Earthquake!

So there was an earthquake on the east coast of the USA yesterday. My sister lives in Virginia and said it was pretty scary for her and her little ones--things fell off shelves and they had just all gathered under the dining room table when the shaking stopped. Friends of mine in Pennsylvania and New Hampshire said they felt it too. A 5.9 is a pretty good size. I remember an earthquake in Seattle 9 or 10 years ago that was about that size, and I felt it where I was in college in Ellensburg  (110 miles away). It made the lights swing and they closed several buildings on campus for several hours while they inspected them for structural damage. I remember that being unnerving.
Prior to that I remember one other earthquake. I was 13 or 14 and I was babysitting and the whole house started swaying. It scared me for a minute until I realized that it was just an earthquake... I don't remember how big it was, but there was no damage. I called my dad and he made the excellent point that aftershocks tend to be smaller than the initial quake, and I calmed down and was ok.

When we moved to Homer two years ago I learned what it means to be totally unphased by earthquakes. We had been there just a few weeks when one afternoon things started to shake. At first I thought it was our dryer, because it could get a pretty good vibration going on through the house...but the dryer wasn't running. By the time I realized it was an earthquake it was over. I hurried to the other room where my then 2-years-old Bear was playing serenely. I asked if he was ok. He said yes. I asked if he felt the shaking. He looked at me like I was asking about quantum physics. Alrighty then!
Over the next few months I learned that we would get earthquakes several times a week--sometimes several times a day--and that every 6-8 weeks one would be a 3 or 4 or 5 and I would feel it. I learned how to guess at how big they were (and I got fairly good too--I'd put my guess on my facebook, and then ten minutes later go look it up, and I was usually within 0.2 or so!) I also learned that familiarity breeds contempt, or, at least, apathy, because not one of my kids has ever seemed the least bit phased by all these earthquakes. And, I confess, at this point, neither am I. If nothing even falls off a shelf, well, I just hop on facebook and make my prediction...
Of course, here in Kotzebue we are off the ring of fire (for the first time in my life I live in a non-earthquake zone!), so perhaps I'll re-sensitize to them. Who knows. Here I think we are probably more likely to see a polar bear in downtown than to feel an earthquake. (I'll be sure to let you know if that happens.)

But back to the Virginia quake, KSL News (in Utah) made sure to let us all know that four spires broke off the top of the Mormon temple.
AND, in case you haven't heard yet, there are some conflicting opinions about the causes of the shaking...

It has been determined that the epicenter of the Va earthquake was in a graveyard just outside of DC. The cause appears to be all of our Founding Fathers rolling over in their graves.


The President has just confirmed that the DC earthquake yesterday occurred on a rare and obscure fault-line, apparently known as "Bush's Fault."

Michelle Bachmann has promised to keep future quakes at 2.9.

The president wanted it to be a 3.6, but the Republicans said it needed to be a 6.0, so they compromised.

It wasn't an earthquake. It was a 14.6 Trillion dollar check bouncing.

...got any more for me?

Letters

The earliest letter I had from my cousin was when she was in second grade, so I must have been about 6 myself. Those early exchanges consisted of so few sentences that they probably scarcely justified a stamp (even though it was only 25cents!).
When I was 7, her family visited ours, and I remember spending half the week creating a secret language together which we subsequently used in our letters.
We wrote regularly--usually exchanging every month or so--until we both got to college. During high school our letters regularly reached 2-3 full pages (mine handwritten on college-ruled paper, hers typed). In college the letters slowed, and gradually transferred to sporadic emailing. But for over a decade we had written regularly.


By middle school I had two other pen-pals as well, and while the letter exchanges with them were never as frequent as with my cousin, we still wrote for years.


In high school I began corresponding with another cousin. He was my first male correspondent, and I don't know if it was a product of age or maturity or what, but we were both shy and writing to each other not only gave us a source for mutual encouragement in that matter (and a resource for trying to begin to understand the opposite sex!), but also gave us a chance to get to know each other. We had always lived several states apart, and had never really gotten to know each other. Those letters continued sporadically though his foreign mission (those 80 cent stamps got expensive, not to mention the slow transit time for international mail).

