TMI? You Be the Judge

Today, I am paying homage to a previous blog written by my husband Chuck, on his 55th birthday: A Double Nickel's Worth of Facts about Chuck. He asked me to follow up with a list of my own. If you have the curiosity, and the stamina, you are welcome to peruse these yourself, but mostly, this is for Chuck.

1. Born in Chicago, Illinois, I spent all of my childhood in Virginia, and all of my adulthood in Utah, until my life came full circle, and I found myself living in Illinois last December 24, when I flew to Chicago to marry Charles Bruce Bennorth. I just love A Good Circle Story

Tahquamenon Falls, Upper Peninsula, Michigan

2. Fall is the most wonderful season of all. A year ago, Chuck and I met in the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, and this fall, Chuck took me to Upper Peninsula Michigan to enjoy Mackinac Island and the fall colors of Michigan and Wisconsin.

During a three-week run of no-school snow days during Virginia's icy winter in 1978, I believe.

3. There is nothing quite as exciting as a snow day. When I was a kid, we gathered around the kitchen table in Shipman, Virginia, listening to the radio during breakfast during any sign of snow, praying for a snow day. In my 31 years of teaching in Utah, I only had ONE day off from school for a declared snow day, and the snow all melted, and we didn't even get to play in it. Now that I am retired, I can't help but wish for snow days because Chuck gets to work from home. Yahoo!

4. I am deaf in my left ear. "Huh?" was probably the word I uttered most as a child. I miss the punchlines of most jokes, and important information on TV, unless the closed-captioning is on. I tend to sit on Chuck's left side so I can hear him better, and I rely on reading lips to fill in the gaps.

5. Speaking of TV, I don't own one in Utah, and the television Chuck and I have has only been on in my presence about four times this year. We watch Dr. Who with Zack, and that's about it. When the Nielson Ratings TV company came to my house in Joseph to sign me up for their program, they weren't quite sure what to do with me. There is only a TV at the house when Bridger wants to play video games. They left me with contact information, in case I ever want to be a normal person with a TV.

6. Downton Abbey is a different story. I have watched every single episode of Downton Abbey on my laptop.

7. My favorite drink is water, followed by coffee. I take my first cup of coffee with half and half, and the second one also has a scant spoon of stevia added to it. My favorite soda has changed nearly every year, but this year, I have essentially given up my Diet Dr. Pepper in an effort to eat and drink healthier. I miss it, but not as much as I thought I would.

8. This year I made it 23 days into the Whole 30 program, and had to stop when I was sick for a week. I was amazed that I could give up white sugar and flour, dairy, and processed foods for that long, but my results were impressive, for only three weeks. I couldn't believe that I could eat fats (avocado, coconut oil, and nuts) at every meal, and still lose fat.

9. The longest I have gone without any of my trigger foods is 30 days. I went from October 19 - November 18, 2015 without any white sugar, cookies, ice cream, brownies or cake. On my birthday, Chuck and I split a small piece of birthday cake, and I sent the rest of the cake to work with him to share with coworkers. (My birthday gift to myself was losing the 10 pounds I gained after Chuck and I got married.)

10. I'm not much of a jewelry wearer.  I wear earrings if we're going out. My favorite pieces are my diamond ring and wedding ring, and my white agate necklace Chuck chose for my wedding gift, and an Italian charm bracelet my oldest gave me.

Our Smokey Mountain Vacation 2014

11. I met my husband on Facebook, and then met him in person three weeks later in the Smokey Mountains. We were engaged by the end of that week, and married two months later. Best decision I ever made.

12. I always try to say yes, especially if it might involve some fun, and if it isn't illegal, immoral, or deadly.

13. My biggest fear is outliving any of our children.

14. If I have a little spending money, I most likely will spend it in thrift stores. Most of my wardrobe in the last year was purchased at Goodwill Industries and a second hand consignment shop in Geneva, Illinois. Illinois has AMAZING thrift shopping. My closet finally contains some of my favorite clothing labels: L.L. Bean, Chico's, J. Crew, and Lands' End. I bought a lavender cashmere sweater for six bucks! Oh, happy day!

15. Minimalism is something I aspire to. I am not attached to things, unless those things are part of a loved one: cards, letters, poems, or photographs. I have no problem parting with furniture, books I've read, extraneous kitchen wares, or clothing.

16. If I had to choose which of my belongings is my favorite, I'd have to say my MacBook Pro. I love to write and read, and stay in touch with family and friends. It is my window to the world.

17. Chocolate is no longer my favorite flavor, unless it encases one of my current favorite flavors: peanut butter or caramel. I would rather just have peanut butter or caramel. I also love coffee-flavored, and lemon-flavored sweets. Caramel apples and caramel corn are some of my favorite goodies.

18. I would rather eat dessert than any other food. Ice cream. Cookies. Brownies. Cake, not so much, unless nothing else is available.

