'Fireman' Dave and the dryer-fire

One phone call I never expected to get was the one I got from my normally cool, collected, do-it-myself husband. The call that went like this "Cher! There is a fire in our house. Call the fire department." Verbatim. No extra (or possibly helpful and potentially calming) details, just the bare bones.

I had started my Monday morning January 20 the way I normally start Mondays - by stripping the bed and sorting the laundry. I almost never neglect the wash on Mondays, it is one of the ways I keep on top of the things that need keeping on top of. The first load in the machine is the bed linens. I did the other regular everyday things while that load ran through the cycle, changed the linens to the dryer, started another load in the washer, grabbed my list of errands and groceries for the week, and headed out the door to take care of business. The call came when I had been gone for about 45 minutes. Fortunately David was home working and due to his cool-head and penchant to do-it-himself, he extinguished the fire just as the fire trucks rolled up to our door. Two fire trucks and a police cruiser as well. Lots of huge firemen trudging through our house making sure all was as well as it could be.

So. This is another one of those experiences that remind me how little I know and how self-involved I tend to be. If I had heard that a friend or acquaintance had had a dryer-fire, I would likely have thought to myself "well, that stinks!", assumed that a new dryer was in the works, and probably little else. It sounds like such a little event. And in the scheme of events it really is little. But like a paper cut that stings every time you get your hand wet, it really is aggravating. We are coming up to 4 weeks pretty quick here and we are far from back to normal. We spent the first two weeks post-fire enjoying a staycation in a lovely bed and breakfast courtesy of our insurance company while two restoration contractors began the business of remediating the damage from the thick black repellently stinky smoke that filled our home. Every single soft item on our home (and I mean everything that was not nailed to the floor with the exception of the sofas) was removed to be cleaned off-site. The removal alone took a couple of days. All our electronics were removed to be cleaned. Then every hard surface, every book and picture, had to be wiped down. The laundry room has been gutted. The ceilings will be scraped and redone. The carpets have been cleaned. There have been four massive 'air scrubbers' exchanging the air in our house every 15 minutes night and day and still it smells of fire in here. 

A week ago we got the first of our goods back. 223 bundles of hanging and I don't know how many boxes but lots!! I have spent hours every day in the meantime unpacking, cutting the id tags off each unique piece and trying to put things back where they live. It has been tedious in the extreme but I remind myself that I am so fortunate to have my home and my things. If David had not been home the chance is very great that by the time anyone on our quiet street even noticed there was a fire here, it would have been beyond too late. So I plod on, finding the odd treasure and of course the odd things that one keeps simply because it is easier than deciding what to do with them. Those things are set aside (now beautifully clean) to find new homes with someone else. In a few weeks I will have a rebuilt laundry room with new appliances and the stink of an electrical fire will (hopefully) be a memory.

There are a few lessons here. The first is easy to see - DON'T leave home (or go to bed) with any appliance running but especially not a washer, dryer, or dishwasher. The risk is simply not worth the convenience. Next lesson - know where the shut-offs are for said appliances and then make sure that you have a fire extinguisher and know how to use it.

But the most important lesson I have been reminded of again, is that it is not ever so real as when it has happened to you. It doesn't matter if it is small or large, life-changing or just a nuisance, I think I am not alone in my tendency to be too blind to the 'paper cuts' and disasters of those around me. It is far too easy to ask for understanding and tolerance, for support and comfort for what concerns me but deny those same needs to others because I haven't made the effort to get out of my skin and feel their worries, to understand why they feel stressed, to know that they need love and maybe more than just a little help. Our paper-cut-disaster has been really relatively painless - a big nuisance and a whole lot of work to be sure - but we have lost nothing that matters. We have our home and it will be beautiful and orderly again.  Much of what was destroyed can be replaced and what cannot will not leave a hole in my life. We have one another and each precious member of our family. We have the opportunity to get up and work and learn and grow with each new day.

Can't say I won't be happy to get the rest of my stuff back - I am pretty tired of one pair of boots and the shoes I wear for my daily walks (hardly fashionable). First world problems. Small potatoes. At least I have shoes. I do like shoes though....

christmas lights

Today I decided to string some lights on a few trees that would only be seen by us. Not for public admiration, just a little bit of sparkle to delight us and remind us that elves are working away. It was a task I undertook on my own and being as I am not tall and the trees are growing on a steep-ish hill so a ladder would have been tricky, I really hope the only observers were rabbits. When I light our indoor tree I am ridiculously obsessive about the placement of each light, so I was quite pleased with my devil-may-care approach today. Of course, the results speak for themselves and as always you get what you pay for but I am still delighted with the little bit of sparkle in our private space.

