrong.  I later found out that the baby's heart rate had dropped.  Fortunately with the help of everyone in the room I was repositioned, breathing better and the baby's heart rate returned to normal.

Darren and I were surrounded by many when he took his first breath.  My husband had a front row seat to each contraction, push and scream that brought Darren into the world.  Two weeks later my arms are still sore from squeezing Jeremy's arms and upper body during those early morning hours.  His presence, help and words of encouragement meant more than he'll ever know.

Did you know that the active presence of a husband or support person often result in shorter and less complicated labors?  For me personally, I know that Psychological Support has a huge impact on my labor & delivery experience.

I was very certain that our baby would be born on December 28th after four hours of intense contractions early that morning.  But when our three boys jumped out of bed that morning, my thoughts shifted from "Let's have a baby today" to "I need to get these boys packed up and out the door".  The contractions basically stopped - I was so disappointed that I would be pregnant yet another day!  Knowing that my labors always start in the middle of the night, the boys spent the night with friends so that if labor started again I could focus on the task before me.  

As predicted, labor started again around 1:00 am on the 29th.  I quietly got out of bed and readied myself for what I hoped would just take a few hours.  I turned on the Crock Pot that I had already filled with towels dampened with water and Young Living™ Essential Oils- Peppermint and Lavender.  These warm towels would greatly reduce the pain of back labor for me when applied during a contraction.  The Peppermint Essential Oil creates a cooling sensation that can cause the baby to turn away from a painful position like against a Mom's spine.  The Lavender has a calming and relaxing effect that is oh so welcomed.  I also turned on my diffuser that was filled with Frankincense - that mysterious oil you hear about at Christmas time.  This too can have a calming effect. 

I then called Sherry, my Doula, so she could start making her way to my house.  Doula is Greek for "a woman who serves".  She is there not only to support me in any way possible, but my husband as well.  There are many reasons why Dads Need Doulas.  I really like that it takes the pressure off of my husband to know exactly what to do during this unpredictable time.  The original plan was to once again have my Doula, Mary Ann by my side to bring my little one into the world, but things don't always go as planned when you have a baby around Christmas.  So Sherry graciously agreed to take her place just the week before.

As my husband got ready and Sherry walked in the door my mind was able to focus all it's attention on one thing - the baby.  Contractions didn't hold back after that.  The car was packed and we quickly got down the road, arriving at Birth Care in just a few minutes. 

Suzanne, the midwife, greeted us at the Birth Care entrance and was enthusiastic about getting the baby out.  After a few minutes in triage I was given my choice of birthing rooms.  Once I saw those rooms labor intensified again and I quickly sat in a rocking chair to prepare for the next contraction. 

Frankincense was diffusing, Christmas music was playing and lights dimly lit the room like candles.  I shed my winter clothing so that all remained was a comfortable black smocked summer dress.  Peaceful surroundings were now in place for not only me, but all who entered to be with me.  Many commented on the wonderful aroma as they entered the room.  One nurse loved it when Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" played softly in the background.

The memory of the next few hours is blurry.  Some women report feeling empowered, overjoyed and peaceful after giving birth and holding their new baby.  I felt like I just got hit by a car TRAIN.  I was holding the baby for a few minutes when someone told me to talk to him since he was crying.  I wasn't fully aware of his presence laying on top of me.  I wasn't cold, yet I was shaking.  Questions were asked yet the words couldn't quite come to my mouth to answer them.  I think I was in a state of shock.  Just moments before I was afraid that I couldn't get the baby out.  8lb. 12 oz. babies don't have small frames - it took everything I had to release my child into the world.  My lips went numb and I felt like they must be turning blue.  Then his shoulders were stuck, he had to be turned.  My fears didn't diminish in the minutes, hours or even days after his birth.  It was a traumatic experience that replayed in my head a few times before I was able to fully enjoy my newest son.  He was "The Incredible Hulk" until his name was finalized later that day. 

