Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Tuesday's Tale from the Tailboard
Empty Chairs
We celebrated Thanksgiving this past Sunday at Kip and Becky's. It gets harder every year to find a time when the family can all be together. With two firefighter schedules plus others in the family who work, it becomes a juggling act to come up with a date. And we've already chosen January 3 and 4 for our Christmas.
But we were together, and for that I am most grateful. Yes, we miss those that are gone. But that has nothing to do with the fire department. All across this nation there will be empty chairs around the Thanksgiving table no matter when or where it is celebrated.
Some chairs are empty because duty prevents the presence of one who would normally fill the spot. Soldiers, Firefighters, Policemen, doctors, nurses, farmers, ranchers, waitresses, cooks, housekeeping personnel, and the list goes on.
Some are empty and will never again be filled because they've given their lives to protect others.
Some are empty because of old age, or illnesses, or accidents, etc..
And some are empty because they were never filled, those who were lost before they were born.
Thanksgiving is not just one day of celebration. It is a choice we make, regardless of the circumstances. It is a lifestyle—Thanks-living!
But may we never forget that while we rejoice with those who rejoice, we are also to mourn with those who mourn.
Some people have a custom of setting a plate on the table for the unseen guest.
This year, why not place an empty chair in the room.
Thank God if the chair you place is only a symbol.
Pray for those for whom it represents so much more.
FROM OUR HEARTS TO YOURS
MAY YOUR HAVE A BLESSED THANKSGIVING
Monday, November 24, 2014
Mundane Monday
Life at the Bottom!!
Nothing quite so mundane as spending one's life at the bottom of a sink.!! But I don't have a dishwasher ( gasp!), so this is who greets me after each meal I actually cook. I say 'who', and give her a gender, because to me she's much more than a kitchen gadget. She's taught me so much. Really, she has:
1. She's there every day to fulfill the job for which she was created.
2. She doesn't whine about being on the bottom.
3. No matter what sharp thing is thrown against her, she remains steadfast.
4. Steadfast, even though someone else's garbage is placed on her shoulders
5. Steadfast, no matter how hot the water.
6. Never tries to overthrow that which is placed on her, in order to rise to the top.
7. She allows the abuse because she knows when it is over, she will be cleansed.
8. Yet, even after the cleansing, she's willing to go back to her position at the bottom
9. Because she knows that's where she's needed most.
10. All this, without one word of complaint that she is ONLY …
I can't fail to mention she was a gift. See the connection?
I should be so willing.
It matters.
Nothing quite so mundane as spending one's life at the bottom of a sink.!! But I don't have a dishwasher ( gasp!), so this is who greets me after each meal I actually cook. I say 'who', and give her a gender, because to me she's much more than a kitchen gadget. She's taught me so much. Really, she has:
1. She's there every day to fulfill the job for which she was created.
2. She doesn't whine about being on the bottom.
3. No matter what sharp thing is thrown against her, she remains steadfast.
4. Steadfast, even though someone else's garbage is placed on her shoulders
5. Steadfast, no matter how hot the water.
6. Never tries to overthrow that which is placed on her, in order to rise to the top.
7. She allows the abuse because she knows when it is over, she will be cleansed.
8. Yet, even after the cleansing, she's willing to go back to her position at the bottom
9. Because she knows that's where she's needed most.
10. All this, without one word of complaint that she is ONLY …
I can't fail to mention she was a gift. See the connection?
I should be so willing.
It matters.
Friday, November 21, 2014
Friday's Fun (FOOD!!)
Chocolate Caramel Cake
This is a quick, easy recipe and tastes very gourmet. And the best thing--you can 'tweak' it however you want. White cake instead of chocolate. Hot Fudge toppings instead of caramel. More (lots more) Heath bits. You can garnish the whipped topping with nuts, or mini-chocolate chips, or whatever your little heart desires.
Recipe:
1 chocolate cake mix
1 jar caramel ice cream topping
1 cup (or more if desired) Heath chocolate covered toffee bits
1 tub whipped topping
1 chocolate cake mix
1 jar caramel ice cream topping
1 cup (or more if desired) Heath chocolate covered toffee bits
1 tub whipped topping
Bake cake as directed. When cool, punch full of holes using a drinking straw.
Pour the entire jar of caramel topping over the cake–making sure each hole is filled!
Top with whipped topping, and then the toffee bits.
Pour the entire jar of caramel topping over the cake–making sure each hole is filled!
Top with whipped topping, and then the toffee bits.
