Jonas turns TWO at the ZOO!

We met family on a Sunday morning at the Houston Zoo, and at the mere mention of the word, Jonas would get a big grin across his face and he'd say emphatically "joo!" He loves animals, and what two year old wouldn't? :)  We saw giraffes and elephants and played at the petting zoo.  We had pizza and cupcakes (or as he calls them, "happy cakes") and rode the carousel and the train through Hermann Park.  It was a perfect day treasured with family.  Thank you Lord Jesus for the blessing we have in Jonas, who brings so much love and joy to us!

Happy First Sunday of Advent!

Best part of the day

3rd annual Destin thanksgiving

More photos coming! Stay tuned :)

Milo's Thanksgiving pageant

We look forward to this special family school celebration each year. Milo performed all the choreography (but did not sing). Last year he didn't want to do the choreography OR sing...he pretty much just pouted and picked grass leaves so we were pleasantly treated this year! Hopefully more video and photos to come soon. We had to miss Dominic's celebration at school since we are Florida-bound.

Many blessings for a Happy Thanksgiving to all our friends and family!

Please, Mommy? Pleassasee????

Milo wants to start the day with chess

Doing a little house painting

Ren Fest

Costumes

This year we had a mad scientist, a Dalmatian ( who changed into Superman at the last minute) and from Jonas' favorite book of all time, the zookeeper and gorilla from Goodnight, Gorilla. Any parent of young children who reads this book will relate to the zookeeper and his wife. ;)

Cheese!

My Mom's Eulogy for Grandma

I would like to begin by thanking everyone in attendance today.

Thank you for being here to pay your respects to mom. My brothers and

their families have us in their thoughts and prayers right now as we

celebrate the life of our dear mother, grandmother, and great

grandmother. Thank you for the love and concern that you have shown

for her over the years.

Mom was a kind-hearted, compassionate and caring woman. She

loved her Savior more than anything in this world. She expressed her

love by sharing what mattered most to her, and that was her faith. She

more than any person I have ever met, was able to shun the world and

fasten her eyes on the treasure of eternal life with God the Father, Son

and Holy Spirit. She had a sense of urgency about making sure that

everyone whose life touched hers knew the importance of the gift of

grace. She did not have elegant tea parties, but she always insisted on

sharing a cup of coffee and a cookie when you came to visit. She did not

spend long hours getting a makeover; she spent hours reading her Bible

and singing from her hymn book. She wanted a spiritual makeover for

herself and for each of us. Sometimes this could be painful, but pain is a

challenge we must all be willing to endure for the sake of our faith and

to be like the one who has loved her so and loves each one of us so.

Mom grew up in a large family with four brothers and two sisters.

Being the oldest, she helped her mother raise a lot of the children. When

World War II arrived, mom like many women of the day went to work.

When the war ended and all our boys came home, she met Harold, our

dad and the two of them fell in love. They quickly married and started a

family. These were the good old days. Everyone was happy the war was

over, new families were creating new jobs, and people defined

themselves more by their relationships than by their possessions.

Mom worked hard at home and dad worked sometimes at several

jobs to cover the costs of raising a family. We as children were never

spoiled with material things, but there was a lot of affection. One of the

things Mom expressed to me in these last days surprised me. She

said “We tried to shelter you children, but it didn’t work.” All three of

us went on past a secondary education, started families, and busied

ourselves with finding the best employment we could find, and perhaps

that ambition was difficult for Mom to understand. She was born to be

with the Lord, one set apart. As I was reflecting on mom’s life just a few

days before she passed, one word just came on in neon lights: authentic.

She was comfortable in her own skin and said what she wanted to say. I

always knew where I stood, even if I did not always understand the

criteria of evaluation.

Mom liked to garden and I have many memories of her among

her beloved peonies, cultivating them and then arranging them. There

was also a small orchard of apple and plum trees in our backyard. My

Grandma Julia and Mom would make applesauce and plum jam in the

fall. There were many times I can recall entering by the back door to

witness an apple pie being assembled. Yes, from scratch.

Mom could be an outgoing person when she could be with people

who shared her faith. That is where her joy and her sense of humor were

expressed in capital letters. She and dad both taught Sunday school for

many years. When they retired in Florida, they opened their spare

bedroom to missionaries returning home for rest and reconnection with

their church community in Florida. Now that I am a bit older myself, I

can appreciate how much energy this hosting must have taken for them

at their advanced age.

I am sad that my mom is gone, but am happy to know that she

lived such a long fulfilling life. Every time we met, she spoke of her

eight grandchildren and twelve great grand children. She wanted us to

stay together. While my mom is not here in the flesh, I know that she is

here in spirit. My mom taught me so much about being an authentic

person. I woke up on Saturday morning with a vision of Mom in her

white bridal gown, sailing through the heavens shouting “Yahoo!” and I

laughed out loud. So her first gift to me from heaven has been to start

my day with a good laugh. I know that her kind heart and spirit will be

having the same impact on all of us as we remember Mom. She wanted

joy for each of you in your life. She was only saddened by the things

that we allow to come between us and divide us. I know that my mom’s

spirit lives on in all of us. Mom, I love you and will miss you.

Margaret Hulda DeLonge, 1920-2012. 

Said today by my eldest sister Sarah during my Grandmother's Eulogy.