Soon after birth, Sherry anointed Darren with Frankincense.  This essential oil was chosen to promote bonding and strengthen the immune system.  Once home I applied Myrrh to Darren's umbilical cord to hasten healing.  As I child I recall hearing that the gifts of Frankincense and Myrrh given to Mary by the Magi were probably just sold for needed funds (because oils were such an impractical gift).  The oils of the Bible are often misunderstood and dismissed.  But I have no doubt that Mary treasured the gifts for their many uses.  Perhaps they were used when Jesus scraped his knee as a toddler or when he felt sick?   

Another joyous occasion for many new Moms is nursing.  But this was not the case for Darren's first feeding.  Just like his big brother Daniel, Darren had strong suction abilities that I couldn't handle.  By New Year's Eve I was in tears when it came time for Darren to eat.  Oh it hurt so bad!  Fortunately I had experience with this, so I contacted Dawn Wachter, L.M.T. Craniosacral Therapist and Reflexologist, right away for an appointment to relieve possible tension in Darren's jaw and an appointment for my aches and pains as well.  (To find out more about Daniel's feeding issues head over to my blog post from October 2012 - Craniosacral Miracles)

So at just four days old Darren received his first treatment.  Dawn discovered that his spine was twisted with tension up into his right shoulder and neck.  She worked on him as long as she could but Darren kept spitting up his breakfast and was clearly becoming hungry again.  Darren had spit up a lot since birth, which meant I had to feed him more, which meant more pain.  I was anxious to notice a difference when I fed him next.  But it was another feeding when I bit my lips and held my breath. 

Once Darren was finished eating I gingerly laid down for my own treatment.  There were few body parts that didn't hurt.  There were the obvious aches and pains along with my arms, legs, feet and especially my back.  The weight of the baby had been pulling on my back for several months and now it was trying to recover from back labor.  Dawn worked on restrictions and tension on my right side, uterus and colon.  My chest area into my neck and head were also tight.  I felt like Jello at the end of the treatment.  Oftentimes after a treatment I feel the need to lay flat on my back when sleeping.  (This is so unusual since I always sleep on my side or belly.)  As I lay there facing the ceiling my back will hurt yet feel good at the same time as my body realigns back to normal.  Two days later I felt significant improvement in my whole body, especially my back.            

Before Dawn left that morning she suggested having Daren's mouth checked for possible Tongue Tie.  So the waiting game continued over the weekend until I could get an appointment to have his tongue checked and possibly corrected.  In the days that followed I noticed a significant difference in Darren's spitting.  He went from spitting up most of his meal and needing a new outfit to just some slight spitting that could easily be cleaned.  Perhaps his tension wasn't allowing him to keep his food down? 

On Monday, Rita Rhodes, founder of Birth Care, confirmed that Darren was in fact Tongue Tied and she preformed a tongue frenectomy.  The procedure was painless but my baby boy was not happy about being strapped down for the five minutes that it took to complete.  

The next feeding was not without pain, because I was still so sore from the past week, but the procedure did make a difference.  Since then I've allowed Darren to feed longer and I've been able to enjoy my newest son a lot more.  

 

 

Just this past weekend I had the privilege of sipping some hot chocolate with both Mary Ann and Sherry at the Corner Coffee Shop in Intercourse.  Mary Ann just felt terrible about missing Darren's birth and had offered to come to my home for the day and help out.  But since I was starting to feel better I felt that some conversation with other woman was a greater need than a cleaner house.  We chatted for several hours about babies, essential oils and relationships.  It was time well spent, time that I will always treasure.  Some journeys are meant to be traveled alone - Motherhood is not one of them.  I am so thankful for these special women in my life. 



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Down Home

As this past winter dragged on and on I found myself filling more of my summer schedule with fun things to do.  It didn't make the snow melt any faster but it gave me some adventures to look forward to. 

So this past spring, while my husband drove a few hours north for his annual military training, I drove many, many hours south down home to North Carolina.  I never lived there, only spent some childhood summers there, but it is still a place to call home, even if I hadn't been there since 1998.  A lot has changed since then - three sons to be exact.  Only a crazy person would take three young kids over 500 miles away on their own - I am that crazy woman!  