As I was tossing strings of lights as far up the trees as I could I couldn't help but remember a Christmas-gift-making day with Merin and Eden. Merin was making a throw for her sister-in-law. In most things she was almost maddeningly perfectionist but in just a very few others she was adorably devil-may-care. She could wail over muffins ever so slightly over-baked but on this day when she ran out of the yarn she was using to make an incredible and luxurious fringe on the ends of the blanket (about 20" too soon), she calmly announced that it was fine. She was finished.  Eden and I laughed - and told her that it was not fine!! It simply wouldn't do. One can't give a gift that far from completion. She laughed with us but insisted it was fine. I can easily see her sitting at the sewing machine with her little baby belly just beginning to show and her face glowing with happiness. Such a good afternoon with my girls. A Merin memory that makes me smile.

postscript: The throw was completed another day. Don't know if the sister-in-law ever knew how close she came to getting a very unique gift.

went to the ballet

Last night I went to the ballet. Madame Butterfly was the ballet, Alberta Ballet was the company. The performance was wonderful and the plot well-expressed through the choreography, Pucinni's compelling music, the sets and gorgeous costumes. I was thoroughly there and thoroughly enjoyed it. But more than the beauty of the ballet I was able to relax into the memories of Merin that so flood any experience that touches dance. To relax into those wonderful memories was a welcome joy.

Merin loved going to the ballet. Even though it almost always entailed rushing home from class to dress and primp - in a flurry and fluster - and finally arrive breathless at the theatre to sit in less-than-desirable seats on the third balcony (or to stand for the entire performance at the Paris Opera House when in Paris) she loved the ballet. She loved anticipating the show and, when the night arrived, dressing up to meet the occasion.  She loved meeting her friends, going with her sister, sometimes with me, or going solo. She loved the atmosphere that attends the event, the music, the dancers, the dancing - she loved the dancing!

Last night's ballet - centered as it was on Japan - was colored with another layer of memories of Merin. Memories of finding a studio and teacher that met her standard and need the year she was in Tokyo with us. Teaching her the long and multi-change train route to that studio once we found it. Sitting in the heat and humidity of the studio while she took class. And then knowing that she could easily go on her own but going with her anyway just for the joy of sharing time together.

Ballet memories are so very heavily loaded for me. Three years have passed and I miss my Merin more intensely than I can say. Time has mellowed the pain of loss in a way and I hope that mellowing will continue but I am realizing that I will always yearn for Merin and grieve her loss, even as I anticipate our eventual reunion. Being in a ballet setting brings precious memories to the very front of my mind and heart in a way that demands I pay attention to them. Until last night the intensity and sheer volume of those memories teetered on the edge of too sharp. It was wonderful to remember and feel the warmth of all that my daughter was as I relaxed into those precious memories last night. Once again, I know that life is good.

image from the Alberta Ballet website

'doing'

The other day I made one of those super-simple but utterly adorable no-sew tutus for Ysa. It was a fun and easy project made more fun by the prospect of the delight I was anticipating she would feel when she opened the gift. She is such a sweet-tiny-ballerina-dancing-girl that I was pretty certain the simple gift would be a hit. I finished the tutu, wrapped it in some very pretty soft pink paper tied with a pink bow and figured that was that. Finished. But there was a flicker of a thought in my head. Just there, not articulated. That thought simmered and waited for me to have the quiet to tease the thread of it, to follow it and see where it went. So quiet that I hardly knew it was waiting.

What I did know was that I felt happy. A particular flavour of happy that is unique to having done something, no matter how small and simple, for someone I love. 'Doing' is my best language for expressing love. So I finished the day in the glow of my little project - happy that Ysa would be happy and that I could contribute. As I was winding down and preparing for bed I understood something that had eluded me and it was this: 

I have always found a great deal of joy in doing things for my children. I love them to the moon and back, more than the whole earth, forever and ever. I tell them so (and have always told them so) in as many ways as I can find - words included - but doing little things to delight them or make their lives easier has been an important part of the way I live each day. Since Merin's death I miss doing those small things for her that I used to find joy in doing, but when I do something for her daughter it feels like doing for her and that feels just right. As I followed that thought I understood in a very visceral way that when I am kind to another, when I sacrifice in even a small way for another's happiness I am certainly doing something for my Heavenly Father. In the same way that I cannot 'do' something directly for Merin, I cannot do something directly for him but when I serve his children, I show my love for him.

