THIS & THAT AROUND OUR HOME...

 

 

 

If you have a family member or close friend serving our country, you will enjoy reading A Cup of Tea.  It was written by our oldest daughter when her husband came back from his first tour to Iraq.

 

 

A Cup of Tea

The evening hour is here.  The sky went from blue to black when I wasn't looking and I've missed the in-between colors once again.  From upstairs I hear the front burner flipped on and the teapot being filled with fresh, cold water.  It's time for tea.  My husband has turned this nightly ritual into an art.  I can picture every movement.  While he's waiting for the water to boil he will place two mugs on the kitchen counter, usually the set my sister gave me for Christmas several years ago - the tan and olive green ones with painted leaves and purple grapes.  Next he'll select two teabags from the basket in the spice cabinet: Earl Grey, Orange Spice, Green, English Breakfast, or maybe even Blackberry Zinger.  Once the kettle begins to sing, he'll pour the steaming water into our mugs and let the tea steep for five minutes.  (The steeping time is important.  If he receives a phone call or gets busy and forgets the tea for too long, he'll start completely over.)  When the tea is ready, he'll scoop up each teabag with a spoon and wrap the string around the bag and the spoon, wringing the tea out into the cup.  After the bags are discarded he stirs in some honey; a teaspoon for mine, a tablespoon for his.

The elegance of our friendship thrives in these moments.  The spoon clinks and clanks against the sides of each mug as he stirs in the honey.  Then he comes to the bottom of the stairs and calls up, "Want a cup of tea, Sweetie?"  This always makes me smile.  He's been preparing our tea for ten minutes - why does he bother to ask now?  "Sure!" I answer.  But he's already half-way up the stairs with his steaming offering.  Maybe this ceremonial conversation of ours is just part of the ritual, part of the atmosphere of intimacy he creates with his simple act of kindness.  He pulls up a chair and we talk, the elegance of our friendship thriving in this moment.

When my husband left for war in the spring of 2004, I vainly attempted to calculate the sacrifices I would have to make during his year-long absence: his presence, his touch, his support, his help, his knowledge, and his influence in our home.  But I forgot about the tea.  Losing the evening's cup of tea never crossed my mind until after he had been gone for several days.  I tried to brew my own, but no matter what I did, I could not make it taste like his.  It's just hot water!  And a tea bag!  And a little honey!  Right?  Apparently not.  It seems silly now that our first phone call was taken up with tea tips.  I can just picture him standing in a phone booth in Kuwait, fifty soldiers in line behind him, all looking at their watches as he yells into the phone, "Are you sure you're starting with really cold water?"

 

Then one night, sitting at my kitchen table, I quietly pushed my olive green mug away.  It was an awful cup of tea - weak, barely warm, and too sweet.  While the moonlight poured sideways through my windows, I knew there would be no more tea until he came home.  No more fragrant moments with my lover.  No more lingering over Earl Grey steeped in love.  No more spa for the soul fashioned with his hands.  No more quiet spaces bursting with serenity and a peaceful perspective.  I would have to wait for him to come home to live again.

 

I adjusted.  The seasons unfolded and I paid attention because I had to.  Our children watched me carefully to make sure I appreciated every ripening tomato and blooming geranium.  Summer arrived with wildflowers and the ice-cream truck.  I stopped watching the evening news and started mailing a package a week to Iraq - boxes crammed with goodies, love letters, and photographs of the kids running through the sprinkler in our front yard.  Fall tumbled down like the orange and red leaves on our trees.  The children and I were busy with school projects and football practice.  But sometime around October I began sleeping in my clothes.  By the time winter descended my heart felt as cold and hard as the ground outside.  It was so dark I could not see that spring was just around the corner.  I decorated my face with a plastic smile the same night I decorated our tree.  The kids were counting on me to deliver Christmas and I wouldn't let them, or him, down.

 

Sometimes after waiting so long, you forget what it is you're waiting for.  My perspective had shifted over the months.  By the time I found myself sitting on those narrow bleachers, waiting for my husband to march back into my arms, the only thing I was aware of was my own suffering.  I was like a woman near the end of an agonizing delivery, who has long since forgotten her anticipated child, and whose only focus is on making the pain stop.  The pain did, in fact, stop with his homecoming.  The miracle of having him back in our lives was overwhelming.  We couldn't stop looking at him.  The kids couldn't stop climbing all over him, patting his arms, legs, and hair while they laughed out loud.  Within the first few minutes I realized I was breathing again.  Long, slow inhales through the nose; relaxed exhaling from the pit of my stomach.  Had I been holding my breath this whole time?

 

Many hours later, after all the family and friends and well-wishers had gone home, I was upstairs in our bedroom tucking in the children.  Our youngest three boys had insisted on sleeping next to dad his first night home.  Their sleeping bags and pillows were spread across our bedroom floor.  I whispered goodnights as I picked my way between them.  That's when I heard my husband in the kitchen downstairs.  He flipped the front burner on and filled the teapot with fresh, cold water.  The cupboard doors whined just a little.  Mugs placed on the counter; tea bags gently ripped open; spoons clinking and clanking.  I sat down on the floor and started to cry.  It was time for tea.  Time for a cup of comfort. 

 

A Note From Linda...

  

Lynelle's husband, Ken, returned from his second tour to Iraq in August 2009 and a tour to Afghanistan in 2012. Their oldest son, Kenny Jr., is a Marine and was deployed to Afghanistan in September 2010 and again in January 2012.  Their second son, James, graduated from West Point Military Academy in May 2012 and from Ranger School in March 2013.  They have one teen daughter and three younger sons still at home.