To break up the hours in my little Honda we stopped at Luray Caverns in Virginia.  The caverns are 64 acres of beauty that were discovered in 1878. Pictures don't do it justice (especially with my camera).  My boys were in awe of the enormous formations that surrounded them.    

    
After spending the night in Staunton, VA we continued on our way.  I felt such a sense of accomplishment when we finally came up the Ashe County sign - I was home!  

While most kids grew up with their Grandparents across the street or even "over the river and through the woods", I had to cross mountains to see my Great Grandmothers - Granny Annie and Granny Ada.  How I wish they were still here on earth to chat with.  I can still see Granny Annie's hands covered in flour as she made us biscuits and I remember what it felt like to get a hug from my skinny Granny Ada.  My Grannies have been gone for many years but I still have some cousins who I hadn't seen in years and those mountains were calling me.   

Our first stop after crossing the state line was Shatley Springs in Crumpler.   Daniel wasted no time tidying up the porch of our cabin - he was so happy to be out of the car!  This humble dwelling would be our home.   

Shatley Springs is an enchanting place worthy of it's very own blog post (if only I had the time).  It has a rich history going back to 1890 when Martin Shatley was miraculously cured of a skin disease after dipping his hands and face into a cool stream that is now known as Shatley's Springs.  For the full story head over to... http://www.shatleysprings.com/history.htm 

 



If you're ever in the area and want to stop in for a visit - expect amazing food, an abundance of meaningful conversations void of WiFi, TV Screens, music and ringing cell phones.   

After settling in at our little cabin we soon met up with the cousins...  

My cousin Sheryl
and her Mom Jo.



Daniel and his cousin Gage
just a few weeks older than him.

My Cousin Brian & I.









Granny Ada and I.

One place that had really been on my mind to visit was Granny's Ada's home.  Today folks talk about being poor, but it dulls in comparison to the memories I have of Granny's Ada's home.  It was an old shack with electric but no indoor plumbing.  The walls were covered in newspaper and you had to risk meeting a snake if you wanted to use the outhouse.  That is where my Grandfather was raised and I wanted my boys to see this place. 

I was unable to get inside but I managed to stick my arm through the back door to get some pictures of the past.  Things were as I remembered them, except for the collection of trophies that were along one wall.  This puzzled others in the family too, so we assumed that someone simply stored them there after Granny Ada's death, and forgot about them. 

 

 

 

 

We also spent some time over at Granny Annie's old place.  The house is currently being fixed up by my cousin Barb and is being used for storage.  My memories of Granny Annie include Biscuits, Raggedy Ann Dolls (she made several of them for me) and Bread & Butter Pickles.  Perhaps I knew this, but obviously I forgot...Granny Annie once made all the biscuits and cobblers in the kitchen of Shatley Springs.  When I mentioned to Lee McMillan (the owner of Shatley Springs) whose Granddaughter I was he smiled of spoke fondly of Annie and what a wonderful cook she was so many years ago.

Granny Annie and I with my parents, brother and Uncle Steve.

Granny Annie's House

    
It is safe to say that I returned to Pennsylvania more grateful for my own house than when I left.  I hope my children feel the same.  May they never feel sorry for themselves because they don't everything they want.  If only more people could go back in time like we did to see how many folks in this country used to live - not because they were lazy or going through a difficult time but because it was just the way things were back then.  

I look forward to returning one day...

13 Slices of Pie

Martha Stewart was recently interviewed and had this to say...

“Who are these bloggers? They're not trained editors at Vogue magazine. I mean, there are bloggers writing recipes that aren't tested, that aren't necessarily very good, or are copies of everything that really good editors have created and done. So bloggers create kind of a popularity, but they are not the experts. And we have to understand that.”  (Emphasis added)

She took a lot of heat for her comments from the blogging community.  Someone is out of touch with reality. Generations have thrived without chefs in white hats and food labs in New York City.  You haven't really cooked until you've made Whoopie Pies with a baby attached to your leg, kneaded bread to relieve the stress of the day or GASP...let you kids lick the brownie batter off the spatula. 