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. 
- Matthew 25:40

Certainly not a new doctrine. Not even one that I didn't understand in my mind. But now I feel it in a new and personal way. I understand it in my heart. Another layer of love to wrap my small gifts of love in.

Photo courtesy of Merin's (and our) very dear friend Natasha Van Dierendonck. Thanks so much!

I have just returned from seven perfect days in Vancouver. Perfect because I got to spend the entire long weekend with Jonathon all to myself. Perfect because although the forecast was for rain, rain, and more rain, we had mostly dry days with only a bit of drizzle and even some clear sky and sun from time to time. Perfect because I love Vancouver. And perfect because I shared the rest of the week (after the weekend) with Janet. 

Janet and I have been friends our entire lives - since before our memories begin. Janet is in the pictures of my earliest birthday parties, was my constant companion and best friend, my sleepover buddy, my confidante - the Diana to my Anne Shirley. As we grew into our teens I admired her verve and confidence, the way she drew people to her, the fun she always made, her great style, and wished I looked just like her. When we started high school we attended the same school for the first time. Every day during Grade 10 we walked the short distance to her family home for lunch - delicious hot lunches I still think of from time to time. We agonized over the boys we had crushes on, shared dreams and clothes, got our ears pierced, listened to LP vinyl records, and had sleepovers every time we could get parental agreement. Then Janet's family moved, taking her with them. We were sad and promised it wouldn't change a thing but I think we knew it would and of course, it did. That and the inevitable busyness that accompanies the last two years of high school - studies, dating, planning, growing up, figuring out who you are. When David and I were married Janet was my bridesmaid. She married. We had babies - her Bradley and my Jonathon were born 10 days apart. We had loose contact for years and years but as our children have grown and we have matured we have found our way back to a close friendship I think we both treasure.

There is a special and unique quality to a friendship of such longstanding. Janet knows me in a way no other person on earth does and laughs and loves me anyway. She isn't offended that I fall asleep when she is talking to me - she wasn't when we were girls and she teased me when I did it again after a long and fun day of shopping in Gastown. 

It was a wonderful luxury to reconnect with the leisure of several days - to be reminded of how much we have in common and to enjoy all that we don't in one another. What a happy thing our mothers were friends so we could share a long and rich friendship. Best friends then, dear friends for always.

And I have to say ... Janet can still talk all night long. We had So Much Fun!

isaac

A sniff away from 10 months old and sweet, sweet, sweet. I love that face. And when he smiles.... the most adorable dimples appear. He reminds me so much of his dad when he was a tiny boy - quiet, sweet, busy, and quick as a cat. Gently trusting. I love him to bits. I am the luckiest grandy. So much love.

I am full and content.

Ysa is so much her father's daughter in looks that it was fun to catch this resemblance. Merin is a year older in this photo than Ysa is now but ..... those eyes.

photo credit: Merin - unknown. (this was the lighting check from a modelling job in Japan)
                         Ysa - Aubrie Lang. And yes, this photographer is 6! A talent to watch for.

collecting silver

Long ago a 15 year old me vowed that I would never color my hair. (I was thinking more in terms of covering grey than of simply having fun with color.) I have more or less stuck with that commitment. When the first white hair showed up I succumbed to peer pressure, tried an at-home color - and shocked myself every time I passed a mirror. Was that me?! Deciding that it didn't feel like it was 'me' I embraced my earlier determination to love my natural color, even if that color was grey.

Sometimes when I see a photo of myself taken when I was younger and my hair was still dark, I am surprised by just how dark it was. And I miss that version of me - just for a minute. More salt and pepper than silver yet, I am working on my collection. Like most personal collections, it is a reflection of the bits of my life - some inherited, some chosen, some happened upon - but uniquely mine.

I am comfortable with my silvering hair. I look forward to when it is completely, beautifully so. When I see examples of women - beautiful, confident, amazing, interesting, and silver-haired - I am inspired with a desire to be the same to whatever degree I am able.

The other day I stumbled across this site - portraits of graceful, classy, cool women. Incredible images. Inspiring. Helping me see what silver can be.

rhubarb italian soda syrup

Most of the time an air-conditioned house is ridiculous in Calgary. Generally speaking there are only two or three days in our summer when air conditioning would be really welcome. Today is one of those days. Even our house with its wonderfully placed windows and fantastic cross-draft is hot.