19. Number 17 is the cause of number 18: I have struggled with my weight most of my adult life. I hit an all-time high of 224 when my youngest was three. ("Mom, you have boobs on your back, too," said the then-three-year-old.) That's when I started lifting weights, running, and eating more protein and vegetables, and limiting myself to indulgences on my free days. It took me three years, but I lost 80 pounds. Yep. I got down to 144, and a size 4. That lasted about a week, and then I was able to maintain a size 6-8 for the next ten years or so. When I hit 50, I relaxed on my efforts, and my weight slowly increased. These days I'm thrilled when the size 10s, and an occasional 8, slip on effortlessly.

20. I detest broccoli; to my knowledge it is the only veggie I don't like. I love salad. When I eat salad, I dip the tines of my fork in the dressing, and probably use about a teaspoon of dressing that way.

21. The beach is my favorite place for vacations. This year I went to Fort Walton Beach in Florida with Chuck to meet our grandson, and spend time with Chris and Amy, and Bridger and I went to La Jolla, California to spend a weekend with Sierra. I added nine sand dollars to my collection while we were in Florida!  I look forward to introducing Chuck to my favorite beach in South Carolina: Myrtle Beach.

22. Hiking is my exercise of choice. The ground is kind of flat in Illinois, so I enjoy walking around St. Charles, and look forward to riding my bike.

23. I'm not a fan of chocolate fudge, but while we were on Mackinac Island, I discovered I love caramel apple-flavored fudge, but I only had a taste.

24. Every morning starts early (I rarely sleep past 4) with a big drink of water, and a half a pot of coffee. I love my coffee light and sweet, so I add half and half and stevia. "I Have a Bean," from Wheaton, is my favorite roaster, and I feel absolutely spoiled when there is a bag of it in my cupboard.

25. I was the first-born of three, and gave birth to three children of my own. Dylan, Sierra, and Bridger are amazing adults, and I can't believe my good fortune in being their mother. They are smart, funny, independent, and resourceful. I am so proud of them.

26. After marrying Chuck, I became a stepmom to three sons, and they have been so good to me. I appreciate so much their texts, messages, and Skype calls. The boys have their dad's wit, and they have all been blessed with intelligent brains and good hearts. We are lucky parents, indeed. A sweet bonus is getting to be a step-grandma to the cutest little baby boy, C.J. He just started crawling!

27. I put my Christmas tree up on Halloween this year, with Chuck's support and help. The passing of fall always makes me feel a little melancholy, and adding the glow of Christmas lights to our house lifts my spirits.

28. My "guilty pleasure," if that's even a fair assessment, is country music. Our house is filled with instrumentals and classical music most of the time, but when I'm alone, at home or in my car, I almost always listen to country.

29. My phobias include claustrophobia, falling from heights, and being startled. I am NOT afraid of spiders or snakes. My fear of mice has been fading over the years...

30. Chuck has many nicknames for me: Beautiful Bride, Mrs. B., Beautiful, Country Mouse...but my favorite is Stuart, another mouse reference. If you've ever read If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, you might understand how this distracted woman could get named after a mouse.

31. My hobbies are photography, writing, and reading. Marrying Chuck, a wonderful photographer and my mentor, has helped me make great improvements in my photos.

32. I love to bake, but because I'm married to a diabetic, and I am trying not to lead myself into temptation, I'm trying to become a better cook, and less of a baker.

33.  As a child, (okay, yes, and even as an adult) I was sneaky when it came to Christmas presents.

Up until about six years ago, I have to admit that I had been known to open presents before the holiday, and rewrap them. These days, I wait. Do I have any regrets about shaking, poking, and peeking? Yes. Being caught. ;-)

34. In 1978, when I was a junior in high school, I went to Chicago as Virginia's representative at the National 4H Convention as the state's citizenship winner. Since then, I have not been very involved in government, and am not affiliated with any political party. I tire of the presidential debates, and seeing political rants on Facebook.

35. My house almost always looked like a disaster zone when my children were little. If you are a young mom, don't despair that it will never get better. It will. Eventually, the kids will move out, and actually end up doing a darn good job keeping up their own homes. Mine did, anyway.

36. I love weather, all weather: sun, rain, snow. I even like watching hail accumulate, and lightning storms are amazing!

37.  The cardinal is the state bird of Virginia and Illinois. One day I hope to photograph a cardinal in the snow. I have a picture in my mind of what I want; meanwhile, I keep trying. Here are two cardinals having a standoff in our backyard in St. Charles; my first cardinal sighting in many years was about a year ago.

38. Even though I grew up in Virginia, I've never had much of a southern drawl. (In college, I had someone guess I was from Arizona. What kind of an accent do they have in Arizona?) Being raised by Yankee parents had its effects on my speech, I suppose.

39. On April Fools' Day several years ago, I wrecked my new Sonata in a three car pile up during rush hour traffic near downtown Salt Lake City. Driving in big cities now gives me great anxiety. 

40. I never met a recipe I couldn't tweak. I love trying to boost the nutritional values in foods; adding fiber, protein, or replacing artery-clogging fats with heart-healthy ones. 

41. When it comes to food, I am pretty adventurous. I've tried sushi, raw fish, and even Rocky Mountain Oysters. I love buying exotic fruits and vegetables I've never seen before to give them a try. So far, I have enjoyed nearly every cuisine I've experienced, and Indian is my current favorite. 

