~and it might as well have been me~

I've had a craving for canned peas lately and yesterday I just gave up and bought some at the local supermarket here in town.  I ate the entire can, yes the entire 2.5 servings can, last night for supper.  I guess I must have been thinking of my mom.

Back in the good old days when I was just a little 5-year old kindergarten girl, my mom would always fix the same scrumptious dinner for me when I got out of school.  When that little red station wagon would let me off at the front door of our farm home in the sand hills of Harvey County, I could always trust that she would have made for me a meal consisting of two things.

~boiled potatoes and canned peas, swimming in butter with salt and pepper~

Each noontime without fail, that's what I could count on and oh how I did love them.  Even though I ate them literally every single day, it didn't matter to me.  There was just something about them that made me feel good.  I suppose it was my early day version of what we now refer to as "comfort food".  I always cleaned my little plate up and generally asked if there was any more.  

It tasted so good to me and now, 55 years later, I still recollect them.

Once, a couple of years before she passed away, I asked my mom why it was that we always had the same meal when I came home from kindergarten each day.  I told her that I wasn't registering a complaint as a now grown up 5-year old.  As a matter of fact, I loved buttered potatoes and peas!  It was just that I had always kind of wondered.  She had a big smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes when she responded back to me.

"Oh Peggy Ann, didn't you ever figure it out?  With your dad and I, we had 9 mouths to feed each day.  Peas and potatoes were cheap to have on hand.  You ate that way because it was how we made out from paycheck to paycheck.  I'm glad you liked them!"

During that very same conversation, Mom went on to enlighten me as to the reason why we kids always had popcorn drizzled in salt and butter for our Saturday noontime meal.  It was a very similar explanation.  In those very early days, my father was a farmer and drove the milk truck on the route in the adjoining counties.  Payday was once a week on Saturday and by Friday night the cupboard at our house must have been a little bit bare.  Making a huge skillet of popcorn helped to fill our empty bellies until our father could get home with the groceries late in the afternoon on Saturday.  

7 years later we would move to our home in Haven, just up the road and into another county in south central Kansas.  There my parents would realize their lifelong dream of being business owners when Scott's Cafe and Service opened up in 1967.  There was always food aplenty and we never "wanted" for any thing to eat after that.  

I had to get much older before I was able to fully realize one thing.  Families go through good times together but they also endure some pretty lean ones as well.  My folks must have had plenty of tight times but I guess I didn't realize that was the case when they were going on.  It was just the way life was and my parents did the best they could.  All 7 of us kids learned early on that you can survive even the worst of situations really quite well.  It has been with a deep appreciation that I acquired that knowledge in my younger years.  It has served me well all of the days of my life.

You know, I'm glad that I was raised up in the way that I was.  We didn't have as much as others did but it really wasn't important.  We had enough and what more could a person ask for?

Not much.

That little tiny baby is now 60 years old.  We were well cared for and much loved.

I guess I should have eaten a couple of more helpings of peas and potatoes each meal.  I was a little on the "short side" back then.  Wait a minute.  I guess I'm still that way.  Hey, someone has to be on the front row.  Might as well have been me.

~and it was the year of changes for us~

     And so dear 2015, you are just about to leave us.  Two days more remain.  In lightning speed it came and went.  If that doesn't remind you about the fragility of life, then nothing does I suppose.  For the Renfro family, it has been quite a year to behold.

     Last year just about this time we had no earthly idea where the 365 days ahead would take us.  We were hunkered down into the Rocky Mountains of southwestern Colorado where Mike had been living for over 20 years.  I was well into my second year there and was teaching first graders just up the road about 10 miles in the beautiful little town of Olathe.  Were were set there or at least we thought so.  Our year of change was about to begin.

     On January 1st this year, Mike's step-mom Maggie died out in California.  She had been ill but we really didn't expect to lose her so quickly.  She was the most dear, kind, and loving woman.  I got the chance to meet her in March of 2014 when Mike and I spent several days with her during spring break from school.  When we say our good-byes it was with a promise that we would meet again later on in the fall of that year.  Maggie got sick soon after and we didn't get the chance to go back.  My one opportunity to meet her proved to be the only one and even if I received just that one chance, at least I had that one.

Maggie Renfro was a very special lady and I loved her from the moment I met her.  (March of 2014)

     When March came along, Mike and I began to have this feeling that it was time to make a change in life.  We started to believe that God was leading us to a different place and it ended up being a community far away from the mountains that we were living in.  Neither of us were sure at the time exactly where that place was going to be.  We only knew that the time was coming.  

     The place ended up being the great state of Texas.

     As I look back upon it now, we really did come in faith.  After looking at the atlas to determine what area we'd try to settle in, we came up with north central Texas.  In particular, we were interested in the Wichita Falls area.  Coming to that spot of the state would put us close to my sister and brother-in-law in Altus and Mike's sweet Aunt Margaret who lived in Olney.  It would be wonderful to have family members only a short drive away.

     Neither of us had the promise of a job but we went ahead to resign our positions back in Colorado.  When school dismissed for the final day of the year, I said a sad farewell to "the 22" and all of the wonderful folks who had become my family at Olathe Elementary.  I only stayed there for two years as a teacher but at least I had two years.  Those kind souls will always be close to my heart.

