For the Love of Green

My dad noticed the red tractors.

I asked him on the phone last night if he had been reading my blog posts, and he said, "Yes I have.  That last one had a lot of red in it."

So, I decided that in honor of my dad...who has loved green for many, many years...I would post a little less red in this post.

I say "a little less," because one of his loves 

just happens to be red.

You'll see.

As I was looking through pictures from this summer, I found the ones from back in June...from his retirement party...and I remembered that the party took place during one of my dry spells in blogging, so I never wrote about it.

It was a long time getting to that retirement party...

Dad decided that he would retire last December, right around the time that he turned 70 years old.

But his retirement date was decided for him.

In October, he had a heart catheterization that found 

several blockages.

Dad had open heart surgery--a quadruple bypass--

on November 2.

Then back to the hospital for two blood clots in his lungs.

Then back again with pneumonia.

Carotid artery surgery in February.

Prostate surgery in July.

When I was a little girl, Dad worked at the grain elevator in town.  It was a tough job, being that he was a farmer himself. He would work late at the elevator while the local farmers brought in their grain, and then he would come home and farm late to get his own crops in.  I remember when Mom would pack a supper picnic for him, and we would take it to him at the elevator.

In 1987, Dad changed jobs.

He went to work at an oil company in town.

It was neat, because it was owned by a cousin, so the last name of the oil company was the same as our last name.  Being a small town, Dad worked here with family and friends.  I think that Dad would tell you that it was a great place to work.

The town cemetery is right across from the oil company.

When Mom died in 1993, she was buried in a new section, down drive 7.

Drive 7 is right across from the drive into the oil company.

I always thought that was neat too.

So, twenty-three years after he started working at the oil company, he retired.

Because of Dad's health, the retirement party was postponed until June.

The party was on a Wednesday afternoon at the oil company.

William, Josh, Matthew, and I made the trip north.

Dad and Gilda

Dad, Gilda, William,

Matthew, and Joshua

Gilda and I traded places...

Josh found these Spiderman gloves at Dad and Gilda's house before we came into town.

He is doing some Spiderman/Darth Vader hand thingy...

This was a retirement party for Dad and two other employees. 

Dad and Jerry not only worked here together for those 23 years, 

but they were also friends in high school.

Again with the Darth Vader chokey thing?

"Bring it on!"

This is Dad's cousin and boss, Jim.

Sitting down is his oldest son, Jamie.

Jamie and I went to school together...all thirteen years...

and we walked down the graduation aisle together.

That happens when you have the same last name.

And live in a small town.

This is Jamie's mom and daughter.

His daughter sang "Amazing Grace." 

Remember that face.

I wouldn't be too surprised if you see her
on American Idol one day.

Cute cake!

And ice cream!

My baby brother, Rob.

Jim took lots of time talking about each of the employees and his history with them...

not only as boss, but as friend.
I was so surprised by my emotions at the end of the afternoon.
I was saying goodbye to and thanking Jim...and noticing how everyone had aged since I had last seen them.  These are people that I've known since I was a little girl.
And here was my dad retiring.
It hit me suddenly that we are all moving into
another season of life.
And then I thought of the cemetery across the street where Mom's body is buried.
I took the boys over to see the stone, and we talked about Mom.

Dad doesn't really mind the color red.

In fact, he likes it quite a bit.

This is the first tractor that Dad ever drove...he was pretty young.

Twenty years ago, he became the owner of it.

After much restoration, it now looks like this...and it is one of my kids' favorite tractors to take rides on.

Carl just died of cancer this summer.

He asked that Dad would bring it to the funeral home 

to sit in the parking lot during his viewing.

Ahhh...there's a bit of green.

Matthew loves riding on tractors and the lawn mowers, but he always holds his ears.

I love that my little boys, too, have been able to ride green tractors with my Dad.

After Grandpa's farm auction...can it possibly be that it was five years ago already?...I saw tractor after tractor being auctioned off, and I sadly thought that an era was over. 

But Dad couldn't let go completely.

I'm glad.

That's who my Dad is...Farmer.

Whether it be on a lawnmower or pulling weights at a tractor pull with a friend's tractor or just meandering down the lane on his little B, my dad should always have a tractor.

Brave Uncle Robbie.
He gave in to William's requests to let him drive his truck down the lane.

Uncle Robbie even has his head about him enough to wave at me...

or could that be a sign that he is in immediate danger and needs help?

You know what this really is, don't you?

Bragging rights.

I'm sure the first person he told was Carrie...our soon-to-be-driver.

Who hadn't been behind the wheel yet.

He did a great job behind the wheel and was a pretty happy guy.

Take a look over his left shoulder.

That is my history.

My background.