42. I love a good joke. My dad and brothers are great comedians. I did not inherit those genes. For the life of me, TELLING a good joke is not something I can master. Why can't I remember punch lines? (Mom, I blame you. Ha ha.)

43. As a child, I went through boxes of Bandaids like crazy. I'm a little accident-prone. More than once during hospital preps for surgery as an adult, I've had nurses ask if I needed to report any domestic violence. Um, no, never, but I run into open dishwashers, car doors, and cabinets ALL. THE. TIME.

44. Since Thanksgiving is approaching, Black Friday is on my mind. Only once did I arrive at a store at some hideously early hour to take advantage of some ridiculously low-priced item. I will never fight the crazy crowds again to buy a gift. Most of my shopping is done online, and that suits me just fine. 

45. My ancestors all came from Germany. I am 100% German-American. Hearing Grandpa sing O, Tannenbaum at Christmas was a fun tradition I miss.

46. My husband and I stand out in a couple ways at our church. We attend a church with a predominantly Asian-American congregation.  We are both taller and quite a bit older than most of our friends there. They love us, and make us feel so welcome. They tease that they understand that we are still learning their names since they all look alike. (We were told we Anglo people all look alike to them, too, except for hair color.)

47. I wish I could play the drums. I know about four chords on the guitar, and I reluctantly took piano lessons for two years in elementary school. The percussion instruments look like the most fun to play.

48. English is my native language. I minored in French in college when it was evident that I was never going to successfully become fluent enough to teach high school French. I only took one semester of Spanish, and could kick myself for not having studied that more. I could have used it so many times as a teacher and traveler. 

49. Whenever we go shopping, I have to touch everything. I'm always hoping to find textures that are smooth, soft, cushiony, and thick. I love soft socks, blankets, throws, sweaters, sheets, and towels.

50. Speaking of socks, "I love socks." Silly ones, cushy ones, no-shows, anklets, bobby socks, knee socks, slipper ones, holiday socks.

51. I have a weakness for coffee mugs. I know I only need one, but I just love them. And if there is an inspirational or significant saying on them, even better!

52. My hair is fine and flat, by nature. I have to have it processed (highlighted, colored, permed) to make it do anything besides stick to my skull. The baby picture at the top is me at the age of 3. Yeah, the perming began that early.

53. Reading is an enjoyable way to pass the time for me. Currently, I am re-reading the New Testament, Women of the Word, and we just finished reading Wired for Love. I lean toward non-fiction, but I did enjoy Lisa Wingate's book, The Prayer Box last month.

54. If I have the opportunity to hike a slot canyon, I hate to pass it by. It is so nice to hike through a stream, or in the shade during the heat of the summer. Little Wild Horse Canyon is my favorite slot canyon, so far. 

55. For the last couple of years, I have selected a word of the year for my focus. Brave was my word for 2014, and discovery was the word for 2015. It has been a year of discovery for me...a new marriage, living in Illinois, photographing Renaissance Faires, weddings, and the Great Lakes states. I'm learning so much about photography and marriage and life with my husband. It has been a great focus for a year full of opportunities.

Addendum for 2016: My word this year has been INTENTIONAL.

***There you go, Chuck. Mayhap more than you even cared to know, but I promised. I love you.

Tintinnabulation! (Or...Sometimes I Get Confused)

What a glorious word...tintinnabulation. It simply rolls off the tongue. And it has so many syllables and letters. It's sure to impress students of English. Yesterday, I thought I'd finally found an opportunity to show off my mad word skillz to my husband. 

I thought. 

I was wrong.

Just a refresher here. Tintinnabulation is the lingering sound of a bell after it has been struck. The word can be found in Edgar Allen Poe's poem, "The Bells."

       Hear the sledges with the bells -

Silver bells!

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!

How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,

In the icy air of night!

While the stars that oversprinkle

All the heavens, seem to twinkle

With a crystalline delight;

Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells -

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

I know you are dying to hear how I misused, and abused my new vocabulary word. So, here's the dealio.

Chuck called on his way home last night, as he always does, and told me about a swarm of swallows he was watching. 

"Oh, Honey! I know what that is called! You're talking about when the birds fly in formation, and the shape of them shifts and changes, right?" Yes, he was talking about that. "It's called a TINTINNABULATION!"

"It is? I didn't know that."

That's all it took. I knew my brain had let me down. I strained to think back to when I'd learned the REAL word for a swarm of swallows. It was over a year ago, about this time of year. 

One of my writing friends had posted a word of the day graphic on the My 500 Words page on Facebook, citing the word  and definition. Of course, I'd SEEN swallows swoop and twist and fly in formation, but I'd never known there was a word for it. I loved learning the new word for the swarm of swallows. But the word was not tintinnabulation. 

In a panic, I opened my MacBook, and scrambled to find the word. A-ha...there it was. The word was (drumroll please)...

MURMURATION.

So close. Well, the last six letters matched up, at least. Sometimes I hate my brain. The older I get, the more it lets me down. 