 I smile to see this picture once again.  Several of the little first grade girls were going to the basketball camp that the high school was hosting.  The next day, four of them brought their basketballs to school.  Looking at those basketballs was like seeing a glimpse into their very bright futures.

     The changes continued for us in Texas but Mike and I survived them all.  Many of those changes were challenges but it didn't deter us from making our way here.  As a matter of fact, those "bumps in the road" that we encountered only pointed us in the right direction.  It was the direction that we were to follow in the first place.  We just didn't know it at the time.

     We had a lovely summer of being close to Aunt Margaret.  Each weekend Mike and I would make the 45 minute drive to Olney to visit her where she was living at a nursing home.  We loved getting to see her and to learn more about Mike's family.  She was so grateful that we would make the long drive there and still was amazed that we lived so close to her now.  Our time together would prove to be very short.  5 months after we arrived here in her part of the world, Aunt Margaret passed away at the age of 91.  We didn't have much time with her but at least we had the summer.  

We loved her and she loved us.  I'm glad to have known her, if even for such a very short while.

     God has been good to us here in the state of Texas.  Mike found a job that he really loves as the manager of a hardware store in our community.  I found a teaching position at a wonderful school about 25 miles away and to think that half of year #38 is now complete is hard to imagine.  We believed there would be a spot for us somewhere and how glad I am that we patiently (ok, sometimes we weren't all that patient) waited.  In the right time, the real reason for our coming here was shown to us.  Kansas is just up the road a bit, a couple of houses down from the end in the Great Plains neighborhood.  I can get home to Reno County in about 5 hours or so and as much as I miss those dear people in the Colorado Rockies, it definitely beats a 12-hour journey over Monarch Pass.

     We are packing our things for one final move here to a home that we are buying on the other side of town.  Both of us are grateful that it is only 4 miles away and hopefully this move will be a piece of cake when compared to the 18-hour journey that we had to move here in late May.  It will be nice to really considered ourselves settled soon.
     
    And so what will 2016 bring for us?  I have absolutely no idea but that won't stop me from getting out of bed on Friday morning to find out.  Whatever it might be, the good or the not so good, we will embrace it.  I wish for all of you a most Happy New Year in 2016.  May it be full of goodness and grace for each of us.  

~and on the 361st day of the year~

From cold and wet Burkburnett, Texas~
Good morning dear friends and family!

The cold rain keeps right on coming down.  The temperature here is 34 and a quick look on the weather app of my phone indicates that it's now a mixture of rain and snow.  Yesterday morning about this time, the temperature was pushing upwards towards 70.  You would have thought it was summertime or something.  What a difference 24 hours can make.

Over in Altus, just an hour's drive or so away from us into Oklahoma, they are dealing with snow and sleet.  Freezing rain had been falling just yesterday evening and we hope the power is still on for those good folks.  Out west in Amarillo, it's blizzards and more blizzards all day long.  This morning when I awoke about 3:30, I was noticing the reports of tornadoes and flooding only a couple of hours drive away from us in this huge state.  Oh yes, add in an earthquake in the panhandle.  Of one thing we can be certain.

Life and the accompanying weather that goes with it in this great state of Texas will never be boring.

Yesterday Mike and I decided that we needed to find a snow shovel so we  went to one of the local stores in Wichita Falls and picked up one.  We hadn't made it to the counter before 3 different groups of people stopped us and asked why on earth we were buying it.  Both of us had to laugh to ourselves as we went to the counter to pay for it.  I'm a Kansan and Mike is a Coloradan.  We kind of like being prepared for the elements, should they arrive.  Whether or not we truly will need it remains to be seen.  If we do need it come tomorrow, then both of us will still be happy that we purchased it.  If we don't need it, that will work out fine as well.

I would be the first to admit that it looked rather out of place on our side of the block.  But hey, you never know when one will come in handy.

The weather is promising to be bad until tomorrow so there won't be much need to be heading out the front door at our house today.  It's a good day to stay inside!  "Santa" brought me several nice coloring books  (those stress relieving kinds) and I've already started to try and do a few of them.  One of them makes me think of my mom because of all the birds and flowers that are in it.  The pictures put me in mind so much of all the embroidery work that she used to do.  She loved to buy iron on transfers and would use pillow slip material or even dish towels to work with them.  Flowers and birds were her favorites.  I can still see her sitting there at home, embroidery hoop in one hand and a threaded needle in the other.  She received so much joy from creating beautiful pieces and then giving them away as gifts during birthdays or the Christmas season.  I'm so glad that I have several of them to remember her by.

Hey, I woke up this morning and couldn't go back to sleep.  So instead of remaining in bed, tossing and turning, I decided to get up and color.  It really is a stress reliever and actually kind of fun.  The nine-year old girl that still lives within me told me to tell you all that.

Half of our Christmas vacation is now over and soon it will be time to return to the classroom and be with "the 120".  I have missed them and look forward to seeing their smiling faces and hearing of what happened to them over the break.  In the days that remain, Mike and I have plenty to do as we prepare the rest of our things for moving and settling in at our new house.  Time will continue to fly by us.