Through high school and college I kept a journal too. A lengthy, rambling, emotionally volatile thing. I still have those volumes, though I'm not certain what good they are doing me. I shared them with my husband when we were engaged, but he didn't get very far through them...they are just too loooong.


While I was in college I wrote faithfully for over a year to a dear friend on his mission. He was serving within the United States, and we exchanged letters weekly. The letters were long, often several typewritten pages. I remember perfuming one so that he could brag to his companion about it. My roommate was also writing to a missionary, but he did not write nearly so often, and I often hid my letters from her to spare here feelings because she always got depressed that I got more (and better) letters than she did. This missionary and I had started as just friends, but over the months and letter by letter we became very close. The timing was such that I ended up getting engaged before he came home, but had I not, I am sure I'd have dated him when he got home, and I would likely have married him.

My husband and I met online, and for 8 or 9 months we had a long-distance relationship. Even the first two months of our engagement were long-distance. We had lots of late night phone calls and instant-messaging conversations, but we also wrote emails. 


I don't maintain very regular correspondence with anyone now. My family all emails each other fairly regularly. Each of my siblings has served foreign missions and been allowed the use of email, so there's a weekly email from whomever is on a mission, and both of my parents write most weeks. One of my sisters (or her husband) still sends a family email every week, just like when she was on the mission.


A lot of my thoughts end up on my blog now, rather than in personal letters or in a journal. But writing continues to be a regular part of my life. I am glad that it is so.☺

30 Days-Day 19

Day 19 - A picture of you when you were little.

How little? Is two weeks ok?

Too little?
Alright then, this is one of my favorite pictures of me. (oooo, cringe, don't look at the pants!!)

February 25, 1989

On February 24, 1989, a little seven-year-old girl sat in the corner of her parents' bedroom, waiting to see her sister be born. She had been waiting all day. The babysitter had taken her and her siblings away for several hours during the day with assurances that no, the baby would not be here for a while, they would not miss it. The little girl was nervous every minute that she was gone that everybody was wrong and that she WOULD miss it. She had been there for her brother's birth when she was three, but she really didn't remember anything except getting to hold a flashlight. Then another brother had come, but for some reason mommy and daddy had to leave in a van and she had to go with her sister and other brother to someone elses house for the night, and when she got home her brother was already born. All she really remembered of that was being asked whether she ever wet the bed before being settled in with her sister in someone's guest bed for the night. This time, she was not going to miss the birth!
I was not going to miss this one.
But babies like to take their time apparently. All the siblings were going to watch the baby come, but one by one they got sleepy and went off to bed. Just I remained. I was stubborn. More stubborn than my exhaustion. Two hours past bedtime...three... It was near midnight, and I don't remember feeling tired, but mom was tired and decided she was going to get into bed just for a little while. Dad and Grandma both promised me that they would come wake me when the baby was close to coming so that I could still be there. Frustrated and disappointed, I went downstairs and crawled into the hidabed with my sister (our bed having been given to Grandma).
As I snuggled in I realized how tired I really was. I suspect I would have dropped right off to sleep if, within minutes, I had not heard Grandma trying to hurry down the stairs on her arthritic knees "Jenni, come quick!"
I missed the birth. Apparently mom's laying on the waterbed was what it took to entice Amethyst to come earthside. I can't say I really blame her. I was miffed at missing her birth though...and by only five minutes!
Nine months later another sleep-deprived night saw Amy back out of this world. I missed most of that too. But if I missed her entrance and exit, I did not miss the months in between, and Amethyst was--is--a precious jewel in our family. Today would be her 22nd birthday.

my sister Amethyst

My mother has an amethyst necklace. I have long thought that maybe I'd like a piece of jewelry with amethyst myself, but I had never really pursued it because, while I like purple, it's not a color I've usually worn very much. However, my recent work with The Amethyst Network, and subsequent learning about the meanings and attributes of the stone, solidified my desire for a pair of amethyst earrings (I picked earrings because I wear them more than any other type of jewelry). Plus I have two purple shirts now. ☺

I had some Christmas gift money so I started looking around etsy, and found these Amethyst hearts.
They are perfect.

30 Days--Day 2

Day 02 - A picture of you and the person you have been close with for the longest.

My sister, 18 months younger than myself.

