From North of Here

Blogging Again?

2009-11-24T13:36:00-05:00

Well, I can't guarantee the same quality of posts that you are used to, but we have had several people express their concern about why we haven't been writing lately. We've been so busy as a family that it has been difficult to get online and blog about it. Plus with Facebook, we put status updates and pictures on there that it almost makes duplicate work to post on the blog.

So with that, I will be updating our blog to new software and will be posting in December. Our new blog software allows for easier posting and lots of cool photo album features. Since I primarily did the pictures for the blog and Jolene did all the writing, I will probably post more pics (and captions) than stories. Jolene gets all of the good stories since she is with the kids more often, and I will try to get them online when I can.

So, all that to say... We're gonna be back online in December. Hopefully our new blog will feature more photos and features that will attract you back. If you would, please post some comments to let us know you're still coming by to find out what's going on "from north here."

Chris

Fairness of Loss

2009-05-28T09:44:00-05:00

A year ago I had the last telephone conversation ever with my grandmother. It was a year ago. And we used to talk pretty regularly on the phone, so when it rang and it was her there was nothing to announce to me that it was the very last time that ring would be her calling for me.

And that's not fair.

"Fair" is something that is a big issue in our house these days. Gigi is very concerned about being fair. Her new favorite thing to tell me is "No fair!" To which I pretend those words are unknown to me. To her having to carry her own baseball glove is "no fair". To me it's knowing that the phone rang a year ago and I didn't know it was the last time.

I'm big on beginnings and endings. I love that my very first college class and my very last final exam as a senior were in the same building. I love full circle. I love breathing in and acknowledging that something is ending. I understand life, death, and new beginnings and all of that crap that people send to you in cards meant to heal loss. But what I can't get past is that I never thought that was the last time. And I wish I had known. I wish the kids weren't running around yelling while I was talking. I wish I hadn't been folding laundry. I wish the dogs hadn't been barking. I wish I could go back and just listen - fully listen, undivided attention listening.

But I can't.

The thing is that the first year without her has been numb. I've ignored things that would hurt. I kept busy on holidays and especially on my birthday. I didn't bother checking the mail on my birthday because I knew the card and the $5 bill that came every year, without fail wasn't going to be there. I won't get anything with her handwriting on it any more. I won't have her telling me how much she loves reading about what Will and Gigi do.

And that's the reason I haven't blogged with enthusiasm. It just seems pointless. Everyone has a special audience they write for. Mine left last June. And I want to say "no fair", but I'm 31 and I should know better because there are a great many things that aren't fair - moreso than losing one's grandmother. There are other people, other relatives who have the right to grieve and feel loss more than I do. And I know she's in a better place, and she's not "lost" and all of the junk we're taught to console ourselves or each other. But that doesn't make it fair. Not to me. Because the immense feeling of loss and grief is just overwhelming.

Signs of her and things we would talk about are everywhere. The blooming of bluebonnets this year nearly killed me. It killed me to have portraits taken of Will and Gigi. It killed me when radio stations have Elvis marathons to commemorate his birth and his death. There's an unbelievable feeling when I wash or see the quilts she made me for my high school graduation and then for my wedding. It hurts when Gigi demands her Big Bunny to sleep with - my grandmother never saw how much Gigi loves that bunny.

Right before I became familiar with cancer, and painkillers, and hospice care in a way I never want to be aquainted with it again I had to fill out some paperwork that involved a personality profile and psychological evaluation. It was for a job that has since faded into the background, but I was specifically asked "How do you handle loss?" And I answered it with key phrases "acceptance, prayer, moving on, better places -" all of those things someone who has never experienced a loss can arrogantly and sophomorically state with 100% assurance. It's easy to deal with loss when you've never met it.

But Loss came. And Loss still lives. And Loss sits in a corner and waits for me to slow down, to not be busy, to catch me when I'm not prepared and it jumps out and reminds me that I do not handle Loss well. Not on the inside. Not that I'm ever going to talk about. I handle Loss poorly.

Not to say I don't move on. I get up every morning. I go to the gym. I teach. I play with the kids. I volunteer. I plan parties. I feed people. I put on lipstick. I function. I love. I laugh with my sweet friends. But there are areas that are painful when they bump into Loss.