Wherever you may find yourself on this 361st day of the year, I hope that you are well and safe from any bad weather.  Take care of yourselves, all of you.  You are my friends and without you, where would I be?

In a big world of hurt, that's where.

I kind of like having all of you around.  Be safe.  Be well.  Surely, be at peace.

~and we both listened to God's calling~

Merry Christmas morning from Altus, Oklahoma!

It's the very early morning hours and Santa has come and gone while we all slept. The house is quiet here at my sister's place, save for the occasional rustle of someone asleep in the living room.  Mike and I came here yesterday afternoon late to spend the night and be with our family just up the road a bit from Burkburnett.  It was one more step in the beginning of establishing new traditions this year.  

Moving from the mountains of southwestern Colorado down onto the plains of northern Texas has afforded me the chance to be a whole lot closer to my older sister Sherry.  Just like me, she was a teacher for over 4 decades.  It was from her,  not from the plethora of college classes that I took over the years, that I learned the fine art of teaching.  I have emulated her classroom style throughout the course of the past 38 years.  

Sherry St. Clair has been the greatest teacher I have ever had.
You will not convince me otherwise.

It seemed kind of funny last night to take the photo shown below.  Sherry, her daughter Brandy (also a teacher here in Texas), and I sat at the counter coloring and drawing.  I had received two coloring books for Christmas from Mike (those newfangled ones that entice you to throw away your worries and color for a bit) so I brought them along with me so that we could have fun together.  

Between the 3 of us and including Brandy's sister Mandy, also a teacher living in Florida, we have well over 110 years of teaching experience.  Crazy, isn't it?  We're all so young!  How could that be?  It's always fun to talk with the others and share the stories of what it is has been like to be a part of the most honorable profession there ever was.

~teacher~

This year Brandy is teaching art to little ones.  She is very talented and crafty, something she did not get from her Aunt Peggy.  It was so nice to receive a special, homemade gift from her this year.  Mike and I will treasure it for all of the years to come.  
Renfro  Est. 2013

Oh how time has flown by us all.  Seems like just two Christmases ago, that little girl and her sister were opening up their presents at Grandma Scott's house in Kansas.  They and all the other cousins would play for hours with the toys that Santa had brought them.  Their Aunt Peggy loved them then and one thing is for sure.

She loves them still today.

May you be blessed, dear friends and family, with a sweet Christmas Day and a very blessed, prosperous, and happy New Year in 2016.  Mike and I thank each of you for your friendship and love.

Two silly school teachers who thought that retiring was the road to travel back in 2010.  We learned rather quickly that it was not.  Both of us are grateful for the blessing of being called "teacher".  There is absolutely no other profession that we would have chosen.  Thank goodness we both listened to God's calling.

~and I am sure that I never will~

My mother and father have been on my mind today and not just a little bit either.  I've been thinking about them all morning long as I continue packing up our belongings in preparation for our move to a new home in 3 weeks more.

39 years ago this very evening, my folks and 5 other members of my family were sound asleep in their beds in our farmhouse just south of the town of Haven, Kansas.  Preparations for Christmas were all complete.  The tree that Dad had cut down from the pasture was decorated and on a table in the corner of the living room.  Mom made sure that presents for us all were placed around it.  No matter what, through good times as well as the lean ones, she always was determined that no one would be left out on Christmas morning.  She was just like that.

They went to bed late in the evening of December 23rd but were awoken by the smell of smoke that was filling the house in the early morning hours of Christmas Eve.  The house had caught fire from what was later determined to be a defect in the fire place insert that they had installed only a few months earlier.  In a matter of minutes, the entire house was ablaze.  In an hour, all that was left was a smoldering ruins.

Thankfully, everyone inside escaped with their lives.  All of the material possessions that my parents owned were reduced to ashes, yet it didn't matter.  The most precious of things, 8 human lives, were saved.  I have never forgotten that night nor the days that followed.  I am sure that I never will.

You know, if someone would ask me what my most special Christmas memory was, I am sure that I would respond that it was the night that the house burned down.  That may sound strange to some but to me it could not be any more the truth.  When you lose everything that you have but still save your life, why would it not be the best Christmas ever?  You will never convince me otherwise.

I have written about the fire nearly every Christmas since this blog was conceived, now over 4 years ago.  I went back today to look at a few of them and am reposting one below if you would care so to read.  As I read back over it, I had to smile.  It was written at a time when I was trying to pare down some of my own possessions.  I'd been thinking about doing so for a long time and was just in the beginning stages of it.  I liked the idea of "traveling light" and hey, I still do today.   Mike and I are going through our belongings once again.  If we really don't need it, it's going elsewhere.  It's kind of nice to be able to pick and choose what you really could do without and one thing is for sure.  It sure beats having to do it the hard way, the "trial by fire" way.

