Mountain Oma

Two nights of this—

Was totally worth three days of this:

Arizona Cousins greeting Colorado Cousins,

Little cousins meeting big cousins.

Boy buddies,

Girl buddies,

Best buddies.

Weaving,

Braiding,

Knitting thirty-one hearts together.

A couple of nights on the ground was totally worth it!

Oma Days

Oma Day

There are Pioneer Days, Strawberry Days and Onion Days up and down our state, but my favorite summer days are Oma Days. The kids are out of school, travelin-grands come from far away, and I get to hang out with my favorite people. For six weeks this summer grandkids are at the top of my to-do list. They pair off and treat me to the pleasure of their company for an Oma Day.

Chelsea and Ashley (both 7)

I took these guys to Walmart where we bought fishing poles,

and headed out to my neighborhood lake.

Chelsea at Oquirrh Lake

It's 65 acres, almost four miles around, with playgrounds and picnic spots scattered here and there. Sailboats, canoes and row boats are available to residents and there are 13 miles of walking trails. We just needed a few yards.

Ashley prepared for giant fish.

Since it's stocked with trout, bluegill and bass, I was certain we'd each catch our two fish limit. The girls were so worried they'd be pulled into the water by giant fish, they insisted on wearing life jackets. Unfortunately, I forgot about hooks and worms. The fishing lines floated aimlessly on top of the water until we got bored.

Ashley and Chelsea on Soda Row

Then we dashed across the street for a run through the splash pad ...

and gelato cones.

Scott, Pete, Brad and Dan

The guys went golfing one morning,

and biking the next.

The ladies had an outing at City Creek.

Gabi, Sam, Brad

Jordanelle was the scene for a boating adventure.

I watched in awe as the littlest kids rode the waves,

Chloe, Emmie, Jessi

... and the experts surfed the wake.

Eliza and Jill

The twinkies requested their favorite cupcake store.

Then we went to the Oma Clubhouse for dress-ups and a tea party.

Gabi watching fireworks

After a grand display of fireworks and a month of fiery weather, we woke up to rain and cool temperatures. Perfect for a weekend in the woods! The car is loaded, and the Oma tent pack-ups are ready to go; s'mores are waiting! I'll report next week!

Granddaughters: A Sweet Treat

Chloë at San Gelato

I picked the girls up after school, and Chloë got to ride shotgun. At ten, she is still technically a back seat rider, but my back seat could only accommodate her two younger sisters. Who knew it would be a grand perk of Oma day?

She twisted the side mirrors, adjusted the vents, rearranged the sun shades, locked and unlocked the doors. "You seem to be enjoying all the accessories." I said. She checked her hair in the make-up mirror on the back of the visor. "Well, yeh. The front seat is way more luxurious than the back seat." she said.

We're babysitting this week, getting reacquainted with the up close and personal. It's so fun to listen in on girl-talk, get in on bobby-pin demonstrations and overhear piano practice. These girls are 10, 9 and 7, old enough to pack their own lunches and put in their own wash. Bedtime is not an issue and they come home anxious to do their homework. Observing such awesome qualities has restored my belief in heredity.

After dinner they played on the swings in our neighborhood park while the wind whipped their hair into tangled updos--mine was standing straight up. It was time to head over to a family night concert, and I suggested we go home to wash up. "It probably won't do much good to comb our hair with all this wind," I said. "Oma," chided Chloë, "I think we should at least make an effort."

Like I said: granddaughters are a sweet treat!

Chloë May, Ashley Paige and Jessica Dee

"Remember how you always blog about us when we're funny?"
I do!
Click here for some memories of kidspeak:
Ashley
Jess
Chloë

"Grandkids are the reward for not killing your kids."
--Bill Cosby

Family Easter Egg Hunt

"Dear! I think you're the Easter Bunny!"

Grama Lundgren used to have an Easter Egg Hunt in her gigantic front yard for 24 grandkids. She spent hours boiling, dying and hiding a dozen dozens of eggs; we spent ten minutes running wildly through the apple trees in our Easter bonnets and bow ties; then we all spent days eating egg salad sandwiches. The work-to-fun ratio was out of balance, so I tweaked the tradition. An Oma Party always includes the preparation: instead of doing the work myself, I let the guests do it—that becomes the party! Let me explain.

Back when I was a full-time mom, I'd often announce a Halverson Hero Happening. Our family gathered in the kitchen (we were a party of nine) for a planning session, assignments were made, and the festivities began. Scotch tape, balloons and crepe paper appeared; pudding was instant (with lots of squirt whipped cream) and games were assembled. Fifteen minutes later colorful streamers and excited screamers filled the family room—the party had planned itself.