Arctic Homestead

When I was growing up, my mother always started off our homeschool day by reading to us. She read us biographies and historical fiction mostly, counting it toward our history studies. I think I was 8 or 9 when she read Tisha to us. It was about a young woman who took a job teaching school in rural Alaska in the early 1900s.
I was fascinated.
I guess that was really the beginning for me, of wanting to come to Alaska. I re-read the book a couple of times in my teenage years too. As I was finishing college, I was contemplating getting dual certification (Alaska and my then-homestate of Washington have a reciprocal certification agreement) and I was going to come teach for a year or two in the middle of nowhere in Alaska, save up my money, and then go back south and get married. I was going to do what Tisha did...only Tisha found a spouse up in Alaska and stayed...and, well, if that happened that was ok too.
Only I found a spouse before I got a chance to go to Alaska and get rich. So I stayed poor and got married, and I'm not sure whether Alaska was still on my radar or not...I certainly wasn't thinking about it in any concrete way. But less than 4 years into our marriage we had an opportunity to move our family to Alaska, and even though we had never made serious plans to do so, we both jumped at the opportunity. Sometimes, something is so in your blood that you don't have to talk about it. I hadn't realized that my husband felt the call of the wild too, but he did, and we came.
And when we got here, we realized that it was home.

In the early part of our marriage, we had talked about buying a little piece of land where we could have a big garden, some fruit trees, and maybe raise some chickens or something. Now that we have realized that Alaska is home--more particularly that this region is where we want to stay for the long term (employment permitting)--now we have begun researching what exactly will be involved in creating an independent, sustainable, mostly-off-grid homestead for our family in this area. We've been getting books from the library, and reading up on everything from yurts and earthbag homes to cob houses and underground dwellings. We're learning about building with logs and how to use passive solar. We plan on heating with wood and geothermal energy, and will probably have a sod roof. We're reading about wind and hydropower. We know we'll need to build a greenhouse for our fruit trees and some of our vegetables. We're studying up on breeds of chickens and sheep to find which ones are gentle with children, which ones are hearty in cold weather, and which ones are the best for eating (and eggs, and wool...) The more we talk about it, the more excited we become. We know we need to sell our house down south before we can buy land here, and we don't want to buy land until we have tenure with a school district, so as to avoid what happened last time we bought a house (getting laid off and not being able to find another job within commuting distance of the place we owned!) So this is a 5 year plan at least...but it is a plan, and we are doing our reading, and it's exciting every time we talk about it.
Lots of people talk about things, but if the last few years are anything to go by, we are not just talkers, we are doers. We are the people who hold hands, hold our breath, and just jump already.

Recently, a fellow Alaskan friend recommended the book Arctic Homestead by Norma Cobb. She was another jumper. She and her husband took their five small children and settled in the wilderness north of Fairbanks in the 1970s. I admit I am not that daring, I have no desire to be that far north. I'll stay on my very sub-arctic peninsula thank you...but reading her story was inspiring, and reminded me of the reasons why I want to live off the land, with the land, in the land...and why I want to do it here. (It was also a thoroughly delightful read, so whether you have a homesteader's mindset or not I recommend the book!)


I conclude with a post from the book that seems to capture the way I feel about living in Alaska.

"There was breathtaking beauty in the howling of the wolves, the glisten and sparkle of new snow beneath lights, the splendid aurora borealis that never failed to fill me with wonder. It was as though God hung the great curtains of fire to fill space with myriad colors of dancing forms and vast spears and shafts of light flashing from one horizon to the next in a dazzling display of His power and majesty."

Fulfillment

Jenni is very very grateful to be a mother; for the maturity and patience and laughs that come with parenting my boys, for the opportunity to adopt, for the empowering experience of giving birth, and for the fulfillment of watching my children grow and achieve. 
(My facebook status this morning~I've been posting things I'm grateful for every day leading up to Thanksgiving)

When I was a little girl, my sister and I used to play "baby." Other little girls may have played "house" but we played "baby." We started off by stuffing our dolls up our shirts and being pregnant for a while. Then we'd lay on our beds and give birth (because everyone gives birth laying on their own bed, right?! It's all we'd ever seen!) Then we would nurse our babies, use blankets to make slings to carry them around, change their (cloth) diapers, nurse them some more, and rock them to sleep in our little rocking chairs.
In other words, I have been looking forward to (and practicing) motherhood since I was too small to say the word.