Take care dear friends and family.  I love you all~

Thursday, December 22, 2011

"trial by fire", learning the hard way how to travel light

Ok, before I begin, a fast "progress monitor" on my "do-over" of the homework assignment from yesterday's blog post.  From my living room, the 5 things I'd HATE to part with-my collection of  books written by my favorite author of all time, Garrison Keillor.  His writing style renewed my interest in recreational reading about 15 years ago.  The 5 things I COULD do without-5 books by authors Charles Kuralt and Tom Brokaw.  Realizing now that I bought them on the spur of the moment and was attracted to purchasing them in part due to the colorful book jackets they wore and were so "on sale" that they were almost given away.  Honestly friends, I never even cracked them open...not once.  They are free for the taking if you want them.  Now on to this idea of trial by fire and having to learn the very hard way of how to travel light.  


In my family there were lots of memorable dates that came and went.  Some of them marked the "good times" and others, well they marked times we all wish would never have happened.  One of those dates that we'd probably never thought would bring the "life changing" event that it did was December 24th, 1976~Christmas Eve.


On December 24th of that year I was a "newly wed" having been only married a month.  Rick and I were living in a mobile home at the edge of my hometown of Haven, Ks.  It had been fun to get ready for that first Christmas together and when we fell asleep late on the evening of December 23rd, our preparations were complete.


Three miles south of town, in a newly painted two-story farmhouse, my family was sleeping as well.   Mom and Dad in their room with my little 7-year old niece Kimberly asleep in her own bed between theirs.  Upstairs was my brother Dick in his room and my sister Sherry, her husband Wes, and their 3-year old daughter, Brandy asleep in my bedroom, only vacated by me the month before.


The traditional Scott family Christmas tree, cut down from the pasture only days before, was decorated and standing in the southeast corner of the living room, wrapped presents piled underneath it.  The fireplace had only a few hot coals left burning....all would appear was well.


In the early morning hours we heard it....noise and yelling outside.  Well, you know friends when someone is beating the heck on your front door at 4 in the morning then something is dreadfully "not right".  By the time we made it to the front door, we saw them.


My brother, Dick and sister, Sherry were standing on our front porch steps. And what was even more weird than seeing them at our house in the 'wee' morning hours was the fact that they were dressed in pajamas.  Unfortunately, it didn't take long to figure out what was going on.  My sister's simple 5 word exclamation "The house is on fire!" and the mammoth orange glow on the south eastern horizon told the story.


It didn't take that long, in all honesty, for that old farmhouse to go.  The fire started in the new fireplace, caught the back porch on fire and then quickly spread to the kitchen and the remaining seven rooms.  And out of the burning and smoke filled house, came the  people that would definitely have been in my "keeper" pile of my  "living lightly" assignment, my family.  Because my sister Sherry was pregnant with the little baby who was to be my niece Mandy, eight lives were spared that day.


The series of events that followed were filled with irony.  Daddy had this uncanny habit of carrying the set of keys for every vehicle that he owned on a key chain in the pockets of his work pants.  Luckily he found the pair of work pants quickly in the darkness and because the phone was already dead and gone, he went to his pick up to use his CB radio to call for help.  Daddy's radio handle was the "Bald Eagle" and it only took a couple of tries of calling for help before a trucker going by on 96 highway recognized who was screaming for assistance. The trucker notified the Haven Fire Department to get help.  But try as everyone might, it would be of no use.  The Haven fire truck only made it to the outskirts of town when the clutch went out.  Precious minutes flew by as they quickly got a second fire truck to pull the first one out to fight the blaze.  By the time we made it there from town, there was little to do but watch it go.  I will never forget the look of despair on my father's face....This big, strong and hard-working man who always put his family before himself and provided for them had to stand helplessly by as the fire finished engulfing everything inside.

What a "crash course" in travelling light looks like.  The aftermath, on Christmas Day 1976.  


Praise the good Lord above, miraculously no one died.  Except for some smoke inhalation, no major injuries befell anyone that day.  And you know even IF everything you ever owned was now reduced to a pile of ruins inside the deep abyss of the basement walls, well who really cared anyway?  Eight lives were spared that day...THOSE people lived to tell the story.


In as quickly as the house burnt to the ground, equally fast was the way in which friends and neighbors came to our family's aid.  Haven postmaster, Raleigh May, was the first one at the back door of our family's business, Scott's Cafe.  He pressed a check for $100 into my dad's hands, telling him he knew there would be more to come.  Man, was he ever right about that.  Food, clothing, furniture and household goods filled the back room of the cafe in the hours following.  Paul Grier, our local pharmacist, went down to fill my dad's numerous prescriptions for his heart ailment and would take absolutely NO money.  The Hempstid's opened their variety store and invited Mom to get anything they might need.  They too would take no payment. And these were just a couple of the many folks that helped.  Even now, 35 years later, the surviving members of the Scott family remember that little town with a humble and thankful heart.  If you HAVE to learn how to "travel light" in such an extreme manner, well you can only hope that it's in a place like Haven, Kansas.

My parents and grandmothers that Christmas Day of 1976~all four of them now gone from this earth.  I sure miss you guys!