In the summer days of my childhood memories the weather was always hot and sunny. My parents built an in-ground pool in our large backyard when I was four. It was a great pool. Big enough to swim laps and deep enough to dive. Every day was a party in the pool. Cousins came often. I remember my mom and aunts sunning themselves on loungers on the pool deck while we splashed and shrieked - having the most wonderful fun. The roof of our garage was flat and overhung one corner of the pool, making a perfect platform for daring leaps into the water. Other days were more quiet - no friends or cousins - just my parents and siblings but just as much fun, still a party. We never went away in the summer because nowhere was better. And always, in my memory, the days were hot and sunny. The water welcoming and cool. Even in Calgary. 


We have no backyard pool now. But we still need to cool off on days like today. This rhubarb soda syrup is a nice change of pace. Not strongly rhubarb in taste but still a bit tart, the syrup is the most lovely soft pink colour. I added a sniff of vanilla because I love vanilla with rhubarb and used honey instead of sugar. Added to sparkling water it makes a refreshing soda. My personal preference is to mix it with still water - not too strong. Just a refreshing wisp of flavour on a hot day.


The hardest part of making this is finding a bottle pretty enough for the pink to keep it in :) In the end I used a vinegar bottle that I had saved for its very prettiness. Of course, a mason jar would store it just as well - but where's the fun in that?


rhubarb italian soda
(from Chatelaine - adapted)


1/2 cup honey
3/4 cup water
1 1/2 cups coarsely chopped rhubarb
3 Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/8 tsp vanilla (optional)


Combine the water and honey in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Add the chopped rhubarb and allow to come back to a boil. Turn the heat off under the pan but leave the pan on the burner. Cover and let steep for an hour. Add the lemon juice (and vanilla if you wish). Pour the resulting syrup through a sieve into whatever container you have chosen. Store in the fridge.


To use: mix in proportions of 1 Tbsp syrup to 1 cup water (still or sparkling) or to taste. As noted above, I like it a bit weak. David prefers it stronger.

in my atelier

My sewing room has been temporarily elevated to 'atelier' status. On account of the wedding dresses. One down and one to go, I should be firmly entrenched in creative mode. I should be and I think I want to be but I have been dragging my feet. Next week, come hell or high water I no longer have even a tiny bit of choice if I don't want to disappoint a lovely bride and  reveal myself to be a heel of large proportion. I like the whole wedding dress creation thing - the fabrics, the design possibilities, getting lost in the creative moment, and of course the romance. I enjoy the challenge of the "how" as well as the "what".  


I should be firmly entrenched, happy as a pig in mud but I get distracted and side-tracked by new babies, and school concerts, and trips, and weeding gardens, and planting, and books to be read, and recipes to be tried. I am happy to be distracted because as happy as I am in my atelier ....weddings and new babies are all tangled up in my heart with Merin and sometimes those memories are still very tender. Tender but not painful, fresh but - thankfully - no longer raw, cherished. I work in my little room and take out memories of other dresses as I listen to the playlist I started when I made Hannah's dress and added to as I made Merin's. I remember Eden's insistence that I make her dress - and I am so glad she won the day. I was afraid of the project - emotionally laden and with the potential for terrible disappointment on both our parts. Her faith in me gave me faith in myself, the dress was beautiful and she in the dress, and we have yet another bond. When I made Hannah's dress I knew her so little - it became the start of a cherished friendship and mutual respect. And Merin's dress relieved and delighted both of us.


I have made five wedding dresses and altered several more. I have felt honoured and privileged to be involved with each. A wedding dress is more than just a beautiful garment, more than a special dress worn to the party of a lifetime. It represents a full and trusting heart given with faith, joy, and love, looking forward with hope to a wonderful shared future. It is what a woman wears on the day her marriage begins not just at her wedding. It is a unique symbol.


My nose will be pressed to the grindstone next week and the threads will fly. Fingers crossed the next creation will be all that someone hopes it will be. 

photo courtesy of eden lang pictures. Looking through the bridal shoot again, so many dear, dear memories - of Merin, of the morning of the shoot, of my girls laughing together. So rich.

sunday evening reflections

On Sunday evening I feel so .... full. I love the way the family flows together. The way each little family  blends and the lines between blur. The way that Thomas naturally holds his brother's baby son during the meal because Tiff is here on her own with two babies while Mark is finishing an end-of-term art project. Big(er) cousins holding baby cousins and learning more about the responsibility of being a helper and a role model - a "big sister" or "brother". I love working, together with my daughters, in the kitchen - equals and friends, easy. David with all the little ones vying for space in his arms. Eden's love and laughter. Hannah's warmth and beautifully round baby-belly. Tiffany's sweet soft smile. Deacon learning to play chess. All of it so very precious. Another day to hold in my heart. Forever.

