My Missionary Is Home!

I sigh a huge sigh of relief. Anthony has completed his two years of service to the Oregon Eugene Mission.

Thankfully, the mission office let us pick the Idaho Falls airport. Made a long day for Anthony, but with no other reason for the long trip to Salt Lake City, and having car sick children, the shorter distance made a pleasant trip for us.

He will be speaking in Sacrament meeting this Sunday. If you'd like the wheres and whens contact me. Also, feel free to come by the house this Sunday anytime after 2:30  to visit and chat.

She kissed him.

Not gonna happen again. Ha.

Look at that perfect hair.

It's SOOOOO great to have him home.

Music Monday~ And TED Talk Tuesday

She was twenty nine years old and pregnant with her fifth child, soon to be her first one born at home. For some reason, the pain of the upcoming labor and delivery was terrifying her. Why? She knew exactly what to expect. Maybe that's why. She knew exactly what to expect.

She was self-taught on the piano.  The first piano she ever owned was given to her free because her best friend was divorcing her husband who, her friend had discovered, was frequenting chat rooms. In a bad way. Well, that and the fact that the piano was in really bad shape.

She could hear how out of tune it was, but it was just enough in tune that she could still stand to play it. And play it she did. When she wasn't bathing babies, changing babies, fixing bottles, fixing meals, seeking time with her husband, or spending much needed time with friends, her fingers danced across the keys, her eyes scanned the notes, the challenge of placing her fingers on the correct keys resulting in beautiful compositions was just so much fun.

Once, on a rare visit, her father-in-law had given her a friendly challenge to learn to play with both hands. She most definitely was achieving that.

Where had she gotten that sheet music for that favorite piece of hers?

For hours and hours she played Sonata Quasi Una Fantasia. Did the unborn baby like it? Were the other childrens' souls affected by it as hers was? Could the neighbors hear?

Today, I present to you a version of Moonlight Sonata that my oldest daughter surprised me with. It contains its own surprise! Some of us love it. Some adamantly do not.What do you think?




Here is also a fun little presentation on why music is good for your brain. It's from TED.

Generational Genealogy~ Milton Sr. Where Have You Been?

Genealogy find:
Milton A Evans is my 3rd great grandfather. For you Selks it goes: Bonnie->Stella->Milton Jr->Milton.

For years I have been working on this puzzle: 
1870 Iowa census lists Milton with his family (Miltion Jr is 4)
1880 Iowa census Milton is not listed. Milton Jr is 14. Head of household is Sadie listed as Jr's sister. Aunt Susan and her children are listed in the household, but her husband Walter (Milton Sr's bro) is not listed. 
1890 most census records were destroyed in a fire.
1900 CO census we find Milton has been widowed twice. 

So, I wondered... What happened to those two brothers in 1880? Was there a war? Did they follow a gold rush? I searched and searched unsuccessfully. 

Today, I found the following (digging takes a long time!) Some of you will find this very interesting.