People Over Things

Although Daylight Saving Time went into effect a couple days ago, it was still too early for the sun to be on the rise. My husband was just beginning to stir. Through the darkness of our bedroom,  I said, "Please help me remember to be a Mary today, not a Martha." He pulled me closer, kissed my forehead, and promised to do that for me. "I need to remember that people are more important than things." 

My mom and stepdad left Virginia yesterday, and will be stopping in Illinois today on their way to Utah. Operation Clean and Straighten went into overdrive yesterday. I don't know why I'm like this, but I am. I ask myself constantly, "Seriously? Why are you doing this?" when I catch myself getting worked up over making the house look a little more like those in a magazine than it does.

Basically, I am fairly organized, and pretty tidy. A deep cleaner I'm not. But right before company comes...

None of the trash cans have a speck of trash in them. Why? (So my mom doesn't think we throw stuff away?) My shower doors are practically gleaming. (As much as old shower doors can gleam, anyway.) I have vacuumed the downstairs. (I suppose I think fresh vacuum tracks will prove I made an effort to impress.) Today I will dust, and mop, and polish mirrors. There are many, many tasks that will go undone. And when it's all said and done, it will be okay.

My mother is not exactly a "white glove" kind of mom. She doesn't inspect her kids' homes and issue reports, or gossip about her findings with anyone else. (And if she HAS told you about my housekeeping, keep it to yourself, okay? Mum's the word.) 

So why do I do this?

When we were growing up, we lived in a big, old farmhouse, packed to the roof with kids. Ten of us lived there, and my mom did her best to manage the masses, but it was an uphill battle. I can remember, as a teenager, being critical of our messy house. Mom provided a place for each of us to hang up our jackets after school, but the family room and back hall were littered with shoes, coats, school books, and toys. I would beg Mom to throw away the leaning tower of Tupperware (and Cool Whip and margarine containers). I swore I'd only have the bare necessities in MY kitchen when I grew up. 

Now I'm the grownup. There are not eight children in my home. So why isn't it spotless? Why do I have an excess of containers for leftovers? 

I think I aspire to live up to the standards I wished we could have had when I was younger. And I fail miserably. And I don't want anyone to know that. 

On the other hand, I am a lot like my mom. Our houses may not be spotless, but we love being with family and friends, and we live life with optimism and enthusiasm. I hope people remember that about us, more than our housekeeping skills. 

If you want spontaneity, I'm your girl. If you want me to be ready at a moment's notice, I can do that. If you want me to drop what I'm doing to help someone, I have no qualms about that. 

Just ask Chuck. We go and go and go. I love taking off with him to do photo shoots, go for rides, and eat out at restaurants. All of this flying by the seat of my pants comes with a cost, though. 

My house suffers a little. My floors go a little long between moppings. Dust gathers on windowsills and mantels. And sometimes there are dishes still on the drying rack in the morning when I wake up that are still there when I go to bed. Most of the time, I'm okay with this. As long as things are put away, and somewhat organized, I usually don't worry about some crumbs and a little dust.

Knowing someone is coming to visit changes things. I have a lot in common with Martha in the Bible story about Mary and Martha, and the way they acted when they had Jesus as a guest. I fret about the details, and forget the big picture. I tend to work myself into a frazzle getting the house company-ready, instead of just welcoming the opportunity to visit. Rather than being relaxed before guests arrive, I stress about the things I should have done sooner. And on occasion, while everyone is visiting, I'm still taking care of last minute details in the kitchen.

My folks aren't coming to see the house, and I know that. They could care less which chores I've completed, and which were left undone. They are coming to see US, the people who live in the house, not the building in which we live. 

Chuck knows how I am, and so even though he was very tired after a long day at work, and a photo shoot last night, he quietly moved the furniture to the basement that we won't be using during the holiday season. (We put up our Christmas tree on Halloween, and there's just not room for the coffee table in the living room.) 

This morning before he left for work, he gathered our camera bags and backpacks, and took them upstairs to our storage room, so the office looks tidy and organized again. While I was cleaning up from our breakfast, I heard the vacuum, and I went to scold him, until I saw that he was vacuuming the stairs, and then I was just grateful for his help. That hurts my back, and he knows it. 

So right now, I've decided just to do only the most necessary of preparations for guests. I will mop the kitchen, put fresh linens on their bed, and finish vacuuming upstairs. Then I will relax, and prepare to enjoy our special guests. We're keeping things simple as far as dinner is concerned; we're treating my parents to Giordano's tonight so they can try Chicago-style pizza for themselves, and bonus: I won't have to cook!

Today, I will be a Mary, and enjoy the people inside the walls of my home, and let the house stand on its own. Chores can wait. Family and friends are so much more important than a house worthy of a magazine cover. People over things. That's the mantra for today.

The Glad Game

I do love November. Fall is still hanging on, as winter teases us with occasional bursts of snow and rain. Thanksgiving means holiday meals with the people I love.  I just so happen to have been born in November which means it's the month I have always felt the most spoiled. I just love November.

