The Generation Of~

My mom comes from the generation of  "nicknacks"  The generation of  "photo albums"  And the generation of  "china cabinets".  All very wonderful things, if you like to dust all your nicknacks, and store all your albums, and actually use the china that's in the cabinet. 

One of the biggest goals I have while I'm with my mom this summer is to help her organize, and rid of anything unused. Myself (as mentioned in the past) feel it's important to go through stuff once a year or so. I realize that some things only get used once a year, but do we really need ten thousand mason jars? Really? And by the way, my mom has completely consented to this post and is fully aware that I am exposing her secrets. 

Actually she's totally oblivious. 


Isn't she sweet sipping her tea?




Another goal of mine during our stay here is to spend plenty of time in the kitchen with my mom. Whether it be cooking, baking, barbecuing, or canning, I hope to relive (and possibly recreate) some old childhood favorites. And she always seems to have an old trick up her sleeve.  Have I mentioned she comes from the generation of  "old tricks up their sleeves"?  Like using a plastic knife to cut the lettuce so the remaining leftovers don't turn brown. What?  Or how about taking a piece of cheese cloth and soaking it in vinegar and wrapping up your cheese with it so it doesn't mold. Bizarre! It's gonna be a long summer. 

Isn't she sweet sipping her water?






All in fun this should be adventurous. And I hope to start posting some recipes soon. For now, here's a bit of our menu over the last week.

Grilled Chicken Tacos

Jo Mama's Famous Spaghetti 

Turkey Taco Salad

Mothers Day Stew (by Avery)

By the way, mom wanted me to tell you that "her nicknacks are sentimental and that she's saving them for us kids". 


Okay mom.


She also comes from the generation of  "justification".

Temporary Home

I wish I had all the time in the world to break down our last weeks events. I'll spare you the boredom (this time) and fill you in on our where-abouts. I can finally take a deep breath (ironically on Mothers day) and do what I have missed dearly for several days now. Write.


Without hesitation we are settled in our new home (for now anyway) and waiting in high hopes that in six months we will find ourselves planted firm in our final destination. 


There will be plenty to do over the summer with our new project, but I'm really looking forward mostly to spending time, and living with, one of the greatest people I know. My mom.

I grew up in this house and lived here for 20 years. When Justin and I decided (or rather we had no choice really) to live with my mom for the next few months, I wasn't thinking about all the memories that would surface when we pulled into the familiar driveway, and entered through the familiar back door. The house smells the same. My room looks the same. Heck I still have A+J carved in my wall closet, and a few mentions from my grade school/junior high years.  And then I remembered........the last stretch of time spent here, was when my dad was sent home on hospice to finish out the last four weeks of his life. I can still picture him set up by the living room window, talking with friends and family, sharing his final words, and humbly waiting for the new life ahead of him.


It's sort of bittersweet. Our family pulled together during a time of loss. And this home was our "mourning grounds" while we waited for dads final breath. We all took shifts feeding and nursing my dad to make him as comfortable as possible. I was thinking "it wasn't all that long ago that dad was doing just the same for us kids".  As I look up now from this screen I stare out that very same window my dad looked through for days. The flowering cherry tree sprouts it's blossoms, and the sun, nearly blinding, warms every bit of my soul. I wonder what his thoughts were. If he had any regrets. And how life must have seemed so short as his last days came so quickly. 

What I do know is he and my mom made this a place of security. A place of growth and vitality. A place of rest. A place called home. 

I feel honored to be back under this shelter of life, love, and loss. And while we are only passing through, we're passing through with purpose and direction. With hardship and pain. With laughter and joy.


For now......


We share the same bathroom, living room, dinning room, laundry room, and lets not forget the most important......


The same kitchen.

And hopefully making a whole new set of memories to last and take with us.