Me with my dolly Polly, next to my mom holding my little sister.
We are 18 months apart, so I would have been about 2 in this photo.
Yes, I'm wearing a cloth diaper.

Through high school and college I looked forward to motherhood. My mother periodically reminded me to enjoy living in the season that I was in--to do what I wanted to do, because soon enough I would have a family to care for, and then it would not be my time anymore, but theirs. I did spend a lot of time focused on the future, but I did spend time on myself as well: I got a college degree and traveled to Europe among other things.
When I got married at 22, a toddler came with the package. (In fact, I started parenting him while we were still engaged--I stayed with him during the days while my then-fiance went to his college classes, rather than my finding a job and then our paying a babysitter.) So I never had that child-free 'newlywed' phase of  marriage. That has never bothered me, because motherhood was always what I wanted anyway, and I didn't mind the head start on it. Sometimes my husband has been saddened by missing that though, I think because he did have that phase with his first marriage, and he knows what we missed. He has expressed from time to time that he looks forward to our empty-nesting stage, when we will finally have time with just us.

Recently we've been talking about our family, and whether we will have more children. We have mixed feelings on this issue right now (and have not made a decision), but the possibility of being done having kids is on the table, and I am struggling with it. Sometimes I feel peace about the idea, but sometimes I feel a gaping hole inside, and I've realized that it's because I identify myself so completely as a 'mother' that I don't know what I will do with myself when that phase is over.
I realize that I have a while (although Wolf is 10!), and I know that I will still be a mother, no matter the age of our children. I know that there is a lot more to life than babies. But still, it's hard to think of letting this phase pass. Perhaps it's because biological motherhood did not come easily and so I treasure it an extra little bit? Perhaps it's because motherhood itself--both the physical processes of pregnancy, birthing, and breastfeeding, and also the emotional processes of raising my boys--fulfill and empower and complete me as nothing else ever has.
I have been thinking about this an extra lot this week, leading up to Eagle's first birthday (today!) and thinking back to his birth day and how it has affected my life. I know there are many ways to feel fulfilled, and I don't know that one is better than another. But I know that my experience of giving birth last year was transformative and climactic for me. I felt tuned-in to nature, to my body, to my soul, to God, to time, and to eternity. I learned to let go and let God, to surrender to the natural cycle of things, and felt all the more powerful for it. That experience has significantly affected and shaped me, my perceptions of life and spirituality, and my way of living. Motherhood in general--and that birth in specific--have made me who and what I am. Is it any wonder then when I say that I find my greatest fulfillment in motherhood?



And, for anyone who missed it last year, I just had to post this again (Happy Birthday Eagle!)

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

(I'll have party/cake pictures to post tomorrow or after the weekend)

Thinking of mom

We had probably been in town here for about 2 days when I first saw this establishment:


It immediately made me think of my mother, because she used to call us "starvin marvin" when we bellyached about dinner not being ready yet.
Then of course I began to think of the other things she used to call us, and thought I would make a post of it.
Helpless Hannah/Helpless Harry--someone whining about how hard something was, or asking someone else to do it, when they were entirely capable of doing it themselves.
Hungry Mungry--(admittedly stolen from Shel Silverstein) someone who ate more than expected, or ate rapidly...often what came after being a Starvin Marvin I suppose!

As I was thinking of this post I think I had more, but now I can't think of them. Perhaps my sister will remember some and comment (please!)
Do you have any others from your households?

The Greatest Gift I Ever Got

This summer my dad's family had a big reunion. My dad had put together an activity that involved asking questions (and collecting answers) from his parents and all his siblings, and then putting the unlabeled answers on a page and everyone trying to guess who had given which answer.
One of the questions was "What was the best gift you ever received from a family member?" Answers were varied of course, but of 9 responses, only two or three were purchased items. All the others were handmade or were actions instead of things, including "the letter I got from the kids on fathers day," "green needle-point diaper bag," "visits to my home," and "my better half." Great gifts are just not about the money.
They never have been.