The things she made. My son asking to hear the lullaby that she sang to three generations. Elvis. Bluebonnets. Potato Salad. Hot tea. And the most cruel - when I deliver meals once a month to ill and elderly people. I walk in and hand them their food, help them arrange their pillows, walk past their oxygen tanks and see the warning signs on the tanks... And I just want to yell that it's not fair. To be able to sit in the corner and break down for a bit. But you can't. You have to move on. You're 31, you have meals to deliver. You have a yard to beautify. You have carpooling duties. You have clothes to wash. You have people who ask you why you haven't blogged. You have cats who need a clean litter box. You have sunscreen to apply, nails to clip, milk to buy. You're still here and you have to just move on.

But that doesn't make it any easier when the phone rings and you know it's not her.

Christmas Photos

2008-01-14T19:00:00-05:00

New Photos are finally up in the album.

Busy

2007-07-15T22:58:13-05:00

We've been too busy to write - it quit raining so we're outside. We're taking photos though so those are in the photo album.

Baseball Begins

2007-05-24T22:22:12-05:00

Photos of Wilson playing baseball are in the album. We added some of Reagan too, just so she wouldn't be left out.

Christmas Photos

2007-01-02T22:42:26-05:00

You can see the Christmas photos - the ones that we actually printed - in the photo album, along with pictures of Wilson's first bowling party.

Upgraders Unite!

2006-12-14T09:17:37-05:00

Several of you may have noticed something is missing from our blog. I'm willing to bet those of you who are missing the links on the right hand side of the screen have upgraded to Internet Explorer 7. If you have and notice you can't see the calendar, the archives, or the photo album, try grabbing the scroll bar at the bottom of your browser and scroll to the right. The links should all be there, just moved out of your sight. If not, let us know.

Our technical department is working on this to reformat our site. I'm told the technical department at From North of Here is very busy these days and "will get around to it" sometime. I've explained to the technical department we have readers who need their links. The technical department gave me a very dirty look over the dirty dishes the technical department was cleaning. The technical department asked can't you see the technical department is busy?!

Virtual Photo Album

2006-08-06T17:31:54-05:00

More pictures of the kids in the Photo Album.

The New Look with a Dance and a T-Shirt

2006-07-16T18:49:18-05:00

So, you may not have noticed, but we have new banners. (That's the picture thing up there at the top, Dad.)

Like the logo? Clever, huh? It was totally my idea, but it was a group effort. I came up with the idea, Chris made it happen, and Wilson invented a little dance. You take your pointer fingers, point one up and one down and move them up and down. He says it's the From North of Here dance. We should make t-shirts.... I think our best seller would be one that says "My Grandma is a Honey". Maybe not.

Busy Week

2006-05-02T23:12:11-05:00

We've been busy with work and school. This is Kenneth, Lesley, & kids' last week in the United States. They leave us early Sunday morning. I'm trying to stay busy so I don't think about losing a friend, but it's not working very well. You'd think we'd get used to seeing our friends graduate and move, but it doesn't get any easier - just harder.

Wilson has also started playing T-Ball. We've been trying to get some practice in here at home as well as shuttling him to his team practice. It's busy.

On top of that, we are working with closing on the house, getting the house packed up as much as we can, and trying to get things in order to move in three weeks.

I think next month we're just going to crash. We're already tired and it's only May 2nd. We've put new pictures in the album so you can see what the kids have been up to.

Doing Nothing While Doing Something

2006-04-12T21:00:00-05:00

Tonight I told Chris "Our blog is turning one." He said "What?" I said "It's our blog's first birthday. Do you want to do something for it?" He looked at me.

"What - you want to bake a cake or something?" He asks.

"No, I don't want to bake a cake. I just thought maybe we should DO something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Shouldn't we do something?"

He looks at me some more. "Do you want to give out prizes? Do you want to have people register and comment for prizes?"

"No."

"Because that way people would comment..."

"Our readers come to read. They're not coming to comment. That's why they are called readers. We can't change our reader expectations after one year. This works for us."

"Ok. So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Something. But I don't want prizes."

"Well... I don't know how to celebrate a blog birthday."

