Tractors, Tears, and Treats

What a treat it is for us to go up to visit my dad and Gilda on the farm.

It's the place I grew up...from infant to marriage.
It's the place I returned anxiously to every summer after a long year at college.
It's the place that will always hold a certain sort of magic to me.

No matter how old I get...or how long the road between me and the farm...that place will always be home to me.

I think you understand.
It's not that where I am right now with my precious Paul and my dear children is not home...it is!
There is just something about that place where you grew up.
I would like to think that someday my kids will be just as sentimental about their childhood home as I am now.


I guess that's what makes it so hard to ever think of moving from here. You can physically grow out of a home, but a piece of your heart will always be there.
Always.

Here is one of the things that makes the farm home.

Tractors!

This particular tractor, "The B," was the very first tractor that my dad ever drove. How old were you dad? Seven?
My mom and brother bought this tractor from a relative down the road many years ago and gave it to Dad so that he could restore it.

It has given many rides to many grandchildren in the past 13 years!




Here's one of the newest little farmers getting ready to take his first ride on The B. He's thinking it over a little bit.



Well...maybe next time.



Here's a more willing subject.



And don't forget the other tractors on the farm...even if they are the garden tractors!



Carrie is getting some last minute pointers from Uncle Robbie before she drives The B all by herself!



"Wait for me, Brandy! I wanna swing too!"



"Oh, how I love to go up in a swing...up in the air so blue!"



Josh found out how much he really likes watermelon!
And how much he liked to get them with his fork and share them with Brandy.



"Hey, didn't you try to take me for a ride on a noisy tractor today?"



"Mom...should I be worried?"



Not a bit.

The Insightfulness of a Four-Year Old

This summer, my dad and Gilda and our family got web cams.

Here's a picture that Josh took of himself with the web cam...

 

What a blessing those little cameras have been for our family...especially the youngest members, Joshua and Matthew. I knew it would be fun for Dad to be able to see the kids whenever he wanted, but there was no way for me to foresee how meaningful it would be for the little boys...the ones who can't quite understand why they don't get to see Papa B and Grandma Gilda without driving for three to four hours.

But in the past few months, we have been able to watch Papa B eat one of the first ears of corn out of his sweet corn patch...butter and all. Josh has shown him cars, trucks, and light savers (sabers). :) Matthew has sat waving his little hand and blowing kisses. One afternoon, Josh was talking to Papa B and thought of something that he wanted to show him, so he took off running to his Lucky Drawer. On his way there, he hollered back over his shoulder, "Hey, Mommy! Leave Papa B right there!"

And there's nothing for me like seeing my dad sit and belly laugh over something that the kids have said to him. You just can't get all that from a telephone call.

Today, I realized how much a part of his life that web cam is for Josh.

He was sitting there on the arm of the couch while I was reading a book to William. Suddenly, he said, "Hey, Mom! Wouldn't it be neat if God had a web cam?! Then I could talk to Duke!" Duke is the dog that we had before Josh was born. We talk very fondly of Duke and have several pictures of him that Josh likes to look at.

Then he added, "And you could talk to your mom."

On a day when I am silently thinking of those who are already waiting for me in Heaven...Grandpa Bellman would have been 91 today, and he and Grandma would have celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary...I get teary.

What else is going on in that little head of his?

What's a Girl to Do?!

There was a little game that my dad and I used to play.

Before Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder had a name, I suffered from it.
For example, if I turned around in one direction, I would have to turn the other way before being able to continue what I was doing.

Today, I have to cut the fringe off my rugs, because I cannot stand for the fringe to be all messy looking.

Your fringe? That's O.K. Your fringe doesn't bother me. It's my fringe--the fringe that I have to live with--that bothers me.

My OCD? It's not what I would call extreme.
It's really just...a bother.

I have passed some of the tendencies on to my kids, genetically speaking.
Or maybe I should say, I have passed the tendencies on to some of my kids.
Notice the change-in-placement of the word "some."

That's right.
I have a son who does not seem to be bothered by, say, which way the bread on his sandwich is placed.

As I was saying, there was a little game that my dad and I used to play.
And now, I see, I am playing the same game with my son...in reverse fashion.

Picture this.
A mom (me) makes a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich for her beloved son (Joshua) to take on a trip to the museum.

Suddenly, Joshua begins "messing" with his sandwich.



"What are you doing, Joshua?"
Response?
A smile. Just a smile.



Joshua peels the top bread from the sticky insides of his sandwich, all the while, smiling.