I think that in some way or other, I miss the farm every day.

It could be that I see a soy bean field.  Or hear the roar of a combine going past our house.

(Which I am hearing right now...right on cue!)

Memories of Mom remind me of the farm.

I have to tell you, though.

I'm pretty happy and content right here where I am.

One-Acre Jodi.

The amazing thing is that I have been here for almost 18 years.

In just a few years, I will have lived here longer than I lived on the farm.

This has become my past, present, and future.

And I love this home of mine.

Here is a video of some things that Jim said about Dad.

It doesn't look like it wants to play, but I am keeping it on here just in case it will.

I don't have everything that Jim said recorded, 

because my camera's batteries went dead.

:(

Enjoying contentment...and the color green,

A Taste of Home

Not too long ago, I asked my kids what they might think of someday when they thought of home.

I was really hoping that they wouldn't say, "Mom yelled a lot" or "Mom was always cleaning" or "Mom never cooked supper."

What they said made me smile..."The smell of just-baked banana bread and coffee."

I smile because it's those same sorts of things that make me think of my childhood home. Those yummy, homey kinds of scents that are way better than even the very best smelling Yankee Candle (which, in my opinion is the Spiced Pumpkin candle).

Those are the scents that can take me back to my childhood in an instant!

One of those very special memory foods is Apple Pizza Pie.
Mom made this one every fall.

For years now, we've made it a tradition to visit our local apple orchard (the very best apple orchard ever--that's just another one of my opinions). Each September when the Jonathan apples fill the trees, we pick a great big bag of those sweet-tart apples, bring them home, and make an Apple Pizza Pie.

It's something that we all look forward to...a very special part of our fall.




"Mommy's Yummy Pie Crust"

(This is copied directly from a recipe card that I must have copied when I was in the fourth grade...maybe 9 years old?)

For an 8 inch Two-Crust Pie
(I use a really big pizza pan, so I double my dough recipe.)

1 1/2 cups flour
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons shortening
3 tablespoons water

Combine flour and salt in mixing bowl. Cut in shortening. Add water. Mix with fork.

Roll out dough and place in a pizza pan. Trim and flute the edge.




Apple Pizza Pie
I have no idea where this recipe came from. Mom's recipe cards usually give credit to the person who gave her the recipe...but this one, written in someone else's handwriting, has no original baker's name on it.

Arrange the slices from 7 - 8 apples (more or less) close together and neatly over round crust.

Sprinkle apples with 1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice.

Combine 3/4 cup sugar and 2 teaspoons cinnamon. Sprinkle desired amount over apples. You may also add some nutmeg if you like.

Combine 3/4 cup flour, 1/2 cup sugar; cut in 1/2 cup butter till crumbly; sprinkle over top.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes or until the crust is brown and the apples are tender.

Now...drizzle with a thin confectioner icing. This is listed as optional on my recipe card, but we don't consider this an option in our house. :)




Yesterday afternoon...a beautiful, sunny, 70 degree day...we visited the apple orchard and picked a bag of Jonathan apples.

My brother, Rob, and his fiance...my soon-to-be sister-in-law (soon meaning three weeks away!)...were with us.

We took those apples home and made them into a taste of home.
Now I know why there is a recipe magazine with that name!

It's amazing how my childhood memories can make a connection to my children's childhood memories.

To me, Rob will always be my little brother, Robbie.
Silly Robbie!




Is it any wonder that I can't lose any weight?!
I'm busy trying to make some memories for my kids!
That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it!


Enjoying the Journey,

The Older Sibling(s) Effect

I have to believe that this is a common phenomenon...an observable occurrence.

A child...who used to be the only child...is confronted with a younger brother or sister. Although at first an intrusion in his or her life, this new little sibling proves to be quite a bit of fun.




And, he seems to like the attention that the older sibling(s) give him.




Especially when he growls on command.




And dances.




I can say that this is a common phenomenon with confidence, because I am an older sister with a younger brother.

A younger brother who was dressed up as a princess.
A younger brother who was pushed around in a baby carriage.
A younger brother who was "fancied up" with his grandma's makeup and perfume.
A younger brother who was dressed up as a groom in a wedding.
A younger brother who was always hosting a special Barbie and her entourage at his Hot Wheels races.

Was he a willing participant in these activities?

Well...yes and no.

He would never have chosen--or even thought--to do these things on his own.

As a mom, I can now see the tremendous influence an older sibling has on a younger brother or sister...for better or worse.

And, as much as we argued as kids (my mom used to call us "the Bickersons"), we have grown to be great friends who enjoy spending time together.

My prayer for my kids is that, no matter what the future holds for them, they will always be great friends and comrades.




And may they always remember to use their influence for good.


Enjoying the Journey,