No room at the inn!

Last night I gained added insight into the nativity and the kids learned a thing or two.

We had combined with a couple of families to have a special family night. Shania and Andrew were the only two of our kids that made it to the event, but that is a whole different story and suffice it to say, we'll be trying again when behavior is better. Good luck!!!

Anyway, since we didn't have any little kids to play the parts the teenagers and older kids had to step in (they were thrilled to death) and the adults were playing the part of the innkeepers. The grandmother of one of the families was designated as the first innkeeper and the conversation began as such:

Knock on door

Innkeeper: Hello?

Joseph: Do you have any rooms?

Innkeeper: Are you married?

Joseph: Uhhhh . . . .

Innkeeper: Well, I guess I don't have any room.


We were laughing so hard we had to stop the whole production. And what was even funnier was the grandma just sat there with a smile on her face as if there wasn't a single problem with what she had said.

Things don't change and too bad you can't follow through in today's world as grandma did last night.

Dexter on the town!

The kids dressed up Dexter and he was ready to take on the world.





You can tell he looks absolutely thrilled!!!

Onion body armor

I usually refrain from advertising my good looks and otherwise covetous features. But, as many of you will want to adopt some of my fashion sense and beauty secrets I thought I would flatter myself just this once.

Deal of the Week!

I don't know about you, but shopping has gotten me completely befuddled and wanting to stay clear of anything that requires shelling out money. Here it is how many days until Christmas? and I'm still trying to figure out what gifts I can get from the kids' extensive lists. It isn't that I don't have ideas or their lists are lacking, oh no!!! That would be the easy part.

Come here, we have the deal of the century -- oh did we forget to mention you have to sign all these contracts, deals, etc. before you get the good price. My store is better -- oh did we forget to mention we don't have the item in stock any more. What do you mean it costs how much???? It is plastic for crying out loud.

So, the battle goes on and you will find me on Christmas Eve frantically addressing gift cards because the hard drive of my brain just crashed and I am told there are no more upgrades for my model.

My Childhood Home

My childhood home. It was a grand, old farmhouse. Located at 1297 Old Darby Road (later changed to 2811 Old Darby Road), Darby, Montana, was fondly nicknamed “The White House” – whether by envious neighbors or because of the many people coming and going didn’t matter. To me, it was a palace, an incredible masterpiece that demanded the attention of a four, year old wrapped in the world of make-believe.

It didn’t take long for the oil drum for the furnace outside the window of the family room to be changed into a giant horse, which when painted white to match the siding on the house became the white stallion that would save all the damsels in distress.

The steep, narrow stairs to the upstairs became a perfect “mountain” for those rainy or snowy days on pillowcases or cookie sheets. You took your life in your own hands if you happened to walk around the corner on one of our many sledding expeditions.

The balcony outside my parents’ bedroom hosted many a scene from Romeo and Juliet. Not to mention ways of “breaking” into the mansion when we inadvertently locked ourselves out while playing Sherlock Holmes.

The ¾ wrap around porch was the arena for all of our olympic skating events, basketball tournaments, circus performances on the metal railings, and hours of sanding and painting.

The plaster walls in our bedrooms became wonderful and exciting archaeological digs for those evenings when sleep wouldn’t come and we were to “entertain” ourselves quietly in our beds.

The dungeon, or root cellar, filled hours of imagination as we crawled through spider webs, mouse droppings, jumped from apple barrel to apple barrel, swung from nylons full of onions, and even nursed baby kittens found under the stairs.

I’m sure my parents never dreamed of the games of hide-and-seek in the dirty clothes in the laundry, racing around the “oval” the stairs made of the outside rooms as we screeched and yelled in games of tag, late nights with the older siblings listening to their stories which at times ended in broken windows, the broken tiles on the roof left as evidence of sneaking from room-to-room not in the house but outside on the overhang, or the wonderful telephone games we would play as we shouted to each other through the heater vents.

My childhood home was filled with smells of baking bread, delicious meals, music, laughter, a flurry of activity, loving parents, quiet moments of reading, gospel study, and happy memories. I love and miss my childhood home – even more now that I need to create one of my own.

Our Crowning Jewels!!

Miffed and sniffing!!!!

I am writing and getting a load off my chest -- I knew there was something there under all of that!!

I all want you to know the reason my blog is boring and pathetic looking. You see, my mentor has taken an unauthorized sabbatical. While I am here sweating and grimacing at this stupid computer, she is home being waited on hand and foot. Let me paint you a picture, thus helping you all feel my pain and suffering.

For a week she had servants selecting her menu, doing the shopping, and literally putting the food right in her body. Laundry??? We won't even go there. Sheets were changed, fresh towels provided, and her pillow plumped on demand. Royalty is what comes to mind when I think of the patience of the attendants even changing her clothes. She didn't even have to change the toilet paper roll. I even heard from the spider on the wall there were times she was so caught up in herself she had the hired help bring the bathroom facilities to her. Talk about first-rate service.

A nice, little, old lady came and would read to her, fix her hair, be her answering service, and even crocheted a blanket that she would wrap herself in.

When it was time for exercise, the machines were brought to her. I also heard from my "spider" that if my mentor decided she was too tired to exercise the hired help would push the machine for her. What will they think of next?

She has since relocated. She got tired of the hired help she originally had and has now moved on. Some people can be so ungrateful. She now lounges in bed and chats with her friends on the Internet. She will tell you she is homebound, but my "spider" told me she was seen carousing around the school during school hours.

So, here I sit. Wallowing in my incompetence. Completely lost and cursing. Don't you feel sorry for me?