Before the "experts" told us how to birth our babies, raise our children and feed our husbands there were Mothers, Aunts and Grandmothers.  Both my maternal and paternal Grandmothers left this world before I entered it.  All I can cling to are pictures, old recipes and the memories of those who knew them.  But it recently occurred to me that I didn't have any of those things for my paternal grandparents.  So for the past few months I've been accumulating treasures and tidbits about Anna Elizabeth Devonshire (born 1908) and her husband Theodore Roosevelt Dunfee (born 1904).  I originally thought this would be a simple post with some pictures and a recipe.  However, searching for a pumpkin pie recipe and confirming some dates led to more information than I expected.

I'll do my best to paint an accurate picture of the Dunfee family in this post.  The canvas may look like it came from the easel of Norman Rockwell.  The painting clearly depicts some interesting characters but their motivations, the sounds of the scene and what lies beyond the edge of the frame is left to your imagination.

Before the Duggars there were the Dunfees.  Thirteen children in all, with nine boys and four girls.  My dear Grandmother had six sons before her first daughter - oh sigh.   No one turned their head when a Mom had a dozen children or more back in those days.  Pictured below you'll see...(listed in birth order)



Thirteen children of Theodore & Anna Dunfee.
Photo courtesy of Ruth Dunfee Taylor.

Arthur

Theodore

James

Harold

David

Willard

Mary

Ruth

Esther

Paul

Donnie

Beatrice

Warren
 

I am the daughter of David (1931), his fifth child from his second marriage (my half sister Joy used to joke that I was from his second litter).  He is pictured at the far left in a suit and tie.  He has always taken great care and pride in his appearance.  Now that I see these old pictures of my Grandfather (below), I'm guessing he learned that from his Dad.

This Pennsylvania family lived in the Oxford and Cochranville areas before moving to Delaware in 1950.  They weren't rich but they always had plenty to eat.  Mom Mom Dunfee baked her own bread, made Squirrel Pot Pie and cooked up turnips and poke for supper.  (I know all about the turnips and poke because my Dad brought those things to our dinner table too.) 

My Dad managed to stay warm at night by wrapping up a cast iron clothes iron (handles were removable) in newspaper and taking it to bed with him.  Not in his own bed and certainly not in his own room.  Their house had three bedrooms - one for the parents, one for the boys and one for the girls. 

Bare feet were fashionable in the summertime for the Dunfee clan.   That is...they didn't have the money to shoe the children until school started.  One school that the children attended was the Highland Township Consolidated School in the village of Gum Tree just outside of Cochranville, better known today as the Highland Township Building.  At one time this was also where the congregation of Highland Baptist Church met.  My parents are charter members of that church and I recall my Dad being so tickled that he got to return to his school to attend Sunday Services.  Before our church could call the building home it would need a lot of renovations.  I spent many chilly Saturdays in that old building while my Dad did things like construct a stage and install Double Dutch doors for the nurseries.  

Like my Grandfather, all the Dunfee boys became carpenters.  All but one worked for The Carpenter's Union Local 626 of New Castle, Delaware.  The Delaware Memorial Bridge, Concord Mall and Interstate 95 were made with Dunfee hands.  Some of my earliest memories are of "going down to the Local" with my Dad when he was out of work.  In a back room full of cigarette smoke the brothers and other carpenters would play cards - probably Rummy.  One day while they were in the middle of a game I went behind a freestanding chalkboard to cut some paper with my new red scissors and eventually my hair.  Dad never noticed but Mom sure did when we got home.



Anna & Theodore at Brandywine Park (year unknown). 
Photo courtesy of Ruth Dunfee Taylor.

Mothers do notice everything.  I wonder what my grandmother noticed as she raised her thirteen children.  Did she have the time and energy to act upon all she noticed? When the boys required discipline, the girls wanted affection or the husband longed for admiration, did she push forward and continually give of herself or did she at times grow weary of all that was demanded of her?

Anna Dunfee with her half brother Warren Smith.
Photo courtesy of Ruth Dunfee Taylor. 