When I was little, my mom introduced me to the concept of Pollyanna's Glad Game. Mom has always encouraged us to be grateful for the simple things, and to seek the silver linings of the inevitable clouds.

There may be some who scoff at endless optimism as an approach to life, but as Pollyanna said herself, "When you're hunting for the glad things, you sort of forget the other kind." 

With Thanksgiving approaching, my thoughts turn to counting my blessings, and my "grateful for"s. I could play Pollyanna's Glad Game every single day, and never tire of it. I kind of do. It may drive some people crazy, but I can't help it. I "ooh" and "ah" over every little thing. 

The last leaves of autumn clinging to a branch. A nibble of rich chocolate. The heat of my electric blanket as it radiates across the bed. Lightly spiced muffins. A text from one of our kids. Chuck's offer to do the dishes. Gentle rain on a metal roof.

Pleasure can be derived from the most minute of details. Breathing fresh mountain air. Noticing neon green lichen on a rock. Finding something that had been lost. Spying early morning dew on a blade of grass. A gorgeous display in a shop window.

One thing for which I am most grateful is having a partner who can appreciate the little things with me. Chuck has an easy-going personality, and his deep appreciation for all that is beautiful and good reminds me to keep positive. His eye for detail is something that takes his photography to a higher level, and it makes him notice even the small stuff. He is good at mentioning specifics when he gives compliments. Daily, I can count on him to thank me for things I do, and to point out positives throughout his day. During phone calls, he will tell me to look outside at the sunrise, or he will describe the leaves as he is driving to work.

It's not always easy to feel grateful. Sometimes we could give in and let pain dominate our day, or we could succumb to a lingering mood. There will always be challenges and setbacks, but if we allow ourselves to settle in to the moment, we might discover the hidden gifts waiting to be found.

"Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November..." This month, would you like to join me in taking time each of the thirty days to make note of the things that make YOU glad? 

When you first wake up, or right before you go to bed, think about the good things for which you're thankful. You don't have to post them on social media, although you could. You don't have to write them in a journal, but you could. You don't have to do it at all, but you might find that it is a worthwhile pursuit. Go ahead. Play the Glad Game. You might be glad you did.

Another Autumn

37 feels like 27.

So says 

The Weather Channel.

My numb cheeks 

would agree.

A grey wind is 

rattling tree limbs,

removing the remnants

of the season, 

the once vibrant 

leaves of fall.

As I shuffle through 

the scattered piles of 

of leaves below

the old oak trees,

the withered, brown

leaves crunch beneath

my feet.

The river 

in the distance is

flowing freely now.

Its icy edges 

will be forming 

all too soon,

slowing the water

when winter blows

its icy breath

once more.

Bracing against 

the gusty winds,

I trudge toward home, 

warmth, and comfort,

 to mourn the 

passing of another 

autumn season.

My Secret's Out

Psst...I already put up my Christmas tree in Joseph, and the one in Saint Charles is going up Saturday. Now before you get your tinsel in a tangle because I'm doing things out of order, let me explain. 

Oh, Tannenbaum!

Our family has a long-standing tradition of a very non-traditional combining of the holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas. THANKSMAS has been in existence for about 24 years, and allows us to have a big family celebration around Thanksgiving, and frees up family members to celebrate Christmas at home or with the other in-laws. It works for us. 

Snow on the mountain in south central Utah
October 19, 2015

Last week, when Bridger and I returned to Utah from our trip to La Jolla, there was snow on the mountain. SNOW. Snow means the autumn leaves are not long for this earth, and that tends to make me very sad. Decorating for the holidays (translation: CHRISTMAS) helps take my mind off things. I have always wanted to decorate earlier than Thanksmas, and this year, I have the backing of my number one sidekick: CHUCK. 

I texted Chuck that I must, MUST, put up my Christmas tree before I flew back to Chicago to get ready for Thanksmas. His response? 

"I agree. You must. You really have no option."

See why I love this man?

So I dragged out my teeny, tiny tree I bought at Smith's grocery store for my fifth grade classroom several years ago. I dusted it off, and assembled the three small sections together. I plugged it in. How disappointing. Only the bottom of the tree was illuminated. What did I expect from my $20 tree? A lifetime of Christmas lights?

I spent the next hour and a half removing the tangled web of lights attached to the branches of my "prelit" tree, and then spent another hour adding hundreds of my own mini-lights. The work was worth it, don't you agree?

Note the very appropriate autumn wreath on the door, next to the darling Christmas tree!

This little tree is for me, mostly. It is full of memories of days gone by with my littles. There are ornaments from my hometown in Virginia, and lots of shiny red balls, and yards of red ribbon. Red berries are tucked here and there. The tree's glow welcomes me home after dark, and warms my heart whenever I have the chance to bask in its light. It keeps my spirits up when the ending of autumn threatens to bring them down.

Our First Christmas, 2014

So, Happy Holidays, everyone! If you need the Bennorths on Halloween, we'll be in our living room, putting up our new Christmas tree. We've declared it a pajama day since rain is in the forecast. I can't think of a better way to spend the day. Decorating the tree, relaxing at home, and listening to carols with the one I love. 