"We should. It's work writing a blog. It's work to keep it going and to keep people coming back. Those 100 readers need to be entertained. There are expectations."

"So you want to have a birthday party?"

"No. I don't want a party. Or a cake. Or prizes."

He looks at me and I look back. He walks off to fold the laundry and I keep washing the dishes.

Happy Birthday, Blog.

Photos

2006-02-06T07:28:00-05:00

Chris has been hard at work taking pictures. He posted several last night to the photo album. You can see them by clicking on the link under the Photo Album menu or by clicking here.

Reagan Photo Album >

Will Blog Soon... Don't leave...

2006-02-04T22:01:00-05:00

Believe it or not, I promise you will hear from us again. I could probably write some really great things right now considering the pain killers, no sleep, hormones trying to reset to normal - well, it would probably look really bad. Like a junky novel.

All is going well. We're so thankful for all of you who have prayed for us, called, sent all sorts of cards, gifts, flowers, and we are so blessed by the army of saints who have kept us supplied with meals. I promise to publicly thank each of you, just as soon as I am narcotic and hormone free... :)

We're doing well and we will show off the kiddos soon on the photo gallery. I know you're anxiously awaiting pictures of them.

Again, you can't imagine how blessed we have been by all of you. May God bless each of you as you have blessed and loved us.

Chris, Jolene, Wilson, & Reagan

Photo Gallery

2005-12-31T18:13:29-05:00

We have figured out the photo gallery. You can now go to "Photo Gallery" on the right side of the menus (near the bottom) and view photos. I know you're excited.

What We Did Over Thanksgiving Break

2005-12-03T08:58:00-05:00

It's taken a while to post for a few reasons: After leaving work for a few days when you return you have multiplied the work you need to do, Tired, Sick, and most importantly - that question over meals with family where they start to tell you something and then don't in fears "You might write about this on the web". No I won't. Promise. For now.

So here's a brief run-down of our trip to "the arctic" as Chris says.

You cannot leave 50 pound puppy unattended, even if it was in a "secure" room for three hours while you go to church. She will take apart the door frame.
The same woman who would march you off to the bathroom for sighing loudly in church will smile peacefully while she lets your 3 year old crawl around under the pews during service.
There is one "decent" Mexican food restaurant in the whole city - they don't have enchiladas on the menu, and Wilson does in fact know the difference between a burrito with cheese and an enchilada. He won't eat a "fake enchilada". Yes, it's aggravating.
If a stranger grabs and starts talking to your pregnant belly and your brother is standing there, your brother will not defend you or his unborn niece/nephew. He will, however, find this incredibly funny. He will laugh. Heartily laugh.
Chris gets really uncomfortable when his Marine Corps Vietnam Vet father-in-law tells him to sign up to go with him on a mission trip to the jungles of Guatemala and then starts telling him they may need to airlift into the jungle while encountering live fire. Real uncomfortable. But he signed up to go with Dad and Nate anyway. Trooper.
We babysat our 10 month old niece, Adison, one day. I realized I need to have another boy, not because of Adison, but because boy clothes are pretty idiot proof - and no one really pays attention to a boy's clothes, if they are wearing any at all. Girls come with tights, frilly diaper covers that match the embroidered smock and shirt. Girls have shoes with buckles. Girls have bows you need to keep track of. This is added to the fact that babies wear diapers, so after you get the onesie, dress, tights, frilly diaper cover, and shoes on the baby, there's a good chance you will spend 3/4ths of your day taking all this off, cleaning baby, and putting it back on again. I will say the child is beautiful and beautifully dressed. I just don't think I can do it. I may be able to pull off the hair bow if the only other thing she's wearing is a diaper. Assuming we never go anywhere, this may work.
My mom's house is the place to be to become healthy, loose weight, and detox yourself. Mom's diabetic. Mom makes diabetic friendly meals, has diabetic snacks, diabetic beverages. I will be staying at Mom's until I lose my baby weight - from Reagan and Wilson...
Deer Meat does not bother me. I do not protest hunting. I did not vote for the Green Party. I say this because my dad cooked his deer in the kitchen - he's done this since before I was born and I am accustomed to this practice. However, I was never pregnant when he did this before. The smell of cooking deer meat will induce vomiting. It has nothing to do with PETA, the Green Party, or anything "hippy" as my dad said. I was unaware that during all three of her pregnancies, Mom had to evacuate the house while Dad cooked his deer meat and sit in the car, in the cold, to keep from throwing up. This isn't something Mom told me about before hand. I think Dad thought we had concocted this to protest deer meat. I'm not a hippy, Dad. I'm just pregnant.
Wilson will talk a big game about the dinosaur exhibit at the Science Center until he actually gets there and sees the large, animated T-Rex. You will spend the next few hours trying to navigate the Science Center without passing the dinosaurs. If he sees the dinosaurs he becomes terrified and will scream "DON'T LET HIM EAT ME!".
My sister-in-law and brother are very, very clean people. They will never invite us over for dinner with tomato sauce and their brand new, white table linens.
My brother has received the same gift in several different formats the past three years from a certain family member who will go unnamed. It was a tape of music from a performer he would never have listened to. Last year it was a CD of the same thing. This year it was the actual record the other two gifts were pirated from. He doesn't own a record player. However, Nate could win an Oscar for the performance he has played the last three years opening the same gift.
Wilson cannot win the same Oscar award. His performance of crying baby while I held Adison was less than Oscar worthy. It was pretty sad.
In Wilson's mind if you wake up in the middle of the night, your aunt works just as well as your mom when you need to snuggle. Your aunt won't return you to your own room, lets you watch as many cartoons as you want, and lets you get away with murder. Your mom will spend the next month reprogramming your aunt's work.
If it has cranberry sauce on it, it is contaminated as far as Wilson is concerned.
Feeding 40 people Thanksgiving dinner takes a lot of work.