I don't have answers to these questions.  Mom Mom Dunfee died of heart failure on Thanksgiving Day in 1960.  Long before I was born and when many of my cousins were just learning to walk, she was gone.  Tombstones and genealogies don't tell the personal stories of those that have gone before us.  So besides these few pictures and a pumpkin pie recipe you'll see at the bottom of this post...this is all I have of her.

On several occasions I recall my father talking about Aunt Jennie and how she was so kind to him and the rest of the family.  All these years I assumed she was an Aunt, but her name is not found in the Dunfee Family Tree.  After a little digging I unearthed some stories that shed some light on why Jennie McDonald  was apart of the family and how the actions of her and some other kind souls forever changed the life of Theodore and his little brother James.

My Grandfather, Theodore Roosevelt Dunfee was born to Harry Henry & Jennie Lilley Dunfee in 1904.  He was welcomed by five older siblings - Edwin (1894), Mary (1896), Ruth (1897), Chester (1898) and Henrietta (1902).  No doubt he was named after the man of the same name who was nominated by the Republican Party to run for President that same year.  

In 1906 my Great-Grandmother Jennie gave birth to a seventh child named James.  Sadly, she was only able to celebrate one birthday with her son before Tuberculosis took her life on September 28, 1907.  Just over a year later on October 1, 1908 Harry remarried Clara Thawley and they had six more children together.  

I am puzzled by what took place in that year between losing one wife and marrying another.  Harry gave up the children from his first marriage to foster care (or to the orphanage, where Mary was sent) because he could not care for them properly.  Only Henrietta "Etta" remained with him. 

Theodore and James stayed together but were separated from their four older siblings and moved from the Philadelphia area to the Oxford area.  There they were raised as foster children by Dr. Donald & Jennie McDonald, who had two daughters Emily and Jenny and one son named Clyde. (Sources also say that their names were Dr. David & Isabella McDonald, with five children.  Nicknames make family research very difficult) Theodore and James retained the Dunfee last name because at that time no one over the age of 40 was permitted to adopt children.

The Reed family were close friends with the McDonalds and had some involvement in the upbringing of the Dunfee brothers.  Both families attended Oxford Presbyterian Church.  Sarah Reed and her friend Mabel Cummings, lived with Sarah's father.  They were all "society" families in Oxford.  Jennie McDonald even wrote for the society column for the Oxford paper.  Sarah Reed has been credited with designing the "new" Navy uniform which was created between World War I and World War II.       

Over the years searches were made by the older siblings to locate Theodore and James, but they were unsuccessful.  But in 1950 a connection was made.  These orphans now had children and grandchildren of their own and they were finally able to be reunited with their childhood.  The event was recorded in the Coatesville Record newspaper on March 30, 1950. 

I made a copy of the original newspaper clipping at the Chester County Historical Society in West Chester, Pennsylvania.  According to my Aunt Mary, the reunion was actually held at the Dunfee farm in Cochranville and the middle name of James was Harvey, not Darlymple (which is a last name associated with the Dunfees, but I'm not sure why is showed up here). 



Left to Right: Mary, Theodore, Ruth, & Henrietta
Photo Courtesy of Ruth Dunfee Taylor

Oxford, March 30 - After a separation of 42 years, a family of eight was finally united on Sunday, March 26, during a family reunion held at Camden, N.J.  Theodore Roosevelt Dunfee , of Cochranville, and James Darlymple Dunfee, of Oxford, were two of the seven sisters and brothers who met for the occasion.  Their father, Henry Dunfee, of Stony Creek, N.J., is still living, but all the members of the family were split up following the death of the mother while all were quite young.  This reunion marked the first occasion the entire family had been together since that time. 


Uncle Art & Aunt Doris in 1958 with
(left to right)
Ruth, Howard, Marie and Arthur Jr.