When one of my brothers was about 6 or 7 he was given a little plastic marble run. It had about 20 pieces of track and a few connectors and a half dozen marbles. I'm sure it was not terribly expensive, but he enjoyed it. As the years passed, of course, he outgrew it. It sat on his shelf collecting dust until one year he decided to give it to our younger brother--who was then 6 or 7 himself. The younger brother also got several years of enjoyment out of it before it ended up on a back shelf. Two years ago my oldest son (age 7!) had expressed interest in a marble run, but we had been unable to find one we could afford. I happened to mention it to my then-teenage brother, and he said "I have one, it's getting old, but I would love to give it to him if you think he would like it..." So my brother passed the marble run along to my son, and yet another little boy found hours of amusement in this simple toy. Now Wolf is more interested in other things, and while he has not formally given the marble run to Bear, it is Bear who now plays with it almost daily. Some of the pieces are cracking, but the marbles run down the tracks as well as they ever did (and as loudly as they ever did too). ☺

Often we get caught up with the notion that a gift must be something purchased, something new, something fancy or hot-off-the-presses. The truth is that the best gifts are often things that are tried and true and yes, often used. When Wolf turned 7 we had gone to the trouble to get a somewhat expensive but (we thought) very exciting birthday gift for him. He was thrilled with it...until two minutes later when he opened something that Hubby had decided to wrap up at the last minute: a big baggie full of his 20-year-old plastic army men. Guess which toy has seen the most playtime?!

I remember one year when I was in my early teens and my little brother was 2 or 3. He was just learning about giving, and in the excitement of the holiday, as we watched the pile of gifts under the tree grow, he started asking for help wrapping up this or that to give to other family members. By the time Christmas Day rolled around he had a virtually empty toy box because he had wrapped almost every one of his toys (certainly all his favorites) to give to all of us. Of course none of us particularly wanted little teddy bears or trucks, but when we tried to sneak them back into his toy box he would get them out and bring them back to us "I gave this to you!" he'd announce. He missed his toys, but he really wanted to give to the people he loved. This is the kind of attitude that we hope to cultivate with our children. (Luckily for this little brother, his birthday was less than a month after Christmas, and we were able to wrap up all his toys and give them all back to him. He was very happy to have his favorite things back. ☺)

Since we've established our new Christmas gifting plan, I have been talking with the boys about what they want to give to the other family members (daddy will help them figure out things for me, but I tend to head up the gifts for everyone else--writing the wish lists and coordinating with grandmas--so I'm helping them with most gifts). I was talking with Bear one night, asking him what kinds of things he liked to play with, and he mentioned that he really liked "the blue lego motorcycle" (it's Wolf's, but Bear plays with it a lot). From the other side of the room I heard "ooooooo!" from Wolf...later, when I was talking with Wolf, he said "I think I will give Bear that blue motorcycle, and a guy to go on it."
I asked Wolf if he'd prefer to buy something for Bear (I'm subsidizing, so he certainly could). He said he'd rather give the blue motorcycle. That blue motorcycle is missing one of the handlebars, and it's nothing like new. In fact, it was my blue motorcycle loooong ago (I passed my bucket of legos along to Wolf a couple of years ago). The mainstream world would probably look upon that blue motorcycle as a poor gift indeed...but I think that Bear is going to love it.

What is the greatest gift I ever got? I'm not sure, but I don't think it was something off my wish list. Of course I appreciate getting things I need or want, but it's usually the things that weren't on my list that are the most touching. It might be the co-sleeper that Hubby built for me (since we couldn't afford to buy one and couldn't fit the crib beside the bed in our small bedroom). It might be the framed, hand-written note from my then-teenage sister "sisters by nature ~ friends by choice." Perhaps the plug-in l.e.d. nightlight of praying hands that my brother gave to me in college, and which now lights my children's bedroom, or my favorite candy bar (from that same brother) when we were both too little to afford anything bigger. Maybe it's the phrase my husband had engraved on the inside of my wedding ring (which was free at the store where we bought the rings). Maybe it's my mother's ring, which admittedly did cost some money, but has far more value in sentiment than in dollars. I still think the greatest gift I've ever given was the group gift my siblings gave to my parents two years ago. It also involved money, but was more about sentiment than funds.
I'm not saying that great gifts cannot be purchased items, just that the greatness of a gift is not correlated to its cost.

What are some great gifts you have gotten? Or given?