As far as I'm concerned, a "miraculous" find amidst the ruins.  Not much bigger than a quarter, the duck shaped charm from my own baby bracelet.  The words "PEGGY ANN" were burnt off but the shape of the duck remained nearly perfect.  No doubt about it, friends, this goes into the "over my dead body" pile  :)

~and their names were Mr. and Mrs. Renfro~

     When Mike and I got married back at Lincoln Elementary on the last day of school in 2013, there were a couple of hundred children that attended our wedding.  They all remained back after the last bell rang at 3:30 and by the time Mike and I said our wedding vows underneath the most romantic basketball goal we could find, they were all sitting "criss-cross, applesauce" around us.  They were so good that we didn't even realize they were there.  It wasn't until we saw photos from the wedding that we noticed just how close to us they really were.

I told Mike when he married a teacher that not only did he get me, he also got about 200 children who came along with the deal.  He soon understood what I meant.

     We moved to Colorado after the wedding and thankfully I found a position teaching at a wonderful school just up the road aways from our home in Montrose.  For the homesick and lonely newlywed that I was, it was like the best gift and the greatest blessing that I could have asked for.  My first year of teaching was with a classroom of 4th graders and they soon learned about Mr. Renfro.  He was the "giver of the snacks" and if you ever ask any of those 9 and 10-year old students, they'd tell you exactly what I meant  by that.  No belly ever felt hungry for long during the course of a nearly 8-hour school day because Mike saw to it that I had plenty of crackers and cookies for them to nibble on.  

One of those sweet 4th graders even invited us to his house for Easter dinner that year because they knew that we had no family in the area.  We may not have been related by blood but we sure feel like a part of the Fletcher family anyways!

                               Mr. Renfro and "the 18"~2013-14 school year

     The next year I had a class of first graders.  They were 22 of the sweetest 6 and 7-year olds that one could ask for.  They knew their "Mr. Renfro" too.  Not only did he make sure that they had snacks to fill up their growling tummies, he also made sure that they didn't want for school supplies either.  Countless glue sticks, pencils, stickers, and markers were purchased by him in weekly runs to the local Walmart.  I promised them, just as I had the 4th graders the year before, that whatever they needed to have a successful day in school, we would provide for them.  No matter what and no questions asked. 

     

One of "the 22", our dear little Scarlett, spent a Saturday with us before we moved away to Texas.  We were busy shopping in Grand Junction and they just needed to sit down and rest their feet a bit.

     This has been the year of "the 120+" and most of the kids at my new school had only heard about Mr. Renfro and seen his photo on my desk at school.  They hear a lot about him, much the same as children heard back in the mountains of Colorado.  It is Mr. Renfro who makes sure that whatever they need to be successful students is provided for them.  In particular, this has been the year of "the pencil".  We tend to go through a whole lot of them but after all, I do teach writing.  Mike came to our Christmas program this past Thursday and had the chance to meet many of the kids who were there.  One of them in particular had the strangest of looks on his face when he said,

"So THAT'S Mr. Renfro!  I've been wondering."

My years as a teacher will soon have to wind down.  I'm still trying to attain my goal of 40 years in the classroom and with only two more years after this one to go, I pray to make it.  At the age I am now, it's a given that I probably won't be around to see these young people grow up and begin families of their own.  But whether I am or not, I hope that they will always remember one thing.  I hope they will remember that once there was this couple who loved them all very much.

And their names were Mr. and Mrs. Renfro.

May 21, 2013~Lincoln Elementary-Hutchinson, Kansas after we were married.

November 27, 2013~Montrose, Colorado in our front yard.

July 1, 2015~at home in Burkburnett, Texas.

~a look back~

     It seems strange on this first full day of Christmas vacation to not have to worry about packing up the car and heading east towards "home" in Kansas for our family celebration.  Mike and I both decided that this year we would remain here in Texas and officially celebrate our first Christmas at our own home.  We are looking forward to a good day and the beginning of new traditions.  

     When Mike and I got married in May of 2013, we made our home together in the mountains of southwestern Colorado.  It was a journey of over 600 miles to return to the Midwest for the holidays but that didn't matter to me.  I was homesick, dreadfully homesick.  I had never missed a Christmas in Kansas yet and I wasn't about to start.   

    This Kansas farm girl was not going to celebrate Christmas anywhere else.  And I meant it!  I was going to cross over the 11,000 feet+ summit at Monarch Pass on skis if I had to.  Thankfully that didn't ever have to happen.

     I was looking back at blog posts from a year ago this day and came across what I had written on the 19th day of December, 2014.  I could tell, just by reading my words, how much I had grown as a person in the 18 months span of time that I had lived there in Colorado.  I finally recognized just how wonderful it was to have friends and family in two different states.  I didn't have to worry about being homesick for Kansas any longer and believe me when I say it.  What a nice feeling that really was.

     Now we have bid farewell to Colorado as well as Kansas.  Our new home is here on the plains of northern Texas.  We have found that there are great people here too and they have become our friends and family.  Wherever we have been, the good Lord above has taken care of us.  We have exactly what we need and home is truly where the heart is.

     From one year ago today....the best of both worlds.

Friday, December 19, 2014

~the best of both worlds~

The way I look at it, I really do have the best of both worlds in my life.

On one hand, there's Kansas and on the other, there's Colorado.