Now, this will only be a Fun Friday if YOU share a favorite quick and easy recipe!! And I will thank you from the bottom of my cake plate!!
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Tales From the Tailboard
It's Not All Work!
Because they live together 24 hours at a time, firefighters become very much family. And in each family there is a certain amount of tomfoolery that occurs. Imagine a household of four or five boys, and then multiply the mischief by lots of ten because these are no longer boys, but grown men.
Like family, most of the rowdiness occurred when the Chiefs weren't there. So Bob questioned the fact his Chief hung around one evening, and even sat down at the table with them for their evening meal, which happened to be pancakes.
Bob's first bite of pancake was uneventful. But when he tried to cut a second bite his question was answered. The chef for the evening had put a milk strainer in Bob's pancake. Of course, his attempt to cut the second bite was thwarted...but it took a bit of 'sawing' for him to realize what they'd done.
I don't know how many of you know what a milk strainer is. It's not unlike a coffee filter, though more fiber dense. That's how Bob felt--a bit dense. But it was good for a laugh--and still is.
For the past several years, the Newton Fire Department has hosted a special luncheon for the retired firefighters and ambulance personnel. It's a great time of reflection, of remembering members who have gone before them, exclaiming over how things have changed.
Most of all, it's a grand time of recounting stories like this over and over again, and laughing as though they were hearing them for the first time.
It's the brotherhood.
And it's what got them through the times they don't want to to remember.
Because they live together 24 hours at a time, firefighters become very much family. And in each family there is a certain amount of tomfoolery that occurs. Imagine a household of four or five boys, and then multiply the mischief by lots of ten because these are no longer boys, but grown men.
Like family, most of the rowdiness occurred when the Chiefs weren't there. So Bob questioned the fact his Chief hung around one evening, and even sat down at the table with them for their evening meal, which happened to be pancakes.
Bob's first bite of pancake was uneventful. But when he tried to cut a second bite his question was answered. The chef for the evening had put a milk strainer in Bob's pancake. Of course, his attempt to cut the second bite was thwarted...but it took a bit of 'sawing' for him to realize what they'd done.
I don't know how many of you know what a milk strainer is. It's not unlike a coffee filter, though more fiber dense. That's how Bob felt--a bit dense. But it was good for a laugh--and still is.
For the past several years, the Newton Fire Department has hosted a special luncheon for the retired firefighters and ambulance personnel. It's a great time of reflection, of remembering members who have gone before them, exclaiming over how things have changed.
Most of all, it's a grand time of recounting stories like this over and over again, and laughing as though they were hearing them for the first time.
It's the brotherhood.
And it's what got them through the times they don't want to to remember.
Retiree luncheon, 2014. Bob is standing, 7th from the left
Retirees and their sons who are still active Newton firefighter/paramedics
Bob and Rob on the left
Bob and Rob on the left
Monday, November 17, 2014
Mundane Monday
Apple pie on Monday?
Hubby: I'll peel the apples if you want to bake a pie.
Me: I really don't want to bake pie first thing Monday morning. I need to write. I need to dust. I need to do laundry. I need—
I need to bake an apple pie on Monday morning because
It Matters!!
Hubby: I'll peel the apples if you want to bake a pie.
Me: I really don't want to bake pie first thing Monday morning. I need to write. I need to dust. I need to do laundry. I need—
I need to bake an apple pie on Monday morning because
It Matters!!
Friday, November 14, 2014
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Tales From the Tailboard
Do I dare tell them?
We tried very hard not to influence the career choices of our boys. We did have one requirement after high school: either a year of Bible school, or some type of ministry. After that we would support them in any direction they wanted to take.
Kip (son #1) served a year with Life Action Ministries and Rob (son #2) spent a summer in Papua New Guinea with New Tribes Mission. For both of them it was a time of growth spiritually, physically and emotionally.
Then Kip applied to the Sedgwick County Fire Department, and later Rob applied to the Winfield Fire Department and both were hired. These were not simultaneous hirings, and both were independent decisions. In retrospect, neither boy had ever known their daddy to be anything but a firefighter. And though he was careful never to push them one direction or another, Bob was very pleased that they saw his career choice as being something they wanted for their future.
But then those boys of ours got engaged, and it WAS nearly simultaneously. In fact, the younger beat the elder. And while they had no doubts--I did.
Never a doubt about their choices for life-mates. We loved both girls and knew God had chosen them well before the boys even knew they existed. But my question was how much to say to them about what to expect as a result of them marrying a firefighter.