With that background I'm sharing some tried and true suggestions:

Ten Easy Steps for an Easter Egg Hunt

1. Put an invitation on your kids' pillow or plate (or send an e-vite to the kids in your life.)
2. At the start of the party, give each kid a roll of colored crepe paper and a roll of tape, then set the timer. (You'll be kept busy finding the end of somebody's scotch tape.) They can twist and drape—it doesn't matter how it looks in the end. Decorating is the fun part. The timer is necessary because they won't want to stop.
   
3. Gather everybody on the floor and give each guest ten plastic eggs. Dump packages of jelly beans, bubble gum, etc. in a big bowl and let everybody fill their eggs. (For a big group, have every family bring something to contribute.)
4. While the guests fill eggs, you fill two eggs per person with something unique: McDonald's coupons, dollar bills, quarters (depending on how old they are and how rich you are) or slips of paper that say Sing a Song, Tell a Joke, etc. for an impromptu program. It helps if these eggs look different somehow (color, size, whatever) than the others.
5. Give each kid a paper sack and crayons and let them decorate it as an Easter basket.
6. While an adult hides the eggs, the kids go somewhere else with another adult and learn to do the bunny hop, or play "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?"
   
7. Youngest to oldest, a pair of kids are released and told to find ten eggs, plus two of the unique eggs.
8. Everybody stuffs candy in their mouths.
9. Everybody dumps their eggs out into their sacks, and the plastic eggs are collected and taken to the garage until next year.
10. Talent show: sing songs, tell jokes, do somersaults, dance the bunny hop—show your true colors, come out of your shell.
    

Make everybunny happy!

How does your family celebrate Easter?
I'm all ears!

Christmas Scenes

The Griswold's House

How do you picture the perfect Christmas?

I loved this talk by Dieter F. Uchtdorf:

"Sometimes it seems that our efforts to have a perfect Christmas season are like a game of Jenga ... each of those little wooden blocks is a symbol of the perfect Christmas we so desperately want to have. We have in our minds a picture of how everything should be; the perfect tree, the perfect lights, the perfect gifts and the perfect family party. We might even want to re-create some magical moment we remember from Christmases past, and nothing short of perfection will do.

"Sooner or later, something unpleasant occurs; the wooden blocks tumble, the drapes catch fire, the turkey burns, the sweater is the wrong size, the toys are missing batteries, the children quarrel, the pressure rises; and the picture-perfect Christmas we had imagined, the magic we had intended to create, shatters around us. As a result, the Christmas season is often a time of stress, anxiety, frustration and perhaps even disappointment."

"When we set aside our expectations of perfection, we will see Christmas in details around us. It is usually something small; we read a verse of scripture, we hear a sacred carol and really listen, perhaps for the first time, to its words, or we witness a sincere expression of love. In one way or another, the Spirit touches our hearts, and we see that Christmas, in its essence, is much more sturdy and enduring than the many minor things we often use to adorn it."

You must hear the rest of his talk!
To watch this Christmas devotional, click here.

Here are a few details from scenes that have lit up the Christmas season for me:

Long-lost cousins.


My own personal St. Lucia.

Displaying old decorations in a new place.

Elves.


Plays, recitals and Christmas concerts.

Meeting the stars after the show.

What are the Christmas scenes you'll remember from this year?

(Here's some ideas of where to look:)

1. The dreaded family Christmas party will be better than you think.
2. Drop in on a grade-school program and you'll leave jolly, I promise!
3. Send a note to a friend from your past and remind him (and yourself) what was special about your friendship.
4. Listen to some old Christmas CD's (Oakridge Boys, John Denver, Peter,Paul and Mary do it for me.)
5. Bake that cake your mom used to make and tell your kids how you got your tongue caught in the beater.
6. After you hear the whole Dieter F. Uchtdork talk, consider how you'd react with love if your darling four-year-old set your house on fire Christmas Eve.
7. Look up Luke chapter 2 in the Holy Bible. Read it out loud to someone, or have them read it to you. Listen for the words, but notice the majesty of the language and feel the Holy Ghost testify that the story is true.
8. Write a letter to a teacher/friend/frenemy? who you could thank for something.

Leave us an idea to make someone's Christmas' better
(which is guaranteed to make ours better.!)

Long-Distance Grandparents

Homemade donuts

There are perks to having out-of-town kids.
For one thing, when you visit, you get in on breakfast.


Saturday morning treat.

The women in our family are fabulous cooks,
so we go from house to house and sample their specialties.

"Has anybody noticed you guys are twins?"

Micah's birthday was a perfect reason to drive to Denver. It's so fun to see our kids in their natural habitat! Although we love to have them at our house, at their house they're most comfortable being the people they've become.