 

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After a long, cold spring with too much rain, SUMMER is finally here!

 

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My husband and I welcome you to our home at Christmas!

We're so glad you dropped by...

 

 Step into our entry way...

  

The family room and combined kitchen is the heart of our home...

  

 

  

  

My husband bought me this pot rack for Christmas three years ago.

We finally got it installed last week just in time for the Tour of Homes!

 

A different view of the pot rack - and the kitchen...

  

  

The Nut Crackers are enjoyed by the kids, young and old...

  

 

  

More of the kitchen...

  

 

 

  

Other Christmas pretties...

  

 

  

Through the years, I've made most of our Christmas decorations.  I sewed the quilted stockings above and made the ceramic reindeer and sleigh below.  Last week our youngest married daughter asked, "Mom, how long does it take to collect so many Christmas decorations?"  I told her it takes a lifetime and that someday, when she lived life a little longer, she would have as many.

  

 

  

Years ago, I made the ceramic nativity.

All the kids and grandkids have grown up loving the Christmas story... 

  

 

 
 

This is a store-bought nativity, but equally as cherished...

  

 

  

Our dining room...

  

 

 

  

And the adjoining living room...

  

  

We are a very musical family...

   
  

The guest bathroom is decorated for Christmas too...

  

 

  

There's a tiny Christmas tree in the playroom for the grandkids...

  

 

  

Angels watch over our family at Christmastime - and all the time...

(Real angels, too.)

  

  

Angels we have heard on high

Sweetly singing o'er the plains,

And the mountains in reply

Echoing their joyous strains.

  

Come to Bethlehem and see

Christ whose birth the angels sing;

Come, adore on bended knee,

Christ the Lord, the newborn King.

  

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

  

 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

  

 

 

 

 

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  11/20/09:  If I could slow the clock down, I would linger a bit longer in Autumn... But now Winter is on the way and Christmas is coming, so it's time to move on.  This is our home during last year's snow storm.  We don't have snow like this but once in a decade, so the memories are still fresh and fun.  

 

In preparation for the Christmas Tour of Homes beginning December 14th, I will be removing the Autumn decorations on our front porch (below), and replacing them with CHRISTMAS!  My porch and my blog will be transformed for you - and especially for our kids and grandkids - who look forward to magic at Grandpa and Grandma's house!  You're cordially invited to come back to share in the joy...

 

   

 

09/24/09:  Last week I decorated the front porch in Autumn colors.  It's such a friendly access through which family, friends, stampers and scrapbookers enter.

 

 

 

 

  

This & That is intended to be a special, homey place where I can share golden nuggets about my family.  There are soooo many of us and we have wonderful traditions that span decades. 

 

Here's a photo of me (center) with my brothers and sisters when we were a little younger.  We're all married, with kids and grandkids - and even some great-grandkids!  Seven of us live in the same city and one lives five hours away.

 

Oooohhh, we have lots of stories to tell.  Check back for new adventures and fun photos. 

  

  

And here we are, a bit older, with our mom on her 85th birthday, this year.

 

 

 

We keep getting older.  This was taken on July 10, 2010.

 

 

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On October 15th, I posted a Handmade Woven Card, along with a promise to show you some of the handmade quilts I have made...

  

20"x 20" Wall Hanging

 

  

9" x 14" Wall Hangings

  

 

 

My Favorite Quilt

I sewed the basket handles then turned them inside out

and appliqued them to the quilt patch with tiny stitches.

 

 

 

22" x 14" Wall Hanging

  

 10" Diameter Wall Hanging 

 

 

 

The grandkids sleep in the Quilt Bedroom when they visit. 

There are lots of books, games, toys and doll babies too. 

 

 

 

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And today, ladies gather for the annual Christmas Luncheon at church...

 

Beautiful tables are elegantly set...

 

  

 

 

 

 

  

 

And a delicious buffet served...

 

 

INSIDE CHRISTMAS

 

The outside of Christmas is visible.  You can see it.  It is there in Christmas trees, in holly, in toys, in bright store windows, in gifts wrapped in colorful paper.  The outside of Christmas can be heard in chimes, in carols, in organ music, in the voices of the choir, in sleighbells.  The outside of Christmas can be tasted.  There's the turkey and cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and cookies.

 

In the hurry and scurry of Christmas, most of us limit our contact to the outside of Christmas.  We are so busy that we do not have time to get inside Christmas.  Christmas becomes a surface experience.  To discover the true riches of the Christmas season, we must penetrate beneath the surface.  We must get inside Christmas.  When we get inside of Christmas, Christmas will get inside of us and we will have a truly enriching experience.

 

No one knows how to go about exploring the inside of Christmas.  Each of us must go adventuring to find it in our own way.  One thing is certain... We must get away from the turmoil, crowds and outward excitement.  We must get away from the visible and journey into the invisible.

 

We must quiet the mind.  We must seek the inside of Christmas in the silence.  We may have to go alone into a cathedral or chapel to pray.  We may need to take a long walk under the stars, or through the falling snow.  We may choose to sit alone by the fire at home after all others have retired, and open ourselves to the inflow of goodwill, joy and peace through the Holy Spirit. 

 

When we take the time to seek and find the inside of Christmas, the Christmas spirit will glow with a new radiance within our hearts.

 

Kay Hollo found this reading among her mother's belongings, and shared it with the women at our Gift of Friendship Luncheon today.