Then, just as quick as you please, he flips the top bread. This causes the top of the bottom bread to be lined up with the bottom of the top bread!
Are you picturing this?!
This sandwich is all backward!

And the crazy thing is, he did it on purpose.
And he is totally enjoying his sandwich this way!

As for me?
It absolutely drives me crazy!



Many moons ago, my dad would do the very same thing.
He would sit there, right in front of me as he was making his sandwich, and with a flourish all his own, he would slap that top bread on upside down.
And smile.

Try as I might to switch it around...sometimes even on the sly...he would catch me and put it back the way he made it.

It became a little game for us.
One that I secretly enjoyed.
And one that I had nearly forgotten until last Thursday morning.



Teasing=Love in our house when I was a little girl.
And apparently, it still does.

Christmas Fun Has Begun

It seems that every December there is an event that kicks off Christmas for us--anyway in my mind there is. For me, it's usually a different event every year that signals the start of the Christmas festivities.

This year, going up to my dad's house seemed to start it off for me. Maybe because of all the Christmas baking we did. Or maybe it was the shopping.

I think, though, that it may have been Joshua's anticipation. He's 3 this Christmas, so I don't really think that he has much memory of last Christmas. Everything is new to him again this year--and there is so much more recognition of what we're doing.

In other words, he's really "getting it."

So, here is a rundown of our weekend up north.

It began with the car ride. As the kids get older, the car rides become more bearable--and might I say...enjoyable! We haven't driven this far with Matthew yet because he really hasn't been a very good car rider.

To our relief, he is now...

and so is William.



Here's a picture of Paul, Matthew, Carrie, and Gilda waiting for the official "GO" to pass out the presents.



Then, of course, comes play time!




With a little teasing thrown in.



And what would a picture of Paul be without his infamous bunny ears?



Joshua has just gotten caught with his hand in Matthew's Gerber Puffs. The Banana Puffs are not safe when Joshua is around!


And the lighting of the candles.

That's my dad's younger brother sitting next to him...my Uncle Rick. I have to throw in the "younger" because Uncle Rick makes sure that he includes that whenever he can. He is said to resemble Kenny Rogers, the older version of Michael McDonald and Santa Claus.

I would say that he probably is most like Santa. In fact, I was talking to him on the phone one evening last week, giving him Christmas ideas for the kids, when Josh came up and sat beside me. I told him that he should go to the other room, but he said, "No." Immediately Uncle Rick said, "Tell him that you're talking to Santa and that he should be a good boy and listen to his mommy." I told him that and very quickly he sat up straight and stopped talking. I handed the phone to Josh and Uncle Rick gave the most impressive "Ho! Ho! Ho!" that I've ever heard. Josh talked to him for a minute and then ran into the family room.



I think Dad looks pretty dog-gone good!
Dog-gone. There's that word again. I think I tried to use it once before and wasn't sure how to spell it. Oh well.

Gilda put the candles away to be used on Dad's 86th birthday! :)
Of course, we couldn't just leave it at that. The big kids had to figure out that Paul and I would be 58 years old then.
Thanks.




And, of course, a little rest and relaxation!
Much needed after all that excitement.
And eating.

I didn't even get any pictures of the wonderful hometown Wooden Peel pizza that we look forward to when we visit!

It's the best pizza ever--owned by a local family and passed down to the next generation. It's right downtown by one of only two stoplights in town and made it a great place to hang out after high school football games. Many of my teenage memories include the Wooden Peel.



And what would Christmas be without a few Christmas memories.

This is the angel that was on top of our Christmas tree when I was a kid. Dad even decorates the tree with the same kind of big lights (although probably much more advanced) that we had when I was growing up. I think the ones that we used were called "Cool Brights" because just when a bulb would get really, really hot, it would shut off. These don't do that, but they look like the same kind.

I can't look at that Christmas angel without thinking of Mom. This was our 16th Christmas without her, but when Christmas comes, the memories and Christmas traditions I follow make her seem very near.



We ended our stay with a drive out into the country to see my Grandpa's farmland. He died in May of 2006 and the land was auctioned off at the end of that summer to his Amish neighbors and friends.

So really, the land is no longer Grandma and Grandpa Bellman's. The house that I remember has been taken down and replaced with a very big--and I say typical--Amish home. I'm happy about that. It is beautiful, and I'm sure that they will be able to do some of the repair to the farm that Grandpa couldn't keep up with anymore.



A quick apology to my brother Rob. He was there! Honest. I just think he must be a really good camera-dodger!

You just wait. I'll get you when you come down here for Christmas!