MILTON EVANS
A pioneer of 1876 in Colorado, and one of the first miners in what is now San Miguel county, where he has ever since been an active and prominent man deeply interested in all public affairs, and giving his time and attention freely to their proper management, Milton Evans, of Placerville, has witnessed the growth of the region from a wilderness practically unbroken save for the numerous mining camps which were opened in it from time to time, to its present prosperous and progressive condition blessed with all the elements and fruitful with the products of civilized and cultivated life.  He was born in Ohio on May 13, 1834, and is the son of James and Mary O. Evans.  He remained at home until he reached the age of twenty-one and received his education in the schools of his native county.  Then in 1856 he turned eagerly from the associations and scenes of his childhood, youth and early manhood to the inviting fields for enterprise in the farther West and moved to Iowa where he remained ten years engaged in farming.  In 1866 he crossed the plains with his own ox teams to Salt Lake city, and from there made a trip northward through Idaho and Montana, stopping for a time at Fort Benton.  He there took passage on a steamboat down the Missouri river to his former home in Iowa, an during the next eight or nine years was occupied in the grain and stock business.  In 1876 he came to Colorado and located in what is now San Miguel county, which later he helped to organize.  Here in the neighborhood of the present town of Telluride he engaged mining, being the first man to follow the industry in that section.  He was also an early prospector and miner where Ophir now stands, and was actively concerned in opening up the whole region to the hopes and the employments of men.  In 1877 he bought an interest in the Nevada Mining Company, soon after selling a part of his stock for seven thousand, five hundred dollars.  He has since been offered forty thousand dollars for the rest of his stock in this company, but has refused to sell and still owns it and has charge of the property.  He also has interests in other mines in this locality, and has shipped ore from ten of them.  In 1890 he settled at Placerville, and here he has charge of the Copper Basin Mining Company and the Placerville Gold and Copper Mining Company.  At the same time, while looking out for his own interests and building up his own fortunes, he has been active and zealous in promoting the welfare of the section and aiding in its progress and development.  He was influential in organizing the county and served as one of its first county commissioners, holding the office eight years.  For many years he has belonged to the order of Odd Fellows and has been active and influential in its work and history.  He was married in 1856 before leaving Ohio, to Miss Eliza Brown, a native of Virginia, who died in 1878 in Iowa, leaving four children, James W., Herbert C., Milton A. and Sarah.  The sons live in San Miguel county, Colorado, and the daughter is a resident of Minneapolis.  He was married a second time in 1884, being united on this occasion to Miss Nellie Steele, a native of New York, the wedding occurring at Durango, this state.  She died in 1887, leaving no children. [Source: Progressive Men of Western Colorado, Publ 1905. Transcribed by Nancy Overlander]
Here is the link for this source http://genealogytrails.com/colo/sanmiguel/bios.html

So, here is what I figure. While Milton went off setting up mining businesses starting 1876, his family stayed in Iowa. This says in '77 he was buying into Nevada Mining Co, whether or not that is actually in Nevada I don't know yet. But, his wife Eliza dies in 1878. Perhaps he was not even home when it happened? If not, I imagine that was hard on him, as well as the rest of his family. Five years after she dies he marries Nellie in Colorado. He is widowed again after three years with her.  By 1890 he has settled with all the children in Placerville, CO. This leads to more questions, but at least it gives a strong possibility as to why neither Milton or Eliza were with their children in the 1880 census. Milton was off conquering the west and Eliza had passed on. 

So, next puzzle. U.S. Find a Grave has a note saying that in 1971 the Girl Scouts made a list of burials by looking at headstones in what is now the abandoned (sad!) Bloomington cemetery in Milton's former home town in Ames, Story County, Iowa. (There are no photos.) They list Eliza as well as two not formerly recognized short-lived babies and our good old Milton. Did he really go back to Iowa to die? And the babies... do they really belong to this couple? Here's one clue. In the above narrative, Milton spent time in Fort Benton. One of the babies was named Benton Evans 1863-1864. What do you think?

My brain is hurting.

One more interesting thing about the page where I found this narrative. Directly after Milton's was the following. I have no idea if he's related to our Galloways:

JOHN R. GALLOWAY.
John R. Galloway, a member of the mercantile firm of Galloway Brothers, of Norwood, San Miguel county, one of the largest and most successful establishments of its kind in this part of the state, was born in Hancock county, Illinois, on March 16, 1865, and is the son of the late Hon. James P. and Minerva C. [Wade] Galloway, the former a native of St. Louis, Missouri, and the latter of Hancock county, Illinois.  The father was reared in Iowa, and after he grew to manhood engaged in business in Illinois and Missouri until 1873, when he moved with his family to Colorado, and turned his attention to raising stock on an expansive scale.  Later he moved to Hinsdale county, and in 1883 came to Paradox valley, where he remained until his death, in February, 1897.  He was one of the pioneer stock men in this part of the country, and one of the leaders of thought and action in public affairs, being always at the front of every good enterprise for the improvement of the county, and serving it people with fidelity and ability in the state senate for a time.  His widow now resides at Pueblo.  Their offspring number seven:  L. Wood Galloway, the other member of the firm of Galloway Brothers; John R., the subject of this sketch; Gordon, a prominent stock man living one mile west of Norwood; Nino, the wife of Albert Neal, of Montrose; Jessie, the wife of A. Herendon, two miles from Norwood; and James P. and Eugene, residents of Norwood.  John R. Galloway came with his parents and the rest of the family as it was then to Colorado in 1873, when he was eight years old.  Here he grew to man’s estate and received the greater part of his education.  After leaving school he engaged in the stock industry until 1899, when he came to Norwood and, in partnership with his brother, L. Wood Galloway, started the business which they are now conducting.  They have a fine two-story business block equipped with every modern device for the convenient and successful management of their business, and carry a large and varied stock of general merchandise which is selected with special reference to the needs of the community and kept up-to-date in every particular.  It includes all kinds of farm machinery, along with other commodities, and the establishment is one of the leading ones in the county, laying under tribute to its trade a large extent of the surrounding country.  Mr. Galloway is active and progressive in public affairs, and is now rendering the county excellent service as a member of the board of county commissioners. He is a valued and energetic member of the Masonic fraternity, the Odd Fellows and the order of the Elks.  At Centralia, Illinois, on May 8, 1888, he married Miss Hettie Warren, a native of that place.  They have four children, John W., Minerva, James B. and Enon.  Accurate and successful in all the elements of his extensive business operations, elevated in the character of his citizenship, stern and unyielding in his integrity, and endowed with rare social qualities, Mr. Galloway is well worthy of the esteem in which he is held and the place he has won by his merit as one of the most prominent and representative men in the county.[Source: Progressive Men of Western Colorado, Publ 1905. Transcribed by Marilyn Clore]
 
