New Additions

We've been rejoicing about the birth of our seventh grandchild. She was born just a little over a week ago to a woman whose name I don't know.  Her parents are two lovely people we consider a son and a daughter.  The new baby is perfect and I can't wait to hear her call me Nana for the first time. And I should probably explain.

I always wanted four children.  Even as a little girl I would wile away the hours playing with my dolls and dreaming up names for my kids. My firstborn would be a boy.  Then I would have twins, one of each.  And finishing with a girl seemed right. Sometimes, in my active imagination, the twins came first.  But there were always twins.  

Fortunately, God knew that I didn't handle sleep deprivation very well so he just gave me one at a time.  Yes, a boy came first.  Probably a good thing since Paul and I only had a boy's name picked out.  No, they didn't do ultrasounds back in prehistoric days unless they had a fearfully good reason. So I just assumed it was a boy because that was the plan.  Two and a half years later, a beautiful, bald, baby girl arrived.  We were still debating her middle name at the hospital and we took a vote with the nurses.  Praise the Lord she wasn't a boy or we would have had to start from scratch on the naming process.

I may have mentioned before that Paul came from a family of nineteen.  As one of the older ones, he informed me that he had already helped raise a family and he wasn't excited about starting another one.  Since I wanted four and he wasn't too enthused about any, the obvious compromise was two.  (He has since recovered from his teenage experiences as a surrogate parent to his siblings and seeing how much fun his own could be he has expressed the wish we would have had a few more of our own.  Too late, I'm afraid.)

I was the youngest of eleven and that meant a full house on holidays when all my older brothers and sisters came home with their own broods and mayhem ensued for a few days.  As the years went by, and after the passing of both my parents, my siblings began to spend those holidays with their own families.  Most of them had grandchildren providing plenty of their own excitement.  I started to regret all over again that we didn't have a few more of our own.  And then God gave them to me.  All grown up and potty-trained and everything.

Our beautiful daughter, no longer bald or a baby, married Jim from a family small by Amish standards.  His only sibling, a sister married a man from a large, very low order Amish family.  And that's when things started to get interesting. In the stricter sects of Amish, shunning is a common practice.  Although this young man had never become a member of the church, those of his family who remain Amish have little or nothing to do with him.   Paul and I have had a little experience with the shunning business.  Not among our immediate families, who, fortunately for us, did not hold tightly to the tradition, but we were aware of the practice being used against our parents years ago. It's not a fun thing, to be ostracized because you are different. 

After a few years of Christmases with a short table and relative calm, Paul and I were thrilled to have Marlene and Aaron come whenever they were free for the holidays.  That was most of the time, since Aaron was without family, as it were, and Marlene's family (Jim) was at our house already.  I told them they were the two kids I wanted but didn't have.  And so it was.  And is.

Aaron and Marlene have been in the adoption process for some time now. It's a journey not meant for the faint of heart.  It takes far more stamina than simply giving birth.  After much patience, ups, downs, thrills, disappointments, nail-biting waits and lots of paperwork, the call came last week that a little girl would be theirs.  If only all the women who feel like abortion is their only option would be able to see the joy they could be giving to hearts longing to hold a baby!  We laughed.  We cried.  I think there was even a little screaming from some of us.

I posted the exciting news on Facebook, that we have our seventh grandchild.  After several inquiries from people who know a lot about us, but didn't know we have twice the number of children they thought, I decided to explain.  And for anyone who thinks if you're not blood it doesn't count quite as much, well, you're wrong.  I have other extended-family members who became part of my life through adoption.  I can't imagine my life without them.  They mean just as much to me as those who were born to us. Maybe more.  Okay, family, don't freak out.  I love even you crazy ones we had no choice in taking.

The older I get the more thankful I am for our over-sized family trees.  Between Paul and I we have twenty-eight siblings. I gave up on sending birthday cards years ago; I just email instead.  And if I ever find myself homeless, well, two weeks at each place and the year is covered.  But if I were an only child I know what I would do.  I would "adopt" a few other people who have few options on holidays.  I'm guessing it wouldn't take long at all to fill up a house.  Add some good food, some music, and some great table games (might I suggest Euchre, Rook, and Settlers of Catan!) and you have instant memory-makers. And there's no need for Christmas shopping.  Win. Win.

Here's to a long table on Christmas, shouting to be heard above the laughter, and chaos supreme.  Here's to the itty-bitty newest member of the family.  Sorry little girl, we're yours whether you like it or not.

