Monday, June 29, 2015

Rilla, More Accurate

Yes, yesterday's post gives an inaccurate impression of Rilla who is usually more like this. She's our very spunky, spirited, independent girl! So here you go Mommy (who left a comment yesterday). Rilla in action.

 

And how many times did I ask her to run to the other side of the yard and back? And yes that's a little stick in her hand. Didn't your mother ever tell you to "Not run with that Pencil, stick, scissors, or other 'pokey' thing in your hand! Your going to put your eye out if you fall!" Ha! What kind of grandma am I?? ( In my defense, it was just a wimpy twig, really.)


Sunday, June 28, 2015

Friday, June 19, 2015

To My Dad

Growing up I had a sense, as every child may (or should ), that my dad and I had a special, unique, bond. After all I was the only girl and the baby to boot! The picture record though, doesn't seem to reflect that. We always did things as a family; my two brothers, my Mom and Dad and me. Photos of our travels, of my parents ministry, the pictures repeatedly shown as the "missionary slide show" to supporting churches, always included all of us kids, or the whole family sometime posing for a prayer card, or doing something interesting in one of the countries we lived in over the years. Consequently my mind replays those slides as if they were an old familiar movie. I was pretty sure I'd seen ALL the old pictures.

Then I found this one. It has a silly caption on the back, added by Dad in his later years I'm thinking.
"Cheri walking her Dad." "Taken in (___?  I can't read the name) Spain."
And it comes as a very special note at a special time. This picture, found in a random box that got home with me after his funeral, to remind me that I may have had my Dad wrapped around my little finger after all.

Dad,I'll love and miss you all my days.

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Garden Observations

A poor life this if, full of care, we have no time to stand and stare. ~  William Henry Davies ~ 




Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Sisters



I made this bonnet yesterday out of the 
last knitted item, a wash cloth, which I found
in my Mom's knitting basket.
These cloths were the easiest thing for her to make

 after she developed arthritis in her hands.
She
made them in every color of the rainbow.

We all have them to match our kitchens, but this last one was pure white and the only finished thing in the bag. So yesterday it took the shape of this simple little bonnet for Sweden. Mom would be so tickled that her newest Great Grandchild {who gets her name for my Mom's own parents' country of origin} got to wear it, if only this once, 

for posterity.