Were they ready for the nights alone? Would their families understand holidays that would be celebrated either without them or on a completely different day? How would they handle every child in the family vomiting at the same time, while daddy was on duty? What about school function, church functions, etc., that would go on whether or not dad could be present? And would they be satisfied to live on the very, very steady, but never lucrative income?
I was the mother-in-law-to-be. Would I be disloyal to our sons by painting a negative picture, or would they consider me interfering?
In the end, I weighed it out, wrote it out, prayed it out. For you see, in reality all those arguments were a very tiny portrait of what it really meant to be a firefighters wife.
The big picture reveals shades of brotherhood that extends well beyond the men. What color is compassion? How could I ever portray the confidence that comes with knowing they will respond to a family's need en masse? What hue do you give--giving? Or how can I sketch what happens when your child is gasping for air one minute, and at peace the next because the firefighter/ambulance men arrive? Is there a color given for dignity? What medium defines your husband's love of his job? And to be brutally honest—some of the stories shared among the three firefighters in this family are a bit 'off-color'.
Son #1 is now a Division Chief with the Sedgwick County Fire Department. Son #2 is a Captain and paramedic with the Newton Fire Department, his dad's alma mater. And I have no idea how our daughter's-in-law would portray their lives as firefighter wives.
But for me,
On the 15th of this month, we will celebrate our 56th wedding anniversary, and I'd marry the man again in a heartbeat.
IT'S BEEN GOOD!!
We tried very hard not to influence the career choices of our boys. We did have one requirement after high school: either a year of Bible school, or some type of ministry. After that we would support them in any direction they wanted to take.
Kip (son #1) served a year with Life Action Ministries and Rob (son #2) spent a summer in Papua New Guinea with New Tribes Mission. For both of them it was a time of growth spiritually, physically and emotionally.
Then Kip applied to the Sedgwick County Fire Department, and later Rob applied to the Winfield Fire Department and both were hired. These were not simultaneous hirings, and both were independent decisions. In retrospect, neither boy had ever known their daddy to be anything but a firefighter. And though he was careful never to push them one direction or another, Bob was very pleased that they saw his career choice as being something they wanted for their future.
But then those boys of ours got engaged, and it WAS nearly simultaneously. In fact, the younger beat the elder. And while they had no doubts--I did.
Never a doubt about their choices for life-mates. We loved both girls and knew God had chosen them well before the boys even knew they existed. But my question was how much to say to them about what to expect as a result of them marrying a firefighter.
Were they ready for the nights alone? Would their families understand holidays that would be celebrated either without them or on a completely different day? How would they handle every child in the family vomiting at the same time, while daddy was on duty? What about school function, church functions, etc., that would go on whether or not dad could be present? And would they be satisfied to live on the very, very steady, but never lucrative income?
I was the mother-in-law-to-be. Would I be disloyal to our sons by painting a negative picture, or would they consider me interfering?
In the end, I weighed it out, wrote it out, prayed it out. For you see, in reality all those arguments were a very tiny portrait of what it really meant to be a firefighters wife.
The big picture reveals shades of brotherhood that extends well beyond the men. What color is compassion? How could I ever portray the confidence that comes with knowing they will respond to a family's need en masse? What hue do you give--giving? Or how can I sketch what happens when your child is gasping for air one minute, and at peace the next because the firefighter/ambulance men arrive? Is there a color given for dignity? What medium defines your husband's love of his job? And to be brutally honest—some of the stories shared among the three firefighters in this family are a bit 'off-color'.
Son #1 is now a Division Chief with the Sedgwick County Fire Department. Son #2 is a Captain and paramedic with the Newton Fire Department, his dad's alma mater. And I have no idea how our daughter's-in-law would portray their lives as firefighter wives.
But for me,
On the 15th of this month, we will celebrate our 56th wedding anniversary, and I'd marry the man again in a heartbeat.
IT'S BEEN GOOD!!
Monday, November 10, 2014
Mundane Matters
I Sure Do Wish…
One by one they grow—these grands of ours. Healthy, happy, busy kiddos whose ever-widening circle of life moves us farther away from being their center. And while we've always loved and looked forward to every minute we could have with them, we now treasure each visit knowing all too well that the time will come when those minutes will turn into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, months, and perhaps even years before the 'next time'.
After an appointment last Friday, I went to visit Rob and his family, (you can meet them on the Family page). I especially wanted to hug the grands. After school turned into supper time. One grand was busy at school with musical practice, one was getting ready to go to an all-night lock-in with her youth group, and the youngest grand was going to stay home!!