Interesting coincidence, eh???

Practicing Perfection

Harrison's new thing is folding things "professionally."

Mine have to be folded in thirds. 

He's such a funny kid. 

Memo of My Missionary

Sorry I have not kept you guys up on our missionary. He spent almost the entire time in southern Oregon. For his last month, he was transferred up north which is where my dad lives! 

This is my grandma Suzie. She and I were roommates when Anthony was 1-4 years old. 

He was her little buddy. At night he would sit on the arm of her upholstered rocking chair, right next to her, watching TV. She would call out to me from her room because he fell asleep and she was so tiny she could never carry him. 

Gran made him ramen noodles every day. She would say she was so jealous of his curls cuz she had to pay lots of money to have curls like that. 

Suzie has been under the growing effects of dementia for several years so we wondered if she would remember Anthony and he said she did! Gran is in good health and being well loved and looked after by my dad and a couple of "granny sitters." 

I'm so thankful that Anthony, and Gran, and my dad got this chance to spend time together. 

Two more weeks and we meet Elder Galloway at the airport!

Foodie Friday~ 2X Baked Taters

Decades ago I watched a friend make twice baked potatoes, but when I tried, it turned out horrible. I had cut the potatoes in half so they weren't stable. They were dry with little flavor. I tried a couple more times with different recipes and none ever became keepers. So, one day I decided I'm gonna stop trying to copy anyone else. I just thought my way through it and created a twice baked potato that we LOVE. 

They go great with chicken that's been simmered in bbq sauce. The sauce really compliments the potatoes, surprisingly. I have also made these for a going away party once where I let ppl pick their "add-ins" like mushrooms or broccoli or chicken or bacon. The potato was the meal with finger food sides. 

Anyway, when I'm crunched for time, I will "bake" the potatoes in the microwave first while I get the chicken cooking. Then, put them in a 375* oven to crisp up the skins for ten or fifteen minutes while I sauté the veggies. 

So, for seven small potatoes, finely mince one stalk of celery and half a smallish onion. Sauté this in butter till they're soft.  

When you cut the tops off the once baked potatoes, just do an oval right off the top, enough that you can easily get a spoon in to scrape it all out. Be careful not to gouge holes in the skin! I have done this many times and patched it with pieces from the tops.  

Into your bowl of potato innards, add the veggies, 1-1/2 to 2 cups grated cheese, about 3/4 tsp salt, about 1/3 cup of ranch dressing, and about 1/4 cup of milk.

When adding milk, I go for a mashed potato consistency. Stir it all up really, really well. Don't be afraid of lumps. Use your small scraping spoon to cram the innards back into the skins. Press it into the ends, fill up every bit of space. 

You will have a lot more than will fit in the skins. I just dollop the extra on top of each potato. Put them back in your 375* oven for ten to fifteen, basically to get them hot again. 