I was chatting with Candice this morning while she made a meatloaf (wrapped in bacon!) The kids were upstairs getting ready for church and from the kitchen I could see each one go into their parent's bedroom and come out with Sunday outfits draped on a hanger. "Micah is the ironer," Candice said. "Every Sunday he presses everybody's clothes." This was their family in action, and we saw the details.

There are tons of advantages to having kids in town. I can watch the progression of a loose tooth, go to kindergarten programs and see Halloween costumes in person. We can bring each other soup, pop in to see the Christmas tree and know there's emergency help just a few minutes away.

But there are advantages to having faraway kids, too. Visits are condensed and intense--for a few days we see it all. Not only did we see Lauren's play, we saw her chattering nervously for hours before, and acting like a diva for hours after. Three kids have a piano recital tomorrow night and not only will we see the performance, we've enjoyed practice sessions all weekend. The boys shoveled a neighbor's driveway as a good deed, and were thrilled when she gave them $20. Their dad reminded them that a good deed is its own reward, and they willingly took the money back. These are details we don't see with our in-town kids, although I know they happen in their homes, too. Observing life close-up is compensation for missing out on the day-to-day.

The Colorado Cousins Club

Long before our kids grew up we imagined them living far and wide. Dee said we'd sell everything, buy an RV and travel around the country visiting one kid or another. In our old age we realized we prefer indoor to outdoor plumbing, and nobody wants us to live for months at a time in their driveway. So the RV idea was scuttled (grandkids and grandparents are preferable in small doses anyway.) But we're friendly with some faraway places because they've lived there: Minneapolis, Seattle, Yardley PA, Cleveland, Toledo, Denver, San Diego, Boston, St. Louis, Idaho Falls, Fountain Valley CA, and Phoenix.

It's great to be a traveling Oma!

How do you stay close to faraway loved ones?
(Here's an idea.)

Any long-distance Christmas ideas?
(Here's an easy one.)

I've already done all mine. Tell me some of yours!

Pie Night

Coconut Cream Pies

Yep. I made 'em—homemade pies by OMA.
I'm a little proud as you can see.
I've never thought of myself as a pie maker.

Grandma Bagley

Grandma Bagley was the pie maker. Dad stopped to check on her every night on the way home from work. There was always a banana cream, a lemon meringue, peach, apple, chocolate or custard pie. Dad was a dutiful son, but grandma employed a secret method to encourage devotion. When I worked for my dad during my teens I got in on the visit and my favorite was coconut cream.

My kids have a tradition called Pie Night. It happens the Sunday before Thanksgiving, a get together to celebrate the sweetness of family. With 7 kids, 7 in-law kids who all come from big families on every side, it's never been a goal to get us all together for Thanksgiving. Little groups meet up and have Thanksgiving—the eastern families met at an Amish cabin for a few years, a group made a trek to St. Louis last year. One of our families gets a condo in Sun Valley with the in-laws every other year. We Opis family hop—we've been to Boston, Pennsylvania, Denver, San Diego, and this year we're in Arizona for the big day.

I have a family of event planners. Any occasion deserves a name and a theme, a game or two and some spectacular food. A great joy of this phase of life is visiting our kid's homes as guests. We are treated royally. Today one grandkid is assigned to each of the four grandparents coming to dinner, as their slave. They will serve us our food, clear our plates, replenish our glasses and be our dinner companion. It's so fun to watch Luke make place cards, and Sam light candles. Emily helped me tear up bread for the stuffing while Jake went off to play (officially) in his first turkey bowl. I LOVE seeing Gabi and Brad on their own turf, totally in control of the whole day. It is a treat beyond anything . . . even beyond pie.

Which brings me to my perfect pie recipe:

Old Fashioned Coconut Cream Pie

One can coconut milk, and enough half and half to make 3 cups liquid.

3 egg yolks

1 cup white sugar

1/2 cup cornstarch

1/4 t salt

1 cup flaked, sweetened coconut

1 baked pie shell

1 cup sweetened, whipped cream

In a medium saucepan combine eggs, sugar, flour and salt. Slowly stir in coconut milk/cream mixture. Bring to a a boil over low heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and stir in 3/4 cup coconut, 1 teaspoon vanilla, and 1 T butter. Pour into pie shell and chill 2-4 hours.

Toast 1/4 coconut on ungreased pan in a 350 degree over 5-7 minutes until golden brown, stirring often. Cool. Sprinkle toasted coconut on top of pie. Serve with a dollop of whipped cream.

Stand back and wait for compliments!!!

Gotta go and taste-test some rolls!

Happy Thanksgiving!

P. S. I'm thankful for you!

P. S. P. S. Kirby Puckernut wants you to visit his blog! Click here!

Taking the Grand Tour

"Write what should not be forgotten."

