Ok, round two.
"The pardable of Zacchaeus."
Part 1
Part 2 (interrupted by the Babe)
Part 3
Monday, December 16, 2013
Story Telling
We love stories. Hearing them, reading them, telling them.
Every night, the boys are tucked in their beds nice and tight. We kiss them. Recite a few verses. Turn out the lights and hit the play button on their stereo.
The stories start to play.
Sometimes its AA Milne or CS Lewis or Roald Dahl, lately its been the Jesus Storybook Bible recordings. They are read by a man with an English accent.
The Bear has memorized nearly all the stories and loves reciting them. At times he busts out his English accent, which is quite quite hilarious.
I've never shared a video on here before, usually videos end up on facebook. But since this is a 3 part story, I thought I'd upload the story telling here.
Enjoy......
the pardable of the prodigate son :)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Happy Birthday Meme
An excerpt from something I posted back in January, in honor of my great grandmother's birthday today. Boy do I miss her!
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January 2013....
I've decided to learn how to knit and crochet. Why did I choose this? Well, I wanted something to do with my hands while my boys were working at their play doh or legos or lincoln logs. A mindless busy work, but still beautiful and something I can bless others with. And because...I miss my great grandmother.
I was blessed to have her in my life for 18 years. Our birthdays were two days apart and we were known to rock a shared birthday cake at a family party or two.
We did not get along too well the first 16 years since I had an affinity for frogs, dirt, pranks and daredevil schemes. She most assuredly did not like any of the above. Nope. No way. We did not get along. At least, I thought we did not get along….
Now that I am a mother, I look back and realize that while she did like to fuss and cluck at me…she really loved me.
I remember how nice she always looked. Hair like a football helmet. Not a single strand out of place. Nails always polished a nice peachy sheen. Pant suits. Lots and lots of pant suits. Clean, tidy, organized…and not afraid to party. :)
Every once in a while she would surprise me by doing something totally goofy and fun. She agreed to put on a clown costume one year for halloween, suggested by my mom at the last minute. Five minutes before we were to walk out the door and into the neighborhood, she agrees and dons this hideous polyester footie pajama. It came with a metallic wig.
METALLIC.
16 years of that sort of thing. Super organized, predictable day to day order and then...the unexpected element that would put the great in "great grandma!"
She suffered a stroke and was blind the last two years of her life. I used to jokingly say to her that she liked me better when she couldn’t see how untidy and messy I was. Because we were quite suddenly, inexplicably closer than ever. A light turned on in the darkness.
During junior year of high school I would drive an extra thirty minutes out of my way after school to the nursing home just so I could hold her hand and listen to her talk.
I learned so much about her that last year. She told me a few stories she had never shared with anyone else. I don’t know why she chose to tell me of all people…but I am glad she did.
Yeah, she loved me a lot.
I loved her too.
Have I mentioned yet that she was the craftiest person ever?
She knew how to sew and knit and crochet. She would make such beautiful things. I used to love to watch her work. She made a pair of little snowmen once for my mom for Christmas. I used to hold them every year when we took them out of storage and run my fingers over the loops and hooks.
After she died I would run my finger over those loops and feel a bit closer to her.
So in her honor, I am picking up that heavy crochet needle and learning this new art. If I can make three things before the year is out, I’ll consider it a success.
Hand in hand with this learning of a new code and a new rhythm, I want to tell my boys all the stories I know about Meme.
So that when they run their hands over each loop and hook of my handiwork, they will remember her. Stories about their blue eyed great great grandmother, the rigidly organized party animal who would surprise her family with something zany from time to time.
------------------------------------------------------------------
January 2013....
I've decided to learn how to knit and crochet. Why did I choose this? Well, I wanted something to do with my hands while my boys were working at their play doh or legos or lincoln logs. A mindless busy work, but still beautiful and something I can bless others with. And because...I miss my great grandmother.
I was blessed to have her in my life for 18 years. Our birthdays were two days apart and we were known to rock a shared birthday cake at a family party or two.
We did not get along too well the first 16 years since I had an affinity for frogs, dirt, pranks and daredevil schemes. She most assuredly did not like any of the above. Nope. No way. We did not get along. At least, I thought we did not get along….
Now that I am a mother, I look back and realize that while she did like to fuss and cluck at me…she really loved me.
I remember how nice she always looked. Hair like a football helmet. Not a single strand out of place. Nails always polished a nice peachy sheen. Pant suits. Lots and lots of pant suits. Clean, tidy, organized…and not afraid to party. :)
Every once in a while she would surprise me by doing something totally goofy and fun. She agreed to put on a clown costume one year for halloween, suggested by my mom at the last minute. Five minutes before we were to walk out the door and into the neighborhood, she agrees and dons this hideous polyester footie pajama. It came with a metallic wig.
METALLIC.
16 years of that sort of thing. Super organized, predictable day to day order and then...the unexpected element that would put the great in "great grandma!"
She suffered a stroke and was blind the last two years of her life. I used to jokingly say to her that she liked me better when she couldn’t see how untidy and messy I was. Because we were quite suddenly, inexplicably closer than ever. A light turned on in the darkness.
During junior year of high school I would drive an extra thirty minutes out of my way after school to the nursing home just so I could hold her hand and listen to her talk.
I learned so much about her that last year. She told me a few stories she had never shared with anyone else. I don’t know why she chose to tell me of all people…but I am glad she did.
Yeah, she loved me a lot.
I loved her too.
Have I mentioned yet that she was the craftiest person ever?
She knew how to sew and knit and crochet. She would make such beautiful things. I used to love to watch her work. She made a pair of little snowmen once for my mom for Christmas. I used to hold them every year when we took them out of storage and run my fingers over the loops and hooks.
After she died I would run my finger over those loops and feel a bit closer to her.
So in her honor, I am picking up that heavy crochet needle and learning this new art. If I can make three things before the year is out, I’ll consider it a success.
Hand in hand with this learning of a new code and a new rhythm, I want to tell my boys all the stories I know about Meme.
So that when they run their hands over each loop and hook of my handiwork, they will remember her. Stories about their blue eyed great great grandmother, the rigidly organized party animal who would surprise her family with something zany from time to time.
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The update to this story is that I completed two pieces of work and am 80% of the way through with my third piece.
I loved learning her art. I loved feeling close to her whenever I picked up my crochet needle.
Happy Birthday Meme. I hope to one day rock helmet hair, pant suits, crochet needles and spontaneity just like you.
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