It was dark when we stepped onto their back deck to say our goodbyes. Rob was cautioning me to watch for deer, I was thanking Tami for supper, and the young one—destined to be all alone—hugged me around the waist and whispered, "I sure do wish I could come home with you."
Now, if you know any sweeter words than that, I challenge you to post them!! After discussing the pros (there were no cons), I went back in while he quickly packed the essentials—you know, stuff like legos and pocket knife, etc..
As he clamped his seat belt he said, "I'm so excited my tummy feels all jumpy. I always get this way when I know I'm coming to your house."
We NEVER consider time with out family as mundane. Never. But believe me, that hug and whispered plea
MATTERED!!
One by one they grow—these grands of ours. Healthy, happy, busy kiddos whose ever-widening circle of life moves us farther away from being their center. And while we've always loved and looked forward to every minute we could have with them, we now treasure each visit knowing all too well that the time will come when those minutes will turn into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, months, and perhaps even years before the 'next time'.
After an appointment last Friday, I went to visit Rob and his family, (you can meet them on the Family page). I especially wanted to hug the grands. After school turned into supper time. One grand was busy at school with musical practice, one was getting ready to go to an all-night lock-in with her youth group, and the youngest grand was going to stay home!!
It was dark when we stepped onto their back deck to say our goodbyes. Rob was cautioning me to watch for deer, I was thanking Tami for supper, and the young one—destined to be all alone—hugged me around the waist and whispered, "I sure do wish I could come home with you."
Now, if you know any sweeter words than that, I challenge you to post them!! After discussing the pros (there were no cons), I went back in while he quickly packed the essentials—you know, stuff like legos and pocket knife, etc..
As he clamped his seat belt he said, "I'm so excited my tummy feels all jumpy. I always get this way when I know I'm coming to your house."
We NEVER consider time with out family as mundane. Never. But believe me, that hug and whispered plea
MATTERED!!
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Tales From the Tailboard
The Call You Never Want to Receive
Spring break, and all the grandkids were here at the lake. Even though it was still quite cool, they assured me it wasn't too cold to fish or be in the fishing boat or paddle boat. Weather is very subjective when you're a kid. Remember?
When the phone rang and the caller ID showed 'Becky' as the caller, I thought she was just checking on the kids. Instead she said "are you where you can talk?" I went into the bedroom and shut the door to take her message--still thinking it was probably going to be a surprise for the grands.
Instead: "I just got a call and Kip has been hurt at a fire. They don't know for sure, but he may have a broken neck. I've called Rob and he is going to meet me at the hospital in Wichita. But, please don't say anything to the kids until we know more."
Need I say that day surely had more than 24 hours?
The scenario: He'd been training a crew. they had the basement full of smoke, and there was a 'victim' in the basement. Their part was to enter the house and find the 'victim'. When they didn't come when he thought they should, he stepped onto the landing that was between the door and steep flight of steps into the basement with the intent of finding out why they were hesitating. He was in full gear, which included a SCBA pak, which weighed around 30 lbs. or so.
Just when he stepped onto the landing, the crew came through the door and he was knocked down the entire flight of steps. Because they were so steep, he actually didn't hit a step and only stopped when his head hit the cement floor at the bottom of the steps. He hit with such force that the brass eagle on the front of his helmet was flattened. Teeth were broken. There was instant pain, and he couldn't move.
After hours of x-rays, MRI, CAT scans, etc., they did send him home that same day, but the ER doctor told him he had taken the kind of fall that a lot of people didn't survive. He was off duty for six weeks. To this day he has pain that will probably always be present. But he's alive!!
I have to think of the many, many wives, mothers, sisters, sweethearts, etc., who receive such a call and the outcome is entirely different. Their loved one doesn't come home that day, and will never come home again. Today is 'voting' day, and I'm reminded of the men and woman who daily put their lives on the line so that we can enjoy the freedom that we have in this wonderful United State of America.
Yet, knowing all that doesn't take away the heart-stopping feeling that comes when a mama gets the call she hoped she'd never receive.
Spring break, and all the grandkids were here at the lake. Even though it was still quite cool, they assured me it wasn't too cold to fish or be in the fishing boat or paddle boat. Weather is very subjective when you're a kid. Remember?
When the phone rang and the caller ID showed 'Becky' as the caller, I thought she was just checking on the kids. Instead she said "are you where you can talk?" I went into the bedroom and shut the door to take her message--still thinking it was probably going to be a surprise for the grands.