As I said, you could put anything in these. That one piece of chicken left over from last night. That half cup of broccoli that no one will ever eat. You know, whatever. 

Tell me if you try this!

Music Monday~ The House That Built Me

My dad was in the Air Force which meant we moved a lot. When we left Guam I was seven. We went straight to Minot, North Dakota where I used my moon boots to skate on the streets. I made snowmen taller than me. I dug a snow shelter under a bush right by the front door of our standard issue base accommodation. My mother went to the neighbor's across the street and made a huge seal out of snow. Yes, a seal.

In the summer, I played in the gutters flowing with water. We flew kites in the open field behind our house. I tried and failed at swimming lessons. We did target practice down at the junk yard. My dad walked me to a house down around the corner once. The man who lived there built bikes from parts he gathered. I finally got my "BMX" bike. I stole a playing card from my mom's deck (she loved solitaire) to attach to my bike frame. The wooden clothes-pin held it in place while it clicked against the spokes which sounded to my mind just like the engine of my dad's dirt bikes. Somehow, that sound propelled me faster and faster.

Then, with a little sister in tow, we moved to England. Our first home was a temporary one called the Bird in Hand motel. There were lots of other American kids there, too. I remember the cold on my bare feet as I ran around playing. I remember the other mothers' concern because I was barefoot. We dined in a fancy dining room with white cloths on the tables. At nine years old I met there a mushroom soup that is forever embedded in my memory. I would sprinkle tons of pepper in it and slurp up every drop.

My dad then took assignments at every AF base in southern England.  We lived on base only once, and in my memory, for only one season. Summer. It was in this Lakenheath neighborhood where I read To Kill a Mockingbird. I imagined my very neighborhood to be Scout's. Placing the characters in their geographical proprietary.

A bunch of us kids would be allowed out late to play hide-n-seek in the shadows created by the street lights. I played my album single of Lucille on my little record player. I stole Barbie clothes from a neighbor and I didn't even own Barbies.

Then, we lived in English houses. One was very cold, with tiny bedrooms, a narrow spiral stairway, and an actual thatched roof. Did my mother love it? Did she mind that the bathroom was split between each end of the tiny and very blue kitchen?

Our last home in England was a brick row home. Here, my sister attended primary school and started speaking with a British accent. Here, I brought my black American best friends to sleep over. I angrily chased the boys who never came very close when they made their rude racial remarks.

Here, I made a British best friend. There, I left my British best friend. And all the others.

The song I share with you today is what I call a "modern" country song to distinguish this type of country music from Country & Western, which I love. Modern country? Ehh. Occasionally, a modern country song will come along that grips my heart and forces tears out of my eyes.

Here is one such song.

When we lived in the green cottage, you know the one. It used to be uninhabitable, unloved, unwanted, and we made it lovable again. We restored that cottage so that it could once again be warm, inviting, full of life and love. Rylee came to me one day, as she frequently does, and said, "Can I show you a song?"

We watched the video. I barely kept back the tears. I watched it again and again.

Here are my thoughts when I listen to this song.

I didn't have one home. I had many. So, what built me? My mama. My dad. My little sister.

Mama's constant experimenting in the kitchen. Dad's off-roading, and get-togethers with friends. Inexpensive crafting projects to decorate the house. Fish tanks containing octopi, or frogs, or bright tropical fish.

Two parents who had no idea what struggles I was going to put them through. Two parents who had to make decisions from the hip because, what did they know? Now that I'm a mom, I see that I created a brokenness not only inside myself, but also inside my parents' hearts. I apologize to my dad every now and then. I think he has forgiven me.

I don't need to return to any home for healing. There are no walls on this Earth that can help me make sense of my past.

My healing has come from my Heavenly Parents.

I never forgot who I was. I never KNEW who I was. In each home where we lived, my parents gave me love. They tried to guide me. But, there was something they couldn't give me.

That came from my Heavenly Parents.

Human beings are notorious for trying to "find" themselves in the things of this world. Well, guess what? You came from God. You know what that means? That means that the place you're trying to return to? The house that built you? It's your Heavenly home.

God wants you to be whole. He is the memory that you're seeking. You left home, you moved on, you forgot who you were. Trust me when I tell you that Father wants you to find your way home.


(Sorry if there's an ad. Ack.)