Thanks Eden for grabbing my camera and recording these moments.

mark and isaac

There are some very beautiful pictures of this sweet father and son on Eden's blog today. 


Isaac is a solid blend of both his beautiful parents but the indisputable legacy from his dad? - his hands! I see his long, long fingers and remember so very clearly Mark's long, long fingers doing the same air ballet. What joy.....


I love them both. So much. Mark - his whole life and Isaac - already. Of course.

Congratulations Mark, Tiffany, and Kayden.  

Eden, thank you once again for sharing your wonderful talent so lovingly. The pictures you take are an incredible archive of the life of our family - such a rare and lovely blessing. You cannot begin to know how I treasure each image. 

laugh

This is my first born - Jonathon. The list of his amazing qualities is very long. I am not prioritizing but one of the things that really stands out is ... Jonathon really knows how to laugh. He has (quite possibly) the best laugh in the world. No really - he does. It is impossible to feel anything less than happy when you hear him laugh. He laughs readily. Honestly. Openly. Joyfully and often. Never at - sometimes with. It is so perfectly perfect. Everyone joins, tears roll, abs hurt. When you catch your breath, life just feels better. It is one of the (many) things that I love about him.

I was reading about laughter and health. Jonathon should live to be a very healthy old man. I am guessing anyone who has the blessing of living around him will live to a happy old age as well. Did you know that when you laugh your heart rate increases, blood vessels expand, and of course you gulp in tons more oxygen. Then blood flow increases, muscles relax, and blood pressure is better. One study found that people with heart disease are 40% less likely to laugh at things than others!!!  Laughter can help relieve pain and reduce tension. It enhances relationships - putting others at ease, increasing tolerance and reducing irritability. Life is just easier to deal with in ever so many ways. I am left marvelling that all too often there are any of us unwilling to let go and laugh.

I love to hear the people I love laugh and to laugh with them. I wish I could laugh 

with Jonathon more often. But even thinking about that wish I feel my kinks unwind and my spirits lift. What a wonderful quality -  to cultivate, to appreciate.


Let's laugh more. 


photo by Dennis Gocer  - The Collective You

excitement

Excitement is a HUGE part of the Christmas fun. When I was a child I would be so excited that I really could not sleep on Christmas Eve. I must admit that my extreme excitement was entirely selfish - the anticipation for what was in the packages under the tree and what Santa might have included in his sleigh for me.....well, it was just too much for my self-centered little self. Happily, I can honestly say that although I still find Christmas full of excitement it has been many years since that was motivated by what I might be receiving and is completely focused on my hope of the gifts I give conveying the love I feel.

Today I am very excited because the second issue of KINFOLK magazine is available. And Eden is one of the contributors!!!! I am so proud of her. Really. You cannot imagine how thrilled I am. I think it is even better (way better in fact) than if I had been the one involved in the publication. Another one of the perks of being the mom of a wonderfully talented and wonderfully wonderful woman.

If you have an iPad (and a moment) you can check it out online. Otherwise you can order a hard copy and patiently wait.

kinfolkmag.com

Another day closer to Christmas! and December 12 is counted.

(As is December 9, 10, and 11. The weekend passed in a flurry of snow, shopping, church, music, and wrapping - great Christmas-y things all! )

quiet

Thomas, Hannah, Jane, and Theo are gone - safely and happily settled in their new home. It is so very quiet here now. I have more or less made the tour of the house and taken care of cleaning all the little elf tracks from the windows and walls. The bits and pieces are once again back where they live. And it is quiet. I miss the joyful greetings first thing in the morning. Or indeed whenever I was greeted. Kids are wonderful that way - they aren't shy about letting you know they love you. I even miss the inevitable sibling squabbles. The noise and the mess - that is what we make a home to contain and that is what makes a house more than a showpiece. Really living together. It isn't like the movies - neither the good nor the bad. It is just real and really wonderful. Sometimes everything is in its place and things look beautiful. Other times stuff is all over the place and life is simply beautiful - because we are together. As I clean and sort - in the quiet - I am grateful that there are sweet little people that come to my home and are happy and comfortable here. Comfortable enough to make a mess, to ask for snacks, to make a clubhouse out of my pantry, to invite the kids next door over to play, to climb on my lap and read a book with me, to stay and be loved. What a sad house it would be if it was always clean and quiet.