—Isabel Allende

One of my Oma goals was to take my grandchildren to Europe. Who better? I've been "over the pond" twenty-five times, and lived there twice. I wrote this goal in my journal twenty years ago, planning the trip for when they each turned ten. Of course this was before I had twenty grandkids and when I assumed I'd be rich in my old age.

Several grandkids have turned ten (and eleven, and twelve . . .) without me, but finally I have a local grand old enough for her Grand Tour. We just took it the other way around.

Chloë in the lobby of Grand America Hotel, Salt Lake City

We pretended Chloë was from Paris, meeting her long-lost Grandmama at a fancy schmancy hotel—the Grand America in Salt Lake City. A valet parked our car, and we walked past a long, white limo, so it was easy to imagine we were traveling first-class.

Catching her breath.

Chloë took almost a hundred photos as we explored the hotel. She loved the tapestries, the fountains, and the statues of deer in the gardens. One room caught her eye—the Grand Ballroom. Even with chairs strewn all over and tables only partially put away, it made her shriek with delight. I reminded her she was from Paris and had probably been to Versailles, but this was still the swankiest room she'd ever seen, and she pirouetted around like Cinderella.

There were little cubicles off a long hall, each with a built-in desk. "There's an old-fashioned telephone in there! Is this where people sit to take their calls?" she asked. (The old-fashioned telephone was just a regular phone that had a cord.) "That is so cool."

The bathroom blew her away. Real cloth towels, gilded mirrors and two posh sitting areas, plus "each toilet has its own miniature room!" A bit classier than the 4th grade lavatory.

Chloë is overcome at the Grand America.

Seeing a place through ten-year-old eyes, with a ten-year-old imagination was absolutely grand! I was reminded that to kids, everything is new. Even just a trip downtown can be an adventure—it's all in the presentation.

"Look up, Oma!"

Chloë pointed out every chandelier and every ceiling decoration; she appreciated all the little touches. "The salt and pepper shakers match our dishes!" (At home her salt and pepper shakers match her dishes, too, but I think she expects little paper packets at restaurants.) The waiter "brought bread automatically," crusty sourdough, with a "personal dish of butter," and she got to figure out which of her three knives was especially for spreading. Afterward we stopped in the little French bakery and drooled over gelato and chocolate truffles before we each chose a macaroon to eat at a tiny wrought-iron cafe table in the corner.

"We're making a memory," I told her over lunch. "Do you think you'll remember your first Grand Tour?" "Maybe," she said, her mind on the waiter bringing her lemonade.

Lunch at Grand America

Not to worry, Chloë. I don't remember all the things I did with my grandmas, either. But somehow I knew they loved me and recognized my individuality. Although I was one of 13 on one side, and one of 24 on the other, I felt appreciated for myself, even as I took pride in being part of a large group.

Those are the memories I cherish, and the ones I hope to recreate—a deep, down, inner conviction for each grandchild that we know they are unique and love them because of it. I'll share my vast wisdom if they are interested, and if I have something to teach (that they want to learn) I'll pass it on, but most of what I want to give my grandkids is confidence and faith that they're here at this time with inborn traits, abilities and spiritual gifts that are needed. I want them to have the courage to follow their promptings to go where they can make their contribution to the world.

My true goal for them is to take their own tour of life, find personal adventures and a repertoire of experience that will prepare them for each successive tour of duty: school, mission, college, army, marriage and stops along the way I don't know about yet. That's the Grand Tour I'm most interested in. But I'm glad to be part of the training tours along the way!

Hearts Turned

PJ May 2011

Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, the present and the future.

Opa May 2011

My favorite scripture is a prophesy in the last verse of the Old Testament:
"And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children,
and the heart of the children to their fathers . . ."
It's happened to me.

Our kids 1984

They won my heart when they were little,
and their kids have turned my heart all over again.
Listen in on some kidspeak from tonight:

Scott, Eliza, Jill

"Tickle us some more, Uncle Sco."
"I can't, girls. I'm old."

"But we're young!"

Marty 1965

I love having the memory of being young,


Marty, May 2011

and the perspective of being old.
It fills me with gratitude.

Today my heart is turned to the fathers who kept my world turning:

Wells, 1943

Dee's dad in England,

Jiggs, 1943

And my dad in Australia.

I wonder if all the soldiers realized the lives they were blessing.

"Think of the power of thousands of prayers of parents and grandparents,
back and back and even beyond, all requesting essentially the same thing:
'Bless my children; bless my children; bless my children.'
Can you hear it as it rolls and echos throughout all eternity?"
—John H. Groberg

My heart is turning in both directions:
Bless my children; bless my fathers.
And bless me to be worthy of them all.

♥♥♥

Who are you remembering this Memorial Day?