Instead: "I just got a call and Kip has been hurt at a fire. They don't know for sure, but he may have a broken neck. I've called Rob and he is going to meet me at the hospital in Wichita. But, please don't say anything to the kids until we know more."
Need I say that day surely had more than 24 hours?
The scenario: He'd been training a crew. they had the basement full of smoke, and there was a 'victim' in the basement. Their part was to enter the house and find the 'victim'. When they didn't come when he thought they should, he stepped onto the landing that was between the door and steep flight of steps into the basement with the intent of finding out why they were hesitating. He was in full gear, which included a SCBA pak, which weighed around 30 lbs. or so.
Just when he stepped onto the landing, the crew came through the door and he was knocked down the entire flight of steps. Because they were so steep, he actually didn't hit a step and only stopped when his head hit the cement floor at the bottom of the steps. He hit with such force that the brass eagle on the front of his helmet was flattened. Teeth were broken. There was instant pain, and he couldn't move.
After hours of x-rays, MRI, CAT scans, etc., they did send him home that same day, but the ER doctor told him he had taken the kind of fall that a lot of people didn't survive. He was off duty for six weeks. To this day he has pain that will probably always be present. But he's alive!!
I have to think of the many, many wives, mothers, sisters, sweethearts, etc., who receive such a call and the outcome is entirely different. Their loved one doesn't come home that day, and will never come home again. Today is 'voting' day, and I'm reminded of the men and woman who daily put their lives on the line so that we can enjoy the freedom that we have in this wonderful United State of America.
Yet, knowing all that doesn't take away the heart-stopping feeling that comes when a mama gets the call she hoped she'd never receive.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Mundane Matters
The Art of Listening
Not long ago, I was in a group of people I didn't particularly care to be with. There! I said it. But there is a moral to this story.
In the past, some of the people in this particular group have made unkind statements about situations they really knew nothing about...mainly where and why we chose to send our children to a particular school, went to church, and the 'crippled' condition of our girls. I always went into this crowd defensively, my mind full of 'vain imaginary responses' should they say—
At this particular outing, I went with a new attitude. I would not allow myself to 'go there'...I wasn't going to prepare a come-back or defend anything. I was going, albeit reluctantly, determined to stay quiet and allow others to have an opinion totally different than my own.
I spent most of the day 'listening' to one lady. And I learned so very, very much. Not from what she said, but by actually hearing what she said…and didn't say. I watched her. I observed her graciously give up the chair she normally sits in to support her back and legs, so that another person in the group could be comfortable. I 'listened' as she showed me pictures of her daughter's wedding, and saw the shine in her eyes with each description. And I witnessed her countenance fall when she asked her husband a question and he was short and dismissive with her.
On the way home, Bob said "She just needs someone to talk to, doesn't she?"
No, she's always talked and talked and talked. What she needed is no different than what we all desire—someone to hear beyond what is uttered. I learned words are only part of a conversation.
I'll not dread the next outing. Next time I will show her pictures of my kids and grandkids, and we'll smile and exchange 'momisms' and hug when we say goodbye.
This time, I 'saw' every word—and that matters.
Not long ago, I was in a group of people I didn't particularly care to be with. There! I said it. But there is a moral to this story.
In the past, some of the people in this particular group have made unkind statements about situations they really knew nothing about...mainly where and why we chose to send our children to a particular school, went to church, and the 'crippled' condition of our girls. I always went into this crowd defensively, my mind full of 'vain imaginary responses' should they say—
At this particular outing, I went with a new attitude. I would not allow myself to 'go there'...I wasn't going to prepare a come-back or defend anything. I was going, albeit reluctantly, determined to stay quiet and allow others to have an opinion totally different than my own.
I spent most of the day 'listening' to one lady. And I learned so very, very much. Not from what she said, but by actually hearing what she said…and didn't say. I watched her. I observed her graciously give up the chair she normally sits in to support her back and legs, so that another person in the group could be comfortable. I 'listened' as she showed me pictures of her daughter's wedding, and saw the shine in her eyes with each description. And I witnessed her countenance fall when she asked her husband a question and he was short and dismissive with her.
On the way home, Bob said "She just needs someone to talk to, doesn't she?"
No, she's always talked and talked and talked. What she needed is no different than what we all desire—someone to hear beyond what is uttered. I learned words are only part of a conversation.
I'll not dread the next outing. Next time I will show her pictures of my kids and grandkids, and we'll smile and exchange 'momisms' and hug when we say goodbye.
This time, I 'saw' every word—and that matters.
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