     We are going home TODAY to the place that I was born in, raised up in, and spent well over half of a century of my life in.  When I left Hutchinson, Kansas back in May of 2013, it was because I had just gotten married and moved to the place where my husband Mike called "home".  It was a rude awakening at first, a real culture shock to find myself in a land that seemed like a foreign country rather than the next door neighbor's house.  It was worse than tough at first and for weeks on end in my heart I would be so lonesome for the place that I had known all too well.  I was not sure that I could make it and please believe me when I tell you that many, many times I was ready to go back.  To give up seemed to be the best way to cure my homesickness.  

Yet, I did not.
I hunkered down and stayed the course here.

     I have said before on so many occasions and I am sure that I will say again in the future, Mike and I will always be beholden to the people of a small rural community called Olathe, Colorado for saving us from a whole lot of heartache. In particular, the good people who love and take care of the children of Olathe Elementary are at the top of my "thank you" list.  They helped me to find my niche here and it was not a moment too soon.  

     Today is our last day of school for the year of 2014 and with well over 2 weeks off until we come back in January, it will be a while before we meet up with one another as a school community again.  I have grown so accustomed to being with them each day and I will miss them when we are gone.  Their smiles, words of encouragement, and genuine caring for one another helped a very lonely and forlorn Kansan begin to feel at home in the Rocky Mountains.    And to those people I would say~

"You saved me!  Really.  You saved me."
     Just as soon as we can get on the road this afternoon we will be headed home to Kansas.  I have been waiting for weeks for this day to arrive and now that it has, I cannot imagine how fast the time surely did fly by us.  My heart is so glad that I can see my family and friends once again.  Oh how I have missed them!  There is much that Mike and I wish to do while we are there.  How I give thanks for being able to go back at this most blessed holiday season.  

     When the time is through there and we will once again return here to southwestern Colorado, I know I will miss them all once again.  But it's not like I am from Rhode Island for crying out loud.  Kansas is just down the block aways from Colorado and for all intents and purposes it's not so far away at all.  

     So whether I am on the prairie or in the mountains, the way I look at it is this.  My life has been most blessed by the people who have loved me in spite of myself.  For the folks who never gave up on me, even when I had many times given up on myself, I owe a debt of gratitude.  I hope some day to return the favor to you and pay it forward on your behalf.  

     I'm going home today to celebrate with my Kansas family and friends.  I'm coming back in January to celebrate with my Colorado family and friends.  It's the best of both worlds I tell you.  The best of both worlds.

     Wishing for you all a very Merry Christmas wherever you may be.  May the world find peace in 2015.  I love you guys, one and all.

~of the people and the places that you love~

The last half day of school before we all leave for Christmas break has arrived.  Children and adults alike are ready for it.  Hey, I think it would be ok to say that we are all more than ready for it.  For as quickly as the first 18 weeks of school have gone, this wintertime 2-week vacation has been a long time in coming.  

This has been a fast first semester.  I remember as a kid how school seemed to drag on and on and on.  Sometimes I wish I could go back for a moment in time and tell the little girl that I used to be that she shouldn't want life to go so quickly.  

I was reminded of that "little girl" this week when I saw some photos that had been taken by my art teacher at Haven Grade School, Mrs. Houchen.  They were old black and white ones with the date stamp of August of 1967 on them.  It was a lot of fun to look through them and try to identify the kids from the days of my youth back there in south-central Kansas.  

One in particular caught my eye and when I saw it, my heart swelled.  It was a photo of several sixth grade girls sitting on the ground.  When I saw myself in the picture, I could have nearly cried.  The quiet and very shy little girl that I used to be was sitting right there in the picture.  I had not seen a photo of myself at that age in nearly 40 years.  It was a surely a blessing to see it after all this time had gone by.

There I was, wearing a sleeveless dress that I vaguely remember.  My dark hair was short and its usual straight self.  I didn't have much of a smile on my face but perhaps it was because I was listening intently to what my teacher was telling me to do :)  Those little girls from a time so long ago were all a part of my life.  Thankfully I still am in touch with several of them today.  It was a good life, all things considered.

Today I am older.  As a matter of fact, I'm about 48 years older.  Images like these are really priceless to me.  Most of the pictures of me from my childhood were lost in the house fire that my folks went through back on Christmas Eve of 1976.  Whenever I have the chance to see snapshots that depict anything of life before that fire happened, I hang on to them tightly.  They mean so much now.  Their value is priceless.

I am a photographer of anything that surrounds me.  Sometimes I think that perhaps I am taking way too many photos, as evidenced by the massive amount of them that always seem to fill my phone's camera storage area.  Yet after realizing just how much the picture above means to me, I have come to a conclusion.

I suddenly don't think I take too many pictures after all.  

Happy Friday everyone out there~
Take a photo today of the people and the places that you love.
You won't regret it if you do but you might regret it if you don't.

~and with a library card you can do anything~

I've often admired this sign near the railroad tracks that run through the town we now live in on the plains of northern Texas.  There's just something about it that catches my eye every time I go by it.  Perhaps it is because the name of my home state of Kansas is emblazoned on it.  Maybe it's because I love the sound of a train as it comes racing through each day.  Whatever it is, I like this sign.  Oh yes, one another thing.