As promised, here is Mom Mom Dunfee's recipe for Pumpkin Pie.  It has been tested by generations and as far as I'm concerned, if you give birth to 13 children you are an expert at many things.  I had a hard time tracking it down, but my cousin Ruth (Arthur's daughter) graciously passed it along to me.  It was originally preserved by Aunt Ruth (Dunfee Berry) who went to heaven just a few years ago. (Yes, we have a lot of Ruths in the family)   A big thanks to my cousins Ruth and Arthur Jr. "Bubby" who were the backbone of this blog post.  Bubby especially has devoted a lot of time to Dunfee Family History.  My Aunt Mary (Elizabeth Dunfee Nickloy and known as "Peg") of Overland Park, Kansas and Aunt Mabel (Mrs. Willard Dunfee) of Elsmere, Delaware were also a huge help in piecing this story together.

If you're one of the many Dunfee cousins (and there must be hundreds), I would love to hear your own stories about our family before they are lost.  Any clarifications or corrections are also welcomed.  It would be fun to write a Part II with more information about our Grandmother Anna Elizabeth. 



A gooseneck pumpkin growing in my garden.

Dunfee Pumpkin Pie

2 cups of steamed pumpkin

    (1 gooseneck pumpkin)

½ cup brown sugar

½ teaspoon cinnamon

¼ teaspoon ginger

Slice, remove seeds, bake at
350° for 1 hour, then puree.

1/8 teaspoon cloves

½ teaspoon salt

1 slightly beaten egg (or 2 egg yolks)

1 cup milk



1.  Get gooseneck pumpkin.  Peel and cut in to squares.

2.  Cook until done.  Add about 1½ cups of water to steam pumpkin.  Cook and put through ricer or food processor. 

3.  Blend until smooth - puree.

4.  Add ingredients and bake in pie shell at 450° for 15 minutes, then reduce to 350° and bake for 45 minutes.

 

 Serves 12 (or 13 if that's how many kids you have)

(As you can see in the pictures, I process 

my pumpkins a little differently because 

I find it impossible to peel pumpkins.)

 

Pie Shell

2 cups of sifted flour

2/3 cup Crisco

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

Blend, then add 6 Tablespoons of cold water.

 

I put foil around my crust just until the last ten minutes of baking.

 

I tested this recipe three times to perfect the directions.  It melted in my mouth (especially with a scoop of Turkey Hill Vanilla Ice Cream) every time, but the pie spilt when I pulled it out of the oven.  While I did use fresh pumpkin, I drain mine to the consistency of canned pumpkin, so I found it necessary to reduce the cooking time by 20 minutes or more to prevent splitting.  If you're using fresh pumpkin that's a little runny, then this cook time will work great.   



 

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Indian Summer Memories

It's been a few months since I last collected some thoughts in my blog.  Here are the top three reasons pictured below.  I honestly don't know how so many homeschooling Moms with more children than I have find the time to publish so many fabulous recipes, craft ideas and pictures of their beautifully decorated homes.  The days are many that I'm just trying to keep my head above water.  

 

The warm weather has lingered these October days.  Indian Summers are such a blessing!  We did our best to get in a few more trips to Dutch Wonderland with our Season Passes.  Daniel spent many of our visits oblivious to his surrounds but he has started to take notice to the many sights and sounds of the park.  He really enjoyed a train ride during our last visit, but his favorite ride is on Jeremy's back.  Daniel does well in his stroller but it doesn't compare to the joy of being close to his Daddy with a better view of his surroundings.         

 

 

Daniel is small for his age but quickly learning to better maneuver in his world.  He spends many mornings at our basement sliding glass door playing with the cats and dancing with the curtain.  He longs to be outside each day, so I anticipate having another restless little boy this winter.   

Because Jonathan and Daniel have birthdays just five days apart we celebrated with one party this past weekend. There are eight years between these boys but they enjoy a special connection that's hard to explain but easy to observe.  Their relationship brings such joy to my heart - especially since Jonathan and Jason fight ALL THE TIME!  Jonathan recognizes how great it is for Daniel to have an older brother and he regularly complains at me that he doesn't have a big brother.  He seems to understand that it is impossible for me to do anything about that, but he still brings it up when he's looking for something to be grumpy about. 