Merry Hallowthanksmas, indeed!



Thanksmas??? What the heck? To read more about this odd little tradition, click HERE. 

Lessons from the Lakes

When Chuck and I first met last fall in the Smokey Mountains, we began dreaming of all the places we looked forward to showing each other...I wanted to show him the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia in the autumn; he wanted me to see the colors, lakes, and waterfalls of Michigan in the fall.

The leaves were approaching their peak as we traveled through Michigan.

Well, a year after meeting in October, Chuck took me on a weeklong vacation touring the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, first staying on Mackinac Island, and coming home along Lake Michigan through Wisconsin. It was a bucket list getaway for us that took place during my most favorite season of all.

Early morning on Mackinac Island, the streets wet with rain.

Our vacation just happened to coincide with one of those weeks when I watched life events unfold around me that left me shaking my head in disbelief, and feeling very, very sad. It just seemed that trials kept happening to people I cared about, and there was nothing I could have done to change the events that left people hurting.

Tahquamenon Falls, Michigan

The backdrop for all of this sadness was such a sharp contrast to how I felt because my husband and I were enjoying the fall leaves, and celebrating Chuck's 56th birthday that week. I was surrounded by such stunning scenery, and spending time with my sweetheart. I felt such guilt as I fought to keep tears from brimming my eyes, and struggled to keep my composure as we drove from one scenic spot to the next.

Near Munising, Michigan

What could be so troubling, you may wonder, and why was it affecting me so deeply? What was happening around me? Life, plain and simple. Ordinary things that happen every single day  to people I don't know were now affecting people close to me: death, loss, illness, canceled plans, unrealized dreams. 

A loved one went to bed one night, and didn't wake up the next morning; a young life ended way too early. A friend's father died who was one of the most beloved bus drivers at my elementary school. My oldest called to say that somehow the settings on his camera had been changed, and the thousand shots he took this month had all been shot at the lowest resolution. (If you are a photographer, you know this is a big deal.) We had to cancel my husband's birthday celebration planned with his boys and parents so no one else caught whatever the terrible virus he was battling at the end of our journey. A road trip with my younger son to celebrate his 18th birthday looked like it was not going to happen. My daughter's life was in limbo, as she was deciding to leave California, and head back home to Utah. And I couldn't deny that lethargy seemed to be taking me over, and there was an annoying tickle in my throat that made me nervous about flying to Utah the day after our vacation ended. 

One evening in Munising, we stopped at a local market to buy a chocolate birthday cake and food for a few meals, and while Chuck was paying for our groceries, I perused the greeting cards, hoping I'd find a special card for my son. I picked up a card whose front said, "I thought I loved you the day you were born," and inside were the words, "But my love for you has grown so much watching you become the amazing person you are." A mist started to form on the inside of my sunglasses, and I put the card back, thankful for the dark glasses that hid my tears from Chuck and the other shoppers. I didn't want to ruin his birthday with my melancholy mood. I missed my kids so much.

Falls near Munising, Michigan

There was a rising sense of panic that I needed to gather my children around me, to know they were safe and sound, that they knew how deeply I loved them, and that I wanted to make sure I took every opportunity to tell them "I love you." Chuck suggested I call them, and tell them. I was worried I would burst into tears, so I sent frequent texts while we were gone, checking on them, and reminding them of my love.

It seemed that everywhere I turned, all I could say to friends and family was "I'm so sorry. I feel your pain. I have been where you are." And I had to trust that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. Sometimes there is just nothing that can fix what has happened. What's done is done, and all we can do is help our friends pick up the pieces, and start over.

Tahquamenon Falls

When I relinquish the ridiculous notion that I can control any of the variables that affect the lives of my loved ones, it doesn't change much of anything, except my reaction, which in all honesty, is the only thing I get to control anyway. When I am at peace with uncertainty, I feel more calm. When I learn to let go of those things I can't change, I become unstuck, and I can start living again. When I take stock of the situation, I realize that everyone deals with loss, pain, and suffering. Nothing lasts forever. That is very reassuring when we are going through trials of our own, and reminds us to enjoy the fleeting moments of joy that come our way while they're here.

We were surrounded by water as we traveled along Lake Michigan, and then went to Mackinac Island which is surrounded by Lake Huron and Lake Michigan. There were waterfalls galore near Munising, Michigan, which borders Lake Superior. We spent a lot of time watching the lakes. It gave me time to think.

The waves pounding the shore of Lake Superior

As I took in the scenery, I realized how life is fluid, like water. It ebbs and flows. There are births and deaths; highs and lows; torrential downpours and drought. Both water and our lives can be turbulent one moment, and peaceful the next.Watching the waves of Lake Superior crash on the shore, reminded me of the terrifying power water has when it unleashes its fury. When we watched a small rowboat cross a lake that was smooth as glass, feelings of peace and calm washed over me. 

The still waters above the falls of Tahquamenon, Michigan.