I like Burkburnett.

The "lion's share" of my life so far was spent in the same county in south central Kansas.  Reno County, in particular the city of Hutchinson, was the place I considered myself at home.  My hometown of Haven was only a few miles down the road towards Wichita.  The city of my birth, Newton, was only 30 miles to the east in Harvey County, Kansas.  For 57 years, I pretty much just stayed put and that was ok with me.

In May of 2013, Mike and I got married on the last day of school back in Hutch and 2 days later we were on the road toward a new life in the southwestern Colorado city of Montrose.  In May of 2015, we decided it was time for a change so we packed up everything that we could and came here.  This community was never even on our list of "top 10 places to live in before we die".  As a matter of fact, I'd never even been here but I knew that my father had cut crops near Burkburnett for many years with his custom combining business.  He hauled the harvested grain to the elevator here in town.

When our original plans fell through to make our home in Wichita Falls, we had to decide very quickly which way to go.  It was literally a moment of choosing whether to head towards Henrietta or Burkburnett.  At first, Mike started out towards Henrietta but we hadn't even made it a mile down the road before I told him to turn around and go to Burkburnett first.

The rest is history.

After nigh onto 8 months of being here, I can say that finally I can figure out where on earth most things are around here.  There are several churches, a great grocery store, lots of shops to visit, a beautiful water park, and the best hardware store ever!   I made acquaintance with the public library from the get go because my good friend Dennis says you can do ANYTHING if you have a library card.  So I got one and he was right.  I could do anything.

8 months later, here we are.
Alive and well~
Thriving and surviving in "the land of where you can see forever and ever" AMEN!

Happy Thursday evening everyone out there.  Take care and be at peace with life.  Thinking of you all.

~we were~

Yesterday at school, one of the kids was checking out a book from the history section of the library.  I'm not exactly sure what it was about, but on the front was a photograph of the Hindenburg disaster of 1937.  The old black and white picture showed that massive air ship bursting into flames.  The young person who was looking at it asked me the most remarkable question.

"Oh man!  Mrs. Renfro did you know about this? Were you alive back then?"

 My answer was brief and to the point.

"No.  That was about 20 years before my time."

I guess it could have been worse.  It might have been a book about the Civil War.  You know?
Art Linkletter was right.  Kids say the darnedest things.

At age 60, I have definitely been around for a couple of years.  38 years of teaching, nearly all of them back in my home state of Kansas, have provided me with the opportunity to meet and teach hundreds of children over time.  I've heard children say the dearest of things to me with many of them referring to something that might have been a bit on the sensitive side at first.  I've been asked about the wrinkles on my face and how old I am.  I never avoid those questions, rather I will always tell someone my age if they can solve the math problem to find out.  It's a "win, win" situation.  They find out how old their teacher is and I get them to practice math in order to do so.  At first it kind of bothered me. Yet as the days went on, I always began to accept those innocent inquiries in the spirit in which they were given.

Once back in Kansas, there was a little girl who always liked to come up and rub my arms when I was reading to the class.  It went on for a while before I finally became too curious and asked her why she always did that.  She replied back to me.

"Teacher, I just love the way your grandma skin feels."

Well, ok then.

Back in the mountains of Colorado, there was the sweetest little first grade boy who stole my heart.  He would always be insistent that if I needed help carrying something, I would make sure to ask him to help me.  He knew about "old lefty" and didn't want me to ever get hurt again.  Every day before he went home, that young man would come up to me and give me the biggest hug.  That little guy would always leave with the same promise~He would return the next day.   I can still hear his little voice as he sped out of the doorway.

"I'm always gonna help you Mrs. Renfro because you are getting older now.  I love you!"

And I loved him too.

Being a teacher over the past nearly 4 decades has afforded me the opportunity to become a part of the lives of many children.  Teaching has not made me a wealthy woman, well at least in terms of dollars and cents.  But it has provided me with riches that go far beyond what the deposit in my bank account looks like and you know what?  

I believe I can live with that.

May 21, 2013
Back home in Hutchinson, Kansas at Lincoln Elementary.  Mike and I got married on the last day of school in the gymnasium of the school.  It was the last day for me to be a teacher there and we wanted all the kids to be a part of the wedding.  This little fellow was showing me he had lost a tooth and I was telling all of them to keep reading over the summer :)

Not everyone is lucky enough to get married under a basketball goal with about 200 of the greatest kids ever present in the audience.  We were!

One of the first little kids that I taught grew up to be a pretty good real estate salesman.  I love that little boy!

~and it's called "sticking together"~

It seems hard to believe that the month of December, this final 31 day stretch in the year of 2015, will soon be over.  I've said it a thousand times.  No, I take that back.  I have said it a gazillion.

Where on earth does all this time go?  

The answer is pretty simple.

It's called "life".

We began this year 800 miles away from where we are now.  The Rocky Mountains of southwestern Colorado were the backdrop of our everyday life.  Mike and I shall end this year in a much different kind of place.  We live on the northern plains of Texas now and it is here that we are putting down our roots for the final segment of our lives.  There is no intention for us to ever have to move again.

For sure.
At least we hope.

