Small Town Livin'

Even though we have been here for nearly two years now, every once in awhile it dawns upon us anew that we live in a relatively small community. Things like the fact that the phone book for our entire area is less than an inch thick and wire bound. (And our zip code takes up two pages of 12 pt, two column, nicely spaced type) And that there is an annual contest the residents enter for the cover picture of the book.

I thought I might share some small-town culture with you all:
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Take the town I work for as an example. There are 112 residents. Each month the city council holds a meeting where 5 council members, the mayor, myself and the sheriff show up. The sheriff gives a monthly report detailing the goings-on for the previous month. Last month's report had three items:

• 22 documented business checks (read:drove by the only bar in town)
• 1 ATV complaint
• 1 speeding nuisance, warning issued

Mind you, this is an entire month's worth of police activity for the town. The previous month was the same but insert "cat complaint" for "ATV complaint."(I know, don't ask) This report is always followed by intense interrogation from the council members: "Who was the ATV complaint issued by?" "What happened? Were tickets issued?" One member in particular is always quite disgruntled if he was left out of the loop on something (he should always know before the meetings! Where had the information chain broken down?) Only in a small town could a three item list be discussed for 15 minutes of a 45 minute council meeting.

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I haven't written much about Phil's work. He started working with two other guys from a small town just North of us. My favorite part (besides the paychecks, of course) is that without fail, every Monday, the "guys" start their day at the community breakfast. And the wives and kids are expected to come.

This community breakfast thing is the neatest thing since sliced bread. Before I explain, the most important part about this is that it's all volunteer-driven. Donations are the only form of accepted payment, and they are made via a basket on the drink table. The food consists of made-to-order omelets, pancakes, sausage, homemade cinnamon rolls (by local women each week) biscuits and gravy, bagels with various spreads and fruit. Of course, coffee is available for those of us who don't function without it. Every Monday at 6am volunteers show up to serve whoever can make it. People file in and out and sit around big tables. The little place looks like an old diner, and though it sits empty throughout the week it comes to life to bring the community together.

The "guys" have a ritual of meeting at this breakfast with their families, where we all sit and catch up. I get to hear about what their kids are doing in school or at the local fair, and also learn what is on the work docket for the week.

We are obviously new faces to this bunch of people - they have been doing this for years and we are only a mere 6 months into it. But slowly, we meet people and they ask us where we live, what we are doing, etc. A gentleman we met the first day told us that his "honeymoon cottage" used to be right down the road from our house (he is much older than us). It has been burned down for years now, but "oh, back in the day." Every once in awhile he will sit down and tell us stories about the people who used to live in our house or his house.

He can remember one year they had an awful ice storm much like the one we had this year. The power was out for ten days, and they had just bought a new batch of chicks when the ice storm hit. In order to save the little chickens they brought them into the kitchen, spread out newspapers on the ground, and stacked milk cartons around them to keep them corraled. That way the chicks could huddle under the wood stove to keep warm.

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At the local hardware store:

Owner: Will that be all?

Phil: Yep, I think that'll do me. Hopefully!

Owner: Will this be cash or charge?

Phil: Charge. (Reaching for his wallet, intending to pull out debit card.)

Owner: Hmm, I don't think we have an account set up for you yet! We'll have to take care of that.

She pulls out a notebook and inserts a page in the "G" section, noting his name. Then, on the top line writes in his purchase and a "charge" of $22. The only other time I have personally seen this done was on Little House on the Prairie when Laura sold eggs to the store keeper and she noted it down in the store's ledger.

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For my small town, we bank at a small branch one twon West of us. I went in when I first became city clerk and gave them my address, signature, etc. for security reasons. All the statements and such come to the city hall where I pick up mail once a week or so. I then can deposit any checks or other funds by dropping by the bank. One month I had written myself a note on the outside of my deposit envelope that said only

*New deposit book

I knew that I would forget if I didn't write it down. When I got to the bank that day, though, it was already closed (they are only open until 3!). Anyhow, I slipped the envelope into the night deposit box and decided to wait one more month before getting a new deposit book.

Three days later in my home mailbox was a thick envelope from the bank that held a new deposit book for the city. Talk about service.

Let's face it

Right now, its all about the boys.

But there are other things going on, too. Chicken Palace is being built and the "girls" have started giving us eggs as a nice encouragement to finish their new home.

Also, we are still picking GOBS of tomatoes and working on various other household projects.

A more "farmy" post with updates regarding the other goings-on will be coming soon.

David Michael

Saturday night at 10:31pm we welcomed David Michael into our family. He weighed 8lbs and 5oz, 21 inches long, and came a little over a week early.

About a week ago we were still in a debate over whether to name him David or Derek (Phil thought that David went with dark hair, Derek with light) but when he was born (and still now) we couldn't quite tell what color it will be. So we went with David - both because of King David of the bible and Davey Crocket, King of the Wild Frontier. His middle name was set for either first name, and that comes from our dear aviation-loving friend in Washington, because we hope our son, like his namesake, will cultivate traits of honesty, humility, love, and a passion for Christ.

Next to my boisterous, full of life two and a half year old, David sleeps and cuddles and seems like such a straightforward, easy baby. I wonder how much of that is because he IS an easy baby, and how much of it is because I have such contrast to the bouncing ball of energy that is my oldest.

We brought him home on Monday. Ryan has been very attentive to his little brother. Each time David squeaks Ryan perks up, lets out a little gasp, and exclaims "baby cryin!" or "baby mad". Then, more often than not, he will run over to see what he can do.

He shakes his hand and asks to carry him quite a bit. A few minutes after we came home Monday Ryan came over to try and take David from me (it is HIS brother, after all). I explained that David needed to eat before Ryan could hold him. Immediately Ryan ran into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a tupperware container of leftover corn. He carried it quickly to the table and put it in front of one of the chairs. Come on kid, let's get eatin, then!