As I prepared to come here today, I reflected on the fact that I only knew Grandma for the last part of her life, and I had a desire to consider what she was like before I knew her. In seeing her name on the program, I imagined the moment of her birth, when her parents realized that their firstborn child was a girl, and chose the name Margaret Hulda for her. I thought about the joy with which they must have received her, the way that they adored her and cared for her, the promise of new life that she represented to them. I wondered about what she was like as a little girl: what games she liked to play, what friends she had, how she behaved at school. Knowing that she was the oldest child, I imagined what kind of big sister she was, and how this role shaped who she would be for the rest of her life. I pictured her playing with her younger siblings and helping to care for them, arguing with them, teaching them, advising them. I reflected on how much her parents must have relied on her for help, especially with her mother's health problems, and how she must have grown up with the expectation of becoming a mother and housewife. When I looked at her wedding picture, I thought of how excited she must have been on that day, how enamored she must have been with Grandpa, how glamorous she must have felt in her wedding dress, how much her sisters must have looked up to her and admired her and perhaps even envied her. I wonder whether she knew how beautiful she was, whether she was flirtatious or demure, confident or unsure of herself.

 

I've enjoyed hearing little anecdotes about her from her relatives whose memories of her predate mine. For example, her sister-in-law, Ellie, gives Grandma credit for her own entrance into the Gohr family, because when her husband, Grandma's younger brother, asked her for advice, she told him: "If you love her, then marry her!" And her niece, Claudia, recalls what a wonderful hostess Grandma was, especially in the days when she and Grandpa would host spontaneous family picnics at their house after church each Sunday. They were both so full of joy and hospitality and love of family. Grandma's nephew Steven has similar memories of Grandma enjoying sing-a-longs at family parties, and specifically remembers one party at her parents' home when he was about 10 years old: she was playing a memory game with him that had the entire room full of laughter. Even our cousin, Jeremy, has fond memories of visiting Grandpa and Grandma with us when they lived in Edgewater. His recollection is of their kindness and affectionate generosity to him.

 

I share these stories because I wanted to be sure that what happened here today reflected the totality of her life, and not only her last few years. She was a beautiful, faithful, vivacious, playful, caring, spirited, hospitable, and lovable person who touched many lives, and will be remembered for all of these qualities. 

My red truck guy

Sitting on top of the world

Jonas' words 23 months

This is not a comprehensive list but I'm adding to it as I hear them. :)  This Mama has not been documenting very well lately!

Boots
Cow
Cakoo - cookie
Gank goo - Thank You
Okay
Mommy
go-go-go!
Appy! (any time he sees a candle)
Bunkie (pumpkin, and also uses this for Grandma for some reason)
Moo Moo (Milo)
Bumby (Uncle Steve)
Owl
Shoes
Ju (juice)
I want this (self explanatory)
Daddy
Papa
Nanny (Senele)
Book
Train
Plane
Boat

All for Fall

We visited the Farm Patch over the weekend and took advantage of some great photo ops. The set up was so awesome this year! Too bad our offspring were not as excited about pictures as we were. They were thinking of the barbeque dinner afterwards methinks (and so was I to tell the truth!)

And just some clips of my favorite artist. This is what happens when I'm asked if he can play computer games and I say, okay, 10 minutes of piano first.  Apparently he opts for art instead. It's all good, right? 

Fine motor practice

I'm trying to get back into Montessori home jobs now that we're settled in to our new digs. Milo is using an eye dropper to pour water into play dough molds. I also set out a plastic pair of tweezers from a toy doctor's kit for him to tong the Pom poms from one place to another....still locating the bath mat to finish the job. Hoping these skills will help us with coordination and focus needed for writing!

Hauling pea gravel

I think I might have chosen the right job for Milo for his preschool work day.  :)

Writing blog

I am moving my writing over to a blog which will be called Beata Vita and I would love it if you could follow me there, too!  My mama-jules blog will still be for family chronicles.  Thank you so much for visiting us on the web!

Pumpkin time!

What happens to a dream deferred?

Writing has been a dream of mine since I first graffitied the walls of my sister's bedroom with a green crayon. In any group of which I've been a part, any position I've held, any event I've organized....I have gravitated to the aspect of that role which allows me to write. If I could rewind time, I'd ignore every person who told me I'd never make any money and instead focus on those people who told me it was most important to do what you love. 

A few years ago, I pressed pause on a promising Master's degree in Counseling and took an interview to write features for a local publication. After writing for three years, I still stumble over the admission that I am a writer. At first I thought I'd only feel comfortable admitting it once I was published.  Then I thought I'd only feel comfortable once I was paid. As it turns out, I'd probably feel more comfortable sky-diving in a tornado while holding five rattlesnakes than admit that I am "writer." No, I am far more comfortable saying I'm writer in the works.

Writing is a bit tricky in our world today when every goldfish swimming in a fish bowl has their own blog and the definition of "published" is a moving, ever-changing target. The pressure to stand out as creative and strong, authentic and not cliche is more than ever, to me. Just gathering my writing samples, updating my resume and trying to understand what a "media specialist" means is almost enough to make me reconsider. Recently I decided not to approach my writing so formally as a career, but to "find where your gifts and your passions intersect" as my wise mother told me years ago.  I realized that if I have anything to offer the world, if God truly did give me the gift of writing, then I must only write what He finds useful for me to say. Also, I need to stop writing run-on sentences.*

My recent decision to begin writing in my own voice has taught me something critical already....  creativity can not be commanded, only inspired. I am grappling with this, since my insights have a tendency to show up unannounced and only when I have a half-melted crayon and a children's bulletin within arm's reach.

Thank you for following me in this dream. I am not sure where it might lead but I hope to make it worth your while.

*Note to self: find some editor friends willing to work pro-bono. Supply plenty of wine so they will be totally honest.

Ushering in October

Dominic and some of his buds at the Red Carpet Showcase at his school, a few minutes later he was in his first 2nd grade musical performance.  It was a fantastic evening!

Jonas, caught in the act of being cute. Totally busted. Probably was on his way to the pantry to ask for another cookie.

Sir Milo, posing with our sitter Katelyn. I never tire of his imaginative play!