Sorry. Wasn't going to. Had another look and just had to. Because I think they are so incredibly precious. Theo clearly has no idea what is going on (it only took one house and he was all over this activity!) and Ysa just as clearly wants nothing at all to do with whatever it is (and she was DONE after that one house. lol) Man! I love my sweet littles.

jane's wedding plans

Apropos of nothing, Jane announced at dinner tonight that she does not want to marry Theo. In the silence that followed this announcement, we all reflected that this is probably for the best. Before anyone could venture a response, she explained that he would be too crazy at the wedding. Smothering laughter, her audience almost choked on the rice. But it really is a very good decision and good to get out of the way now.

(Jane will be 4 years old on Christmas Day and Theo is her very nearly 2 year old brother.)

painted toenails

I must confess that I have sadly neglected an area of personal grooming this past year that was previously rarely overlooked and always enjoyed. Toenails. Not the entire pedicure thing - just the painting of the toenails. Even when I finally booked a real pedicure I couldn't commit to a color and finally told the girl to just use a base coat and leave it at that. Since I have always looked forward to summer and bare toes with a bright polish on the nails, it was a bit...strange, this attitude of mine. Perhaps it is just the association - Merin was always my toenail technician. She insisted on being the one to paint both my nails and Eden's every summer. In fact, until last night (and other than the occasional professional excursion) I can't remember when anyone else has been the painter. Even when she was hugely pregnant just before Ysa was born, there she was, legs straddled on the floor, leaning over her belly, carefully painting my toenails - at her insistence! But I think I have broken the barrier. I am over the hump. And I have the cute, fun, toenails to prove it. 


Yesterday afternoon I was shopping with my adorable niece and fun sister-in-law (in Las Vegas - and yes I am having a ton of fun!) We stopped into Sephora and our attention was caught by some pretty cool nail polish. We read the product info, got ourselves all girly-excited, and made the purchase. After homework and that other necessary nasty stuff we got down to the real business of the night. What fun we had! This nail polish has iron bits in it that respond to a magnet on the end of the cap to make cool patterns on your nails. (See my left big toe) The fun part is the surprise - you have no control over what you end up with. All three of us sported different looks. But we feel cool. Especially after we googled the product and found out that it was only released six days ago and Katy Perry (ya - I almost took it off right away. lol) uses it too. What geeks we are!


Whatever - I can hardly stop admiring my toes this morning. It feels so good. Thank goodness for a 17 year-old, cool, sweet niece. Thanks Robyn.


In the event that anyone is curious about the polish - it is Nails Inc. Magnetic Polish and the color is "trafalgar square".

twentyfour

I love this picture of Merin (taken by her sister Eden Lang) - it is how I think of her. Happy, buoyant, graceful, beautiful. How I love her! and miss her today. Her birthday.

Thomas

Today is Thomas's 29th birthday. He is about as middle as one could be in a family - he is the third of five children with both an older brother and an older sister and a younger brother and a younger sister. But anything else about Thomas is definitely not middle of the road. He is a first rate kind of guy in every significant way.


Thomas is the father who plays pirate with his kids on an evening when his wife is out. Plays pirate with all the fun props  - the skulls and bones dug out of the Halloween box along with other pirate bits - and honestly enjoys it. And then baths the kids and puts them to bed with a story after saying prayers.

Thomas is the guy who loves the outdoors - rock-climbing, hiking, backpacking, camping, snowboarding.He is also the guy who learned how to drywall by watching youtube videos and then did his basement - and it looks great! Really. And made cool light fixtures for their home out of odd parts. And they look great too. Really.


Thomas is the son who uses a day off work to spend the entire day (from 8:00 AM-10:30 PM) helping us with our recent interior painting project. The brother that helps build decks or paint or work on renovation projects. The chemical engineer who paints beautiful pictures.


He is a man who is honest and ethical and trustworthy, absolutely. Who is committed to his family, his God, and his faith. Thomas is the man who will stay the course. He is fun, funny, loving, strong, nerdy sometimes and cool always. 


In response to a birthday email I sent him this morning he said:
Moms should really be given something on their children's b-days.  After all it was YOU who did all the hard work on this day 29 years ago!  
What he doesn't know is that he is the gift - he was the gift 29 years ago and he is every time I see him. I love him so, so much. 

Happy Birthday Thomas!