Witch is true?

A few years ago, for a red hat party, I actually dressed up as a witch, I even painted my face. The look was...well shall I say, interesting.

The best part is that I often think to myself...witch am I? Someone true to my beliefs or that person dressed up in the uniform of the dark. Do I look at everything and give it proper thought before making judgement.

In today's society, they want you to be PC proper. I have decided that it's important to take a stand. To be an individual, to stand up and be counted. If that makes me a witch, so be it. But one thing I know, I am true to my belief and stand by them. I am not angry, threading, or down right mean. I live my days being the best person I can be. I also, don't pick fights.

So, everyone who knows me can make the determination of what they believe I am. For me, witch or not, I am me.

Happy Halloween to those who stop in and visit my little blog.

Carol

After the party.

I remember dad working hard. But there was another side of dad that I do remember, his cigars. Mostly because mom complained about them. Dad loved to dance, some drinking, playing cards and enjoying friends. He also loved a cigar at the end of the day. I don't know when he started smoking cigars or how many he smoked, but it seems a fixture in his life.

He was a man of little needs. When it came to gift giving events it was always a mystery what to buy him. He was never impressed with material things, but the thought behind the gift was what he liked. So often in his older years we would give him a bottle of Five Star Brandy or a box of cigars. Even mom gave him cigars after a while. I know what you're thinking....she hated him smoking cigars.

This is where the story gets good. One year at Christmas, dad opened his present to find again, a box of cigars. It was from mom and there on dad's face was a smirk and his eyes seems to shimmer. It stopped the gift opening because this was unlike dad.

When ask what was happening, he smiled and said...I stopped smoking months ago. Everyone broke out laughing and mom, who had complained about his smoking, truly melted into the chair in which she was sitting.

As a family we laughed at this story for years. What fun memories to remember and share.

God Bless those who travel with me through my memories.

Carol

Picture Me Proud.

When I came upon this one, I just had to smile. Don't the boys look good, all decked in their suits and seeing only the many possibilities facing them.

Of course, I don't remember them looking like this. They were just my brothers. Marv, who you saw in one of my last story and my brother Bob to the right look confident. The important part is that they were, my family projected confidence and resolve.

Dad and Mom taught us well. The possibilities are endless. Unlike today, we were told we had to work hard and we would earn our reward. Not only in the work place but in our family and in our faith.

They learned well from Mom and Dad and today they don't have to project confidence, they are confident. Not only in business but in family and faith. It's great to be surrounded by good people. I am blessed.

Carol

Let's move on.

That's what we did. I truly didn't understand what it meant and it was obvious that I didn't know anything when I left the farm. As far as I could see on the farm it was ours. In town it was a totally different subject. I could have never known what I was going to experience. I was ready.

My two brothers were in charge of me when we got to town. Waite Park at the time was very small, and from my Aunt Marie's to our new house, was only three blocks away. My brothers were riding two wheeler bikes and me, well, lets say it was a very small three wheeler. I was so proud of it.

On the way over, they just happened to lose me. Getting me to our new home wasn't a very important mission in their minds. The story goes that the police brought me home. What a great place, people who can give you a ride home, especially when I didn't know where I lived. We didn't have these guys on the farm. I'm sure I talked all the way home, how I got there is really a mystery because I hadn't been there before.

The home was only a basement home, that meant the top floor was not built yet. You don't see them these days. Anyway, this is what the house looked like after my parents built the top floor. It was wonderful and full of love.

God Bless those who travel through my little blog.

Carol

She was beautiful....

I have decided that this picture, of all pictures, shows me, what mom really looked like most of my life. As a child and young adult I really didn't spend time looking at her. I was self centered, I was growing up, I was going to be an artist. It's time you spend becoming someone. I don't think that I'm any different from anyone else. I'm human, and human is not always a complement.

In this picture I see a woman, that has given birth to nine children and lost one soon after birth. I see someone who should look tired and overworked. And yet here she is taking time with the youngest, me. I never had children, and in my late twenties, mom looked at me and ask if I was going to have children. I told her that I didn't think so. She said that if she was me, NOW...she wouldn't have had any.

This surprised me, she was a very good mother. Without a moment of silence, she stated something that made my heart beat fast. In soft words, and a warm smile, she stated that luckily God didn't know this and gave her not only beautiful children but the chance to make a difference. Oh my....what was I to say. So, as a good daughter, I just admired her.