Bird Talk

This morning Hazel explained the finer details of training doves.  She is starting with a new flock, fifty-five birds that have been kept inside their aviary since November. She purchased them from a place twenty miles away and the challenge is to reprogram them to accept this as their new home base. In two weeks she will start releasing some of them.  She explained they need to be hungry when she lets them out, late in the afternoon.  Since they will want to be back inside to roost when it's dark and they will be ready to eat a good meal, they will return to the coop of their own accord. Eventually they will be able to fly home from distances of up to three hundred miles.

When Hazel sees doves engaging in courting rituals she tags them, later placing them in nesting boxes to raise their own chicks; eventually she hopes to breed out the spotted birds and have a flock of snow white doves. Perfect for releasing at weddings, funerals, and any occasion where an impressive air show is called for.  It was all very intriguing.  How do these birds know where their home is?  How do identical birds decide who they want to choose as a mate? 

After a relaxing day hanging out, relaxing, and generally feeling stress seeping out of my system, I joined the fifty or so relatives that had congregated for an evening of awesome food, fellowship, ping pong, card games, and an all-around good time. I have three brothers and two sisters living within an hour or two of our present location.  Along with nieces, nephews, in-laws, and a friend or two it made for a lively party. I am blessed to have siblings I actually like.  Getting together with them is always enjoyable and since we are scattered far and wide it doesn't happen as often as I'd like.  Maybe that's why we all like each other.

On The Road Again

This has been a long winter.  Especially for those of us in the frozen north.  Paul and I have been counting down the days until we can head south for a few weeks of sun and relaxation. This past week I’ve had plenty of time to contemplate the coming vacation while I was laid up with the flu.

Last week I went from perfectly fine to sick as a dog one night while I slept.  General malaise followed by ever-increasing misery culminated in a low point of hugging the porcelain throne whilst hurling forth some nasty.  To add to my misery, the power was out and there’s no window in my bathroom.  Fortunately I remembered which corner the toilet was in so I managed to crawl to it in the dark.

My first concern was whether or not one week was sufficient for recovery because Florida was waiting and I needed to be on my way, nausea notwithstanding.  I hobbled off to the doctor and explained to him that I do not have it in my schedule to be ill so “give me something.”  Being the compassionate sort, he obliged and I left the pharmacy with all manner of pills and potions.  I can now tell you which ones will increase the aforementioned queasiness and which ones might actually aid in healing.

This morning the big day was finally here.  With yet another winter storm forecast for this coming weekend, we felt like we were escaping in the nick of time.  Our plan is to spend a few days in West Virginia visiting my brother, two sisters, and their clans, after which we will mosey on south until we reach a place where the temperature is above freezing.  We are both beginning to wonder if such a place exists.  We told and listened to every global warming joke there is and they long ago ceased to be humorous.  Now they are usually accompanied with lots of eye-rolling and sarcasm.

I don’t think I’ve ever been to West Virginia in the wintertime.  With all the leaves gone from the trees, we were impressed with all the trails visible up the sides of the mountains.  Who, we wondered, would be crazy enough to actually drive on such roads?  Oh, yeah, probably my relatives. One of my sisters, along with her husband, lives at the top, yes, the top, of one of those mountains.  Their view is spectacular and they live completely off the grid.  In a nice house with electric, flush toilets, and everything.  Every time we go there Paul ruminates for weeks about how he can get us off the grid.  Either we annoy the neighbors in our subdivision with some really picturesque solar panels or we join the Amish.  Neither seems acceptable to me right now.  Maybe some day.

My brother Bill lives close to the top of a mountain too. With a horse, a dog, some goats, a donkey, and a flock of doves, he and his wife Hazel are clearly animal lovers.  Their dog, Katie, made us feel like long-lost friends.  Hazel rescued Katie from the middle of the road when she was just a wee pup.  Bill said in their discussions on what sort of dog they wanted to own he preferred a blue heeler and Hazel wanted a beagle.  I kid you not, Katie had a beagle head and a blue heeler body. 

After supper, stuffed with delicious steaks from beef that was frolicking outside last month, we could see deer scattered in the front yard, in the back yard, and probably in the side yard, if we would have looked. With bellies full, it was a fun evening of catching up and solving the world’s problems.  

I’m feeling better already just knowing the twelve inches of white stuff predicted for Ohio is not going to fall until we are well away.