DVDs Bridging Generation Gap

2005-11-11T18:53:00-05:00

Chris went to pick up some groceries this week. The groceries are on one side of the store – electronics are on the complete opposite side, but somehow he managed to bring home a DVD with the groceries. Funny how that happens…

I didn’t care too much. The DVD was $1.00 and if it’s only $1.00 you have to buy it. Seriously. This DVD is of the Superman cartoons that aired when my dad was a boy. I won’t give specific years, but it was a long time ago – the cover indicates these are “vintage episodes”. Vintage is a word used when “oldies” no longer works out.

Wilson thinks these are great. And from what I’ve seen these are such innocent episodes. The “bad guy” in one is a robot. This is funny to Wilson because the “bad guy” robot is normal technology – Wilson loves those toys that are robots and respond to commands. This was another time, back when technology was the enemy, not some raving psychopath who will unleash a dirty bomb in a subway – that’s what we contend with on current cartoons.

DVD releases are such an interesting thing. The idea that my 3 year old is now watching the very same cartoons that my 58 year old dad watched when he was a boy amazes me. Funny that the “bad guy” technology in those cartoons is the only reason grandfather and grandson have watched the same cartoon – and both loved them.

The only concern I have is that I vaguely remember a story from my father’s childhood that involved the viewing of these cartoons we are showing Will. I remember hearing that, upon watching Superman, Dad decided he, too, would give flying through the air a go. He climbed out of an upstairs window and jumped. It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t tied a rope – around his neck – before jumping. (Before you think this was an attempt on his own life, he was wearing a cape and was only about 5 years old). The truly disturbing part is that my grandma saw it from another window while she was in the kitchen. She ran out to free him with a knife. Oh, well, we live in a one story house. What are the chances he’ll try to do what Poppy did 53 years ago?

Premeditated Housekeeping

2005-08-16T17:30:00-05:00

The only person I know who hates attention more than I do is my dear friend Lesley... So this goes out to her for the worst case of Premeditated Housekeeping I have ever been witness to.

To start off, I met Lesley through e-mail before she, her husband, and two darling children moved to Fort Worth from Johannesburg, South Africa. I had no idea what a darling friend I would make and I consider myself very fortunate to have her and her family become such and important part of my life.

While we were out of town at "The Reunion" Lesley was kind enough to watch the animals and the mail while we were gone. Lesley never fails to help us out with the animals and the mail - no small chore considering the amount of pets we have and the kind of mail we get (who wants important mail to Chris from the President of the United States sitting in their mailbox for days - see "Wilson's House Guest" if you're confused...).