Just like life events, water will not be controlled by the efforts of a lone individual. Consequences are set in motion by choices and actions of those we love. Hearts soften, they sometimes break, and sometimes, hearts simply stop beating. We need to appreciate the power and the beauty of nature, and respect the forces at work around us. 

The harbor on Mackinac Island

In our wedding vows, Chuck and I promised to be each other's safe harbor, to be a soft spot to land when the world seems harsh. 

During that challenging week, I finally opened up to Chuck about my sadness. I cried, and he held me, and loved me through it. He didn't fix it. The problems didn't go away, but I felt strengthened by his love, and knew he would sit with me as I wrestled with my troubling thoughts. 

Each morning, we welcomed the sunrise on the docks of Mackinac, and each evening, bid the sun goodnight as it set over the water, beyond the bridge. There is something so reassuring in the rhythms of life. Even as the sun was setting at the close of day, I knew that it would rise again the next.

We know there will be endings; we also know there will be new beginnings. We get another chance with each new day. There is some comfort to be found in knowing the sun will rise with its warmth and light after a long night of darkness. 

Watching the waves of Lake Superior.

What can we do when it seems we have no control over the events around us, and the waves of life are crashing down around the ones we love? We can observe. We can sit in companionable silence with our loved ones as they mourn, and appreciate what has been, and look forward to good things to come. We can live in the moment, and try not to force things we cannot control. We can cherish what we had, and be grateful for what we still have. We can let go of our pain, and accept the peace that comes from letting go. While we can't always fix everything, and make everything better, we can offer our love, and our support to others until the storm subsides, and the seas become calm again. 

The storm will subside, you know, as hard as that is to believe in the thick of it; the seas will calm. We can take comfort in knowing that whatever is troubling us won't last forever. We need to be patient.

The sun will rise on a brand new day, and until it does, we need to hang on until the morning. The darkness won't last much longer, and when it is over, we will discover strength we didn't know we had, and tender mercies we may have overlooked. 

The lessons I learned at the lakes reminded me of the comfort we can find in the rhythms and cycles of life. It may take awhile, but the solace we're seeking is there, just waiting until we are ready to let go, and just be.

Happy Awareniversary, Chuck!

A drizzling rain spotted my windshield after I backed out of the garage, and my headlights lit up the closing garage door. We were getting an early morning start, just after six; Chuck heading to work, and I, to the grocery store.

Today is the anniversary of my becoming aware of the fascinating creature, Chuck Bennorth. I had tagged him in a post on Facebook, wishing him a Happy Anniversary of the Piqued Interest, and totally didn't get it when our friend Jane sent us a congratulatory "H.A.O.T.P.I." Duh. As I said, we started early today; perhaps a little more sleep is in order.

While I was pushing a wobbly-wheeled cart at Walmart, Chuck and I chatted on the phone. "Sounds like you picked a great cart," he teased. Yeah, it was loud enough for my phone mic to pick up. Every morning since we met on Facebook a year ago, we have spent most of Chuck's 75 minute commutes to and from work, talking on the phone. After my grocery cart was full of food, my eyes were drawn to an orange paisley, über-soft blanket on an end cap, he told me it better get in my cart so it could come home with me. He knows of my weakness for all things orange, and especially things orange and SOFT.

Next I wandered over to get new lighters for our candles, and some more fall-scented candles. We're going on vacation to look at the fall foliage around the Great Lakes at the end of the week, and ever since our first getaway to the Great Smoky Mountains, Chuck has always made sure we take candles with us. I love the romantic streak in that man. It is a very wide streak, indeed.

May I tell you that this honeymoon is still going strong, in part because of his amazing sense of all things romantic. After dinner last night, for example, he did the dishes, and then told me we were going out for a little surprise. I knew exactly what my surprise was going to be because he had tried to treat me to this very thing Sunday afternoon, but Cracker Barrel was all out of Pumpkin Custard 'N' Ginger Snaps, unless we wanted to hang out in the Country Store for three hours when they would have more available. The custard is so good, but not "wait for three hours" good.

Amazon Ordering Info

So, last night, we drove the thirty minutes to Naperville to pick up my treat, and while we traveled, I read to Chuck. The book we're currently reading is Wired for Love by Stan Tatkin. How many husbands are legitimately interested in working on communication to keep the love alive in marriage? I am so blessed, and I know it.

One year ago today, we became aware of each other, and things snowballed from there. It was a whirlwind courtship, and after only five days of being together, we were engaged, and just less than three months from the day our interests were piqued, we were married. 

Thank you, Chuck, for taking a chance on me, and for asking me to marry you. I would do it all again, just the way we did, changing nothing. Well, except I still wish I had found you earlier, but we are making up for lost time now!

October 2014
Great Smoky Mountains
Tennessee

Stories about our beginning:

Chuck and Denise: We Clicked from the Beginning

Was There a Time Before Us?

A Circle Story of My Own, a Fairy Tale, of Sorts

As We Approach Our Big Day

A Double Nickel's Worth of Facts about Chuck

Our Teacher's Getting Married!