I know at times that I made a mistake, also knowing if I would have had a child, God would have helped me to be as good a mother. Because she was my corner stone I could have made a difference also.

God Bless those who travel through my little world called Balsam Ponds By Design.

Carol

I Tried No...it didn't work.

I alluded to the first time I remember taking a big stand against something. The first time I did it when appearance was at stake was the wedding of the oldest brother. They wanted me to be the flower girl. All I knew was I didn't like the idea. Because I would have to stand next to a boy. Now, after six brothers and their friends I figured I had had enough boys.

Once again I used the NO word when I didn't have a choice. I don't remember much about this whole event; I do remember finally getting put into the dress and handed this basket. Ok, it didn't hurt much yet. But at the church came this guy with a camera. This was not happening. I decided that throwing my basket might do it. Didn't work. So the first picture is what the world saw.

The second photo is what we really thought about this whole thing. His face says it all.

I was a good girl the rest of the day. Maybe being in the lime light wasn't so bad. Especially when I realized all I had to do was smile and walk next to that boy. But I was hoping this would end it. Little did I know.

God Bless those who smile at my life events.

Carol

When a baby becomes an Aunt

When I was five, I became an aunt to my oldest brothers new addition. I told mom that I was not going to be an aunt again. I felt saying it added a measure of truth to life. At five I was wrong again. I also didn't know that Kevin was going to warm my heart and for the first time I was feeling possessive.

Kevin was small and surely needed me to protect him. Who else better than me, with my vast knowledge of life. Now love for me was something new. I felt loved and knew that even if my brothers and sister teased me, they loved me. But at age five, I didn't really know what love was. Kevin opened a new door for me.

Don't get me wrong, I was still standing akimbo on my demand that this was going to be the last. I should have known that wouldn't work. Mostly because I had only a year or some before said I would never be in a wedding again. The same brother. He was truly becoming a problem.

After many years Kevin still owns a part of my heart. And when I think of him, I think of him as my little brother. Nice change of pace over being the youngest.

The moral of this story is...sometimes don't say never again, when you receive something so special as Kevin in your life.

God Bless those who travel through my little world called Balsam Ponds by Design

Carol

Mystery Memories

Being the baby of a family of eight, has more dimension than you can imagine. I am 20 years younger than the oldest. I am six years younger than the closet brother. So, growing up in my family was a memory mystery.

My days were filled with being alone with mom and dad. But these other members of the family came and went. I had five great years on our family farm. I was five when we left and I have to say the memories were some of my best. Maybe because all my brothers and my sister traveled through the house either coming from a day at school or from the Twin Cities with girlfriends or on motor cycles.

It was so normal. I remember cookie baking with mom, my aunt Marie coming for supper and helping with baking at Christmas. I remember the time my brother came home from the Service all decked in their uniforms and the celebration was so breath taking.

The funny thing is that now it sounds as though my memories are just a glimpse of positive times. I really don't care, mostly because I felt so normal. I know our life was not a bed of roses, but guess what, I am glad that there was enough love round me to make me feel as though the world was truly whole and we loved each other.

I remember good days and isn't that what life is about. Taking the good and making it better. Thanks to my family for those warm feelings. By the way this is my brother Marv. What a stud muffin he was. But even though he is a good looker, he is still the best guy ever.

Carol

The Family as I know it...

I spent a week with my sister and realized how blessed I am to have this family. I decided to do a series of posts about the family as I know it. My first one is below.

WHEN THE FAMILY WAS WHOLE.

This was the last picture taken when the family was whole. At the time, it seemed just like one more picture. All of us smiled, or what we call grin and bare it. But now that I look back I realize that we were lucky to have someone to request a group picture.

The loss of a father, than brother, brought us together again and again to talk over memories and remember the loss of these two loving ones. But we knew in our hearts that with time more would go home to God. Making time together even more valuable. Our next loss was our mother. At 91 she was by all means the the glue that keep us together. We would find that she had given us what we needed to keep the family strong.

I knew she was not only the glue but my corner stone that I live my life by. My dad gave me my work ethic and moral base. He never said bad about anyone. Only when we, the kids, got out of control would he step forward and shut us down. The two of them together, were a force to recon with. Strong, constant, and fair. As we grew older, we knew it was a lot to live up to, but isn't that the point, living up to who goes before you. In our case we had something wonderful to live up too and I thank them everyday.

God Bless those who try to be the best parents, and less the friends. When we got older we become their friends but always respected them as parents.

Carol