Just before Daniel blew out the candle on his whoopie pie he had his first adventure.   Five minutes of freedom.  Five minutes that I could not find him.  Yes, I lost my baby!  I plopped him down in the hallway for a quick stop in the Little Girl's Room.  With so many grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins in the house for the party - I thought he would meet up with one of them.  But Daniel was no where to be found when I asked who had him.  I looked upstairs, downstairs and even outside - everywhere but my bedroom because my door was closed.  Never under estimate the determination of a red head!  Daniel managed to open my bedroom door, close it behind him and headed right for our second bathroom.  When I found him he was grinning from ear to ear with the toilet brush IN HIS MOUTH!  Happy to find him - but Ughhh!  Wanting to kiss him but he was just sucking on the toilet brush like he had just found the world's biggest lollipop.  I wiped his mouth off ceremonially, but really, the damage had been done.  No kisses for him until after he ate his whoopie pie.  

 

Jonathan turned nine this year.  He has displayed such maturity these past twelve months helping out with the baby, so I thought he could handle the responsibility of a Bow & Arrow set.  It is possibly the best gift I have ever purchased for him - we both think so.  He has already spent many hours with it.  The set came with a bow, three arrows and a quiver.  My favorite feature is the dense foam ball at the end of each arrow.  This means no one gets hurt and the lawn mower won't find the arrows before Jonathan does.  I purchased this gift at BackyardBallistics from Etsy. 

 

Speaking of Etsy...there are only 70 more days until Christmas.  Etsy is a wonderful place to find little treasures for those special people in your life.  If you're not familiar with the site it is a place to buy/sell all things handmade and vintage.  I'm not a fan of the short lived toys that come from China so this is where I go when I want to purchase a quality gift.  Happy Shopping!  Pin It

Bradford County Holiday

Expensive Family Vacations are overrated.  For the price of a tank of gas in my Honda we had a wonderful time away this past weekend.  When you find yourself catching up with old friends at funerals (like I did way too many times last year) - it is time to update the social calendar.  I woke up one morning last January and said to Jeremy, "Let's visit the Binkley Family over the 4th of July."  Maybe I had a dream about them, I don't remember, but I contacted the family right away and made arrangements for a midsummer holiday at their guest cabin in Bradford County.  Mr. Binkley (formally known as Pastor Binkley) was our Youth Pastor once upon a time when Jeremy and I were teenagers enthralled with one another.  Our hearts sank in 2001 when he announced one Sunday morning that due to some health concerns for his wife, he would be leaving his position and seeking a "regular job".  Since then, we asked him to return to be a part of our wedding in 2003, but other than that our contact with the family has been sparse.  I couldn't wait to catch up with them around a campfire.   

Over the years I've asked myself, "Where have all the lighting bugs gone?"  When I was a kid not that long ago, those little critters used to light up an entire field on a summer night.  Now when my kids want to catch them in a jar they see one light up our yard and try to chase it in the dark.  But as we sat around the campfire Wednesday night I gazed upon a hypnotic display of blinking lights, it was so beautiful.  When I asked about the bountiful firefly population the response was simple, "They don't use pesticides around here."  Make sense to me.

 

Campfires, marshmallows, a trampoline, ATVs, walks and blueberry picking was how we spent our entire weekend.  No lines, no stores, no parking fees or hassles for several days - it was perfect.  Jonathan soon told me, "Mom, this is the best vacation ever!" 

 

 

 

I too thought it was a great time away.  We picked our own blueberries for only $2 a quart at Comfort Hill Acres Blueberry Farm.  We'll be having Blueberry Jam for sandwiches this winter.   

 

 

 

Daniel and I had lots of snuggle time on the swing.  While chatting outside one day, Jeremy noticed a head peek up out of the grass at us.  It was a lovely fawn just passing through.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Luke 5:16 says..."But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed."  Because our time away was a family vacation, it wasn't lonely, but it was quiet.  God knows that we need to remove ourselves from the noise of life to focus upon Him. These peaceful opportunities allow me to reflect on the many blessings God has bestowed upon our little family.  He is good to us!  

 

 

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