With This Ring, I Thee Wed

Yeah, We're THAT Couple

Each weekend we were together this summer, my husband and I would rise early on Saturday or Sunday, and when we were lucky, BOTH days, to drive to Wisconsin to photograph the Bristol Renaissance Faire.

If you've never been to a Renaissance Faire, you are missing out. The Bristol faire is exceptional in every way. Once you pass through the gates, you are swept into the magical town of Bristol in the Middle Ages. You meet the townspeople and performers, and if you are lucky enough, you may even meet HRH, the Queen herself. It is a photographer's paradise, complete with quaint scenery, beautiful costumes, and friendly faces. Reenactors and guests of the faire generously stop to pose for our cameras.

Shootout at Shakespeare's Meadow

The photographers enjoy a friendly camaraderie, and more than once, we have enjoyed seeing our photos on Facebook, posted by our friends. Anyone who knows us, knows to look for the couple in the matching shirts. Yep, that would be us. Whenever we are going out together, we coordinate our shirts, whether we're going out to dinner, or to church, and yes, to the faire. 

Is that silly? Well, we are silly. And we are a couple, in every sense of the word. (A couple of WHAT? I know what you're thinking...) We are THAT couple who does everything together, even wear color-coordinated shirts.

People often comment on our clothes. It was a good conversation starter, in some cases. Occasionally, strangers would do a double-take, and say, "Hey, you guys match!" More than once we heard the comment, "Did you guys do that on purpose?"

Some of the photographers liked to tease us about it, and a few of them shared photos of us on Facebook, tagging the pictures with fun comments like "Matching." (Thank you, John.) 

"Matching"
Photo credit: John Karpinsky

During the Labor Day weekend, one of the shopkeepers came outside to talk to us. She said she'd seen us all three days, and had noticed our matching shirts. She thought it was cute. 

After we said our goodbyes to her, Chuck and I were dumbfounded. There are easily 24,000 people in attendance each day at the faire, and she noticed US, three days in a row. I guess you could say matching shirts have become our trademark.

Chuck always tells people that it helps him remember what I'm wearing if we ever get separated. He looks down at his shirt, and tugs on the fabric for emphasis in his explanation, and says it makes it easier to find me.

Photo credit: Linda Robinson at Robinson Photography

Photo credit: Brian Schultz

We were excited when our friend John showed up in a coordinating shirt one of the days we were at Bristol. Maybe this will be the start of something big. Well, kind of big. Think how fun it would be for all of the photographers to wear matching shirts with us. Or not...

Photo Credit: TG Davison Photography

Adorable, or ADORKABLE? We'll let you decide, but either way, it's just something we do. We're THAT couple.

Photo Credit: TG Davison Photography

Sunrise, Interrupted

"Shrink!" The loudly whispered word startled me in the dark hallway. My nickname was familiar, but  hearing it hissed in the predawn hours was a little unsettling.

"What?" I said into the darkness, not sure which of my sons I was addressing.

"Want to go shoot the sunrise?"

Ah, it was Dylan, the older. Of course, it was. The sun was not yet up, which means that of course, the younger son was not up either. He likes to prolong his sleep as long as possible. Dylan and I are light sleepers, and welcome the early morning hours.

"Of course, I do. I'll hurry and get ready." One of the blessings of being a low-maintenance kind of gal is that I can be ready in a moment's notice. I sent off a hurried text to Chuck, brushed my teeth, and threw on some shorts and a shirt. I think I brushed my hair. Maybe.

Dylan already had coffee waiting for me, and was loading our gear in the car. That guy is amazing, I tell ya. We spoke in hushed tones to let his wife and Bridger sleep. It wasn't long before we were heading west above Saint George to shoot the eastern sky.

Dylan and I are both pretty new to photography, and I was wishing my husband, the veteran shooter, were with us. After watching the night sky turn from black to grey to a soft blue, and noticing the hints of peach and pink on the distant horizon, neither one of us were very satisfied with what we were seeing through our lens. We downed the rest of our coffee, and packed up the tripods and cameras.

"Sorry we didn't do better," I said.

"Ah, it's okay. It was a good excuse to get up early and spend some time with you." That boy knows how to make his mama's heart happy.

As we were driving around a nearby neighborhood, Dylan pointed out some of his clients' homes. Then we noticed the sky was glowing. We were actually missing the sunrise! We sped back up the hill, slid to a stop in the loose gravel on the side of the road, and hurriedly grabbed our gear to set up again. I used the top of the car as a makeshift tripod, not wanting to waste any more time.

"You missed it!" said an old guy sitting on a rock on the edge of the overlook. The sun had just peeked over the distant mountain. Well, we might have missed the first glimpse of the sun, but we weren't going to miss the rest of it arguing with a pessimist on a rock.

As it turns out, we had a great time, playing with the settings on our cameras, and getting a few decent shots.

"I feel kind of silly that we left before the sun was actually up," I said. "DUH. I was assuming since the colors had dulled to a bland sky, we'd missed the colors for the day. Boy, was I wrong."

We had a good laugh, and went home to see what we'd gotten. Even if we'd totally missed the sunrise, the time with Dylan was priceless. The pictures were simply a bonus of that memorable morning.