I've been looking through all of the photos that I've taken this year and how thankful I am that I took each one of them.  There is a story behind all of them and if the age old adage "every picture is worth a thousand words" is true, then those photos have quite a story to tell.  

They tell of the lives of two kids from "the land of long ago and far, far away".  For the year 2015, we made a lot of memories.  For those precious memories, we do give our thanks.

So here it is in that proverbial "nutshell".
2015

January~We made the journey to Ouray, a quaint mountain community about an hour away from Montrose, to see the ice climbing contest.  Mike and I had first made the trip there in 2013 and found out how fun it was to watch the climbers scaling the ice covered canyon walls.  

February~We headed west towards southern California to attend the memorial services for Mike's dear and sweet step-mom, Maggie.  While we were there we went to the Joshua Tree National Park where I saw the biggest tree I'd ever seen.

March~The Colorado weather was surprisingly nice for that time of year.  We took advantage of it and walked many of the paths that surround the city of Montrose.  It was nice to get out into the fresh air and have a great time together.

April~We made the decision to leave our beautiful surroundings in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado for a new life over 800 miles away on the plains of northern Texas.  Neither of us had a job prospect but we went in the faith that something was waiting for us there to be a part of.  It was time to pack up.

May~The day finally came and with the help of friends who had literally become just like our own family members here, the moving truck was loaded up.  It was tough to say "good-bye".  We were sad to leave everyone behind but anxious to see what the road ahead would have to offer us.  

June, July, and August~We settled in the small community of Burkburnett.  The five-year drought had ended and all that remained of the big flood that brought it to its conclusion were the stories that folks around here told of it.  Mike and Sally soon found a place to take their walks each and every day.  Sunflowers and wildflowers grew along the sides of the road.  It was a beautiful combination and we found ourselves enjoying life in "the land of where you can see forever and ever, AMEN!"

September, October, November~
As fall arrived and then moved towards the start of winter, we realized all of our many blessings.  Mike and I spent one Sunday morning at Lake Arrowhead and saw firsthand the beauty of what happens when 5 long years of a horrible drought comes to a merciful end.  I was able to sell my home back in Hutchinson with the help of a young man who used to call me "teacher".  In November, we set two more places at the table for young airmen from the nearby base.  Both of us gave thanks for finding good jobs that we love doing here.  Mike manages the new hardware store in town and I'm enjoying my 38th year as a teacher in nearby Petrolia.

And now it is December 15th and here we are with absolutely no idea of what lies ahead in the future.  Hey, we don't even know what is in store for us this very day.  Yet the same faith that drove us here now nearly 8 months ago continues to live within us.  The same plan that Mike and I left the mountains with sustains us here today.

We just figure to keep on holding hands tightly.
It's called "sticking together". 

~to have enough~

I like the concept of having "just enough".
Not more than and surely not less than either.
Life has had this way for me of evening itself out.

I sold my home back in Hutchinson a month ago.  I didn't get what I was hoping to get for it but the great thing was that I got just "enough".  I could finish paying off my mortgage and rid myself of the worry that taking care of a home when you live 400 miles away from it can bring.  No more need to call Roto-Rooter when the sewer backed up.  No more fear of the pipes somehow freezing up in the winter.  No more concern about when a Kansas severe storm would strike and bring with it the winds and hail that could damage property.

No more.

When Mike and I first moved here back in late May, it was never our dream to locate in Burkburnett.  We were headed towards Wichita Falls, a city just down the road a ways from where we are now.  That plan fell through and it was necessary to make a complete change of direction.  Thankfully we went 10 miles to the north, near the Red River and the border of Oklahoma.  In 24 hours after not being able to move into the house we originally had figured to, we were fortunate enough to find the home we have now lived in for 7 months.  

It was not in our original plans but when you have a moving truck filled with your belongings and two pets who are ready to secretly begin to "riot", you do what you have to do.  This little house was open and available for rent, so we moved in only a day after arriving in Texas.

It really was just enough.

We hadn't planned to buy a home until we were sure that this is where we wanted to stay.  Neither of us came with a job prospect in hand.  Faith in the belief that there was a good reason for us to be here was the only driving force that made us leave our old home in the Rocky Mountains of southwestern Colorado.

Now that we have been here for nearly 8 months, we realize that it's where we intend to settle and a great place to be.  In just a few weeks more, it will be time for us to move once again.  We have found a home to purchase right here on the outskirts of town and we will be spending the next couple of weeks packing up our belongings.  Thankfully this time we don't have 800 miles and one 11,000+feet summit to pass over in the journey.  Our new home will be only 4 miles from the one we currently are living in.

It is not fancy but to us it is beautiful.  It was created in the same year that I was~1955.  There will be no swimming pool in the half acre backyard but I half jokingly/half seriously told Mike that there is plenty of room to build the "tiny house" that I have always wanted.  Our new home will be our place to grow older together in and as luck would have it, it offers the thing we were most looking for.

It has just enough.

May 27, 2015~the day that this great adventure began as we left behind the friends who had become our "family" in the Rocky Mountains of southwestern Colorado.  Seems like so long ago now to see them all.  We miss them and love them always.