The last couple of days before we left I really let the housework go. I mean GO. My mother would be embarrassed if she knew what it looked like before we left. Typically our house is clean, but we were running late for our trip, it was too hot, I'm pregnant, and I figured Lesley is the kind of friend I'm comfortable with to the point where I don't scramble to clean for her. Those, by the way, are the best kind of friends, ones you don't clean for because that means they are truly loved and truly your friends.

So we came home Sunday. I know about Santa. I know about the Tooth Fairy. I was not acquainted with the Amazing South African Pet Sitter. Not only does this person of myth, "ASAPS" actually exist, but she does way more than watch your pets and bring in your mail. The laundry was done - cleaned and folded. The living room was clean. The kitchen, which on Friday looked like it was the scene of a COPS raid, had a clean sink, clean counters, clean dished, and had a wonderful, clean, antiseptic smell.

We thanked Lesley for all of her hard work and for her love. I thought we had seen all of "ASAPS"'s handiwork. And then, this afternoon I saw it. My stove.

Those metal things under your burners on the stove - mine, which had been blackened and nasty, despite my best scrubbing and soaking efforts, were POLISHED. I could see my baffled expression reflected back at me. I called Chris in to show him. Chris shook his head in disbelief and said "This was premeditated housekeeping. She didn't just straighten up incidentally, she premeditated cleanliness here."

To my darling friend - I don't know how you did it, and I'm not sure why you did it, but I do know I can never repay the kindness you've shown to us - and to our stove. And you can never, ever move back to South Africa until you show me how you make burner pans look like chrome...

Tired

2005-06-05T21:44:00-05:00

We're all tired. For the last three weeks we have done nothing but travel. Traveling is fun, but there's something to just sleeping late in your own bed that can't be beat. Right after we returned from St. Louis I had one evening to do the laundry and then pack myself for a conference in San Antonio. Normally I don't go to conferences, and I can't say that I mind that too much. I got to go to a computer application conference. Wow. You wouldn't believe how many middle-age, partially bald men with ponytails listening to The Who on their IPod minis can fit into one room...

Chris has taken up protecting our home from the "immenent squirrel invasion" he sees approaching. We have pear, peach, and plum trees in the backyard. The squirrels cleaned out the peach tree, so Chris (and our neighbor Joe) have armed with pellet guns and electric fence wire. Rodents beware.

Hopefully we will have something exciting to write about soon, but for right now we are all tired and we're off to rest.

Why Blog?

2005-04-15T10:02:00-05:00

So - after my initial angst with blogs and bloggers (the whole point of your innermost thoughts is to keep them innermost - not to make the whole world aware of them), I gave in and got one. For one thing I know our friends and family want to see photos of Wilson (who wouldn't?) and I know sending digital photos through e-mail slows everyone down trying to download them. For another thing, I am married to a website developer - but that doesn't mean I know anything about making or maintaining a site where our friends and family can see what we're doing. And he's busy getting paid to make customer sites and my job is "pro-bono" and that puts it way down on his list. So I decided to try my hand with the enemy blog. This thing has templates - and all you have to do is click the easy buttons. And then, POOF, instant website with our family info on it! It's magic. Or it's technology. I don't understand either. Just as soon as I figure out how to upload digital photos, we will all be set! I give this about a day before Chris complains and he makes me learn how to use a "real" website...

The hardest part - so far - was trying to find a name. You have to name your blog. And, like all things dealing with the web, everything I put in was already taken (it does not pay to be the last one on the bandwagon), so I named it "From North of Here". Just so you don't have to wonder about the name: When I was a freshman at Baylor University in Waco, Texas I went to a rush function for a national service fraternity (I'll leave out their name) with a few girls from our dorm who were interested in being a part of a service organization as opposed to joining a social sorority. While we were there, one of the fraternity members says to me "Your accent sounds like you are from up north." I was shocked to hear I had an accent since I didn't think St. Louisians have accents so I said "Well, yeah, I am from north of here." The girl nodded and said "I thought so. You from Dallas?" No. Just a little further north. Anyhow, it sounded like a good name - and no one else had used it. Lucky me. I did not rush that organization by the way. I joined a social sorority - my sorority sisters had a better understanding of geography.