So very helpful.

Mostly though, in between running and jumping and playing and squealing and coloring he will stop for a second or two, softly rub David's head with his hand. And then it's off running again.

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We have really been working on a routine with Ryan - setting predictable things so that as David weaves his way into our lives, there are still certain constants Ryan can count on. This also makes it easier to transition from one thing to another (play to lunch, lunch to nap).

But two-year-olds are quick. They catch on and then throw in their own spin. For example, routine looks like this:

Lunch

Treat (popsicle, fudgesicle, etc)

Two stories

Nap

For a long time, this worked quite smoothly, and when someone suggested that he find two stories to read, he would bound over to the bookshelf and start choosing. However, now that he has started to catch on, he will have a conversation:

T: Ryan, would you like to choose two stories to read? (Phew, naptime soon)

R: Go ni-night? (Look at how well I understand our routines, mom!)

T: Yep! Right after our stories.(with enthusiasm- sleeping is FUN!)

R: Um...Nope. No stories. (Not bratty or tantrum-like, but light, innocent, and with an air of "no thanks, mom, I'm a workin!")

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Calli: Ryan, will you help Grandma make dinner? What should we make?

Ryan: Um...'mores.

Because every good meal is made of smores.

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Our canning list is getting smaller- only tomatoes are left before Fall canning (applesauce, apple pie filling, and pears). This year I was intent on having gobs of tomatoes- both because I love them and because they are expensive to buy in large quantities if you want quality. They aren't difficult to grow, and so we bought and planted 8 regular tomato plants and two of the salad tomato plants. They have started coming on in abundance now and today we will can about a laundry-basket's worth. And there are more to come. Mmm.

Ryan LOVES tomatoes. After helping to pick one day he explained to Neighbor Mike that he "piked 'amatoes".

Oh really? What color were they?

Um, NOT a-green.

Oh, the training has gone well! (Although, before Kindergarten we might have to learn that Red has it's own name.)

37 Weeks and Counting

Silence.
Then, all of the sudden Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump. Little feet running down the upstairs hallway, pounding on the hardwood floor.
He runs everywhere now, I think to myself.
"MAMA! I GO NY- Night!" he yells triumphantly from the top of the stairs.
"Good job!" I reply, because even though we both know he had no choice, he makes this remark with such enthusiasm that you would think he had just built a small castle from toothpicks in his room. I have to respond with equal enthusiasm.
I hear his footsteps climb steadily down the stairs. He comes into sight at the landing.
"MAMA! I get DOWN!" He emphasizes "down" because we both know this is the true accomplishment. A big boy bed means he can get DOWN whenever he wants. No need to wait on mom to come and get him out of the crib.
He is growing up.
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The garden is putting on fruit and veggies, peaches and corn are in season. I will be 38 weeks pregnant on Monday. We have been so busy that even though I am half-way through my 9th month I have yet to count down a day. So far, my mom-in-law and I have put up:
31 pints of salsa
22 quarts of frozen onions
41 quarts of frozen corn
23 pints of green beans
8 pints of jalapeno peppers (sliced)
29 half-pints of apricot jam
23 quarts of apricot sauce

Today I hope to get to the pepper jam we love so much, as well. We have also cleaned and re-organized my canning room and the laundry room downstairs. Phew. I am ready for baby to get here (hey, who wants to wait for a small bundle of happiness like a baby?) and at the same time I am really enjoying making such progress on my goals and prep for winter. We have a lot of "winterizing" we would like to do before the chill sets in, and having a new little one will make that more difficult.

I suppose I will just take it a day at a time...giving it to God on when He wants to give us our little man.

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I am an Auntie all over again, too! My sister had her little girl Chloe Elizabeth last Thursday (which makes her one week and two days old today). It is striking to me how different she is even from Ryan- aside from her dark complexion and hair, her arms and legs sprawl out as she sleeps (for the first month Ryan's were curled close in) and she sleeps...a LOT (which, truly, just makes her my sister's kid.)

In the hospital my sister called me and explained that this was indeed her baby. 'Uh huh..." I replied. "Well, see, if I put her on the hard bed that the hospital provides, she will only sleep like 5 minutes. But if she is laying on my lap on a pillow cuddled in a soft blanket next to me, she will sleep forever."

And this makes her my sister's baby because Krissy was one who, growing up, had a pillow-top mattress, a feather bed on top of that, 6 pillows of varying softness, one body pillow, and a light, soft feather comforter. She was so protective of her bed setup that she knew if I tried to switch out one of my pillows for one of hers.

I slept on my futon with a quilt and some sheets.

A creature who loves comfort she truly is. Baby is beautiful and sleeps more than any new mom deserves. She came just a few days before her due date and was 8lbs 2oz. Fun!

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I also became an extended Auntie to a baby Levi Anderson, who is the new son of our good friends Tycen and Sonja (you may have seen them comment on here before). Levi decided he really wasn't willing to miss the family photo his mom painstakingly arranged, and came into this world at 33 and a half weeks (might I add, on Family Photo day!).

He is a trooper, and though most babies require lots of intervention at this early age, he has really defied the odds, breathing on his own right from the start. He is so teensie and perfect with adorable chubby cheeks.

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All of these babies are really just making me excited for my own to come. Ryan sees all of the little baby stuff around and knows that it belongs to "baby brover". His two bears:a coast guard bear (from Uncle Eric) and his small brown bear (from Grandpa Johnson) sleep consistently under the co-sleeper in the little zippered compartment. His giraffe spends a lot of time rocking to music in the swing.

I just hope that we can explain that once baby is here...you know...the giraffe might have to scoot over a bit.