First Day of School!

This year I have two little students! Emry is now in the second grade. Which is a lot more work than first! Especially in the category of writing. Which is not anywhere near Emry’s alley. Numbers she’s okay with. Writing words and sentences? Not so much. 

 

Emry – 2^ndgrade!

 

And Ethan is in Kindergarten. He is ecstatic! Finally, he gets school books, and time just with Mama, and flash cards! Boy, was he excited when the flash cards came out! Like his sister, he’s more into numbers than words. 

 

My mom despaired of having a lover of math. I despair of having a lover of words!

 

Ethan – Kindergarten!

Old Toys

It’s been at least a year since I climbed up in my parents’ attic and pulled out my box of My Little Ponies for Emry. As I pulled them out I thought two things: 1) I am so glad I made a list of all their names because I have completely forgotten most of them, and 2) their hair could really use some work. But aside from the ones that are easy to brush, not much has been done in that area.

 

Several months ago, after lots of begging, I climbed up in the attic yet again and pulled out all my Barbies and miscellaneous other dolls. Again, I thought the same two things: 1) I’m so glad I kept a list of names, and 2) that hair really needs help!

 

Thirty years ago when Katey and I spent hours in our bedroom playing with our ponies, Barbies, and sundry there was no such thing as Google, YouTube, and Pinterest on which you can find just about DIY imaginable. So, while Katey and I were careful to brush and arrange hair and clothes before packing our toys away for good, 25 or 30 years in a box doesn’t keep toys pristine. But now I do have Pinterest…on an app on my phone no less…where a quick search of Barbie hair brings up a million pins on how to get one’s doll’s hair to look all-natural! And while their hair will never be as soft, golden, or perfect as right out of the box; I will say they all look much improved.

 

But, boy, was that a process. Like spending 24-hours at a Barbie spa! I am grateful that most of the ones I have don’t have dozens of curls. A simple wash, more complicated brush, and an overnight dry was about all of them required. Then the hair could be once again styled. But a couple did require “curlers” of straws and bobby pins or pipe cleaners. Now I remember why I didn’t become a beautician.

 

Next step is try to fix the heads of those that don’t stay on. That’s not going to be as easy and, surprisingly, there are not as many pins on that. But I am going to try. Right after I have a 24-hour My Little Pony spa. Which will be more like 48-hours. Because I have twice as many ponies. And most of them dohave curls. Ringlets of curls! That’s going to be fun!

Off to Grandpa and Grandma's

This past week Grandpa and Grandma have been in New Hampshire visiting cousins Jay and Curtis. (Not Katey or Scott, of course. To my kids New Hampshire means Jay and Curtis…and a boat…and the beach…and the creek…and frogs…not aunts and uncles because they’re adults and boring.) When Grandpa and Grandma are in New Hampshire, it means we get to go to their house and enjoy a massive amount of play space! Not to mention an upstairs!

 

So, even though we half started school this week (Ethan has a full load but Emry only half), it’s been a good start to the week. Lots of outdoors to run in, a swingset, an upstairs where we can sleep, and lots of plants to water (and so put on swimsuits and get drenched). It’s like a vacation without going very far.

 

Ellyson, thankfully, has not discovered the staircase. However, she would spend half her day in the swing and the other half being escorted around in the Power Wheels police truck. She has also decided that her five cousins did not do enough exploring of Grandma’s cabinets and got into one they never ventured into, leading to a broken china cup. She also loves the Baby Shark towel Grandma got her for trips to Grandma’s, dancing every time I pull it out to get her out of the tub.

 

Emry simply likes the space. She explores, discovered the baby doll crib upstairs and that Grandma has a doll for it, and hides away playing with my old Little People for hours. She also loves sleeping upstairs. (Her dream house has an upstairs.) She takes care of Gus, the old dog. And when she does get frustrated at something, she has a massive lawn to run with all her might across and then sit down and pout until she feels better. Next to drawing, sprinting is her form of relief. 

 

Ethan has, thus far, lost two balls somewhere in the huge garage. Not surprisingly, he has no clue which direction they went. He likes to be out with Ed throwing balls or Frisbees. They’ve even set up Frisbee bases and “play” baseball. With more space to play (and no fences to worry about loosing things over), tossing things around is more enjoyable.

 

Yea for Grandma and Grandpa’s!

 

Emry, Ethan and Ellyson on the swingset.

 

Emry, Ethan and Ellyson enjoying rides – especially Ellyson!

To my Baby Sister

Today my baby sister turns 28. Twenty-eight. Such a tender young age! Wish I were 28 again!

 

Perhaps if we had known more Abigails before she was born, my dad would have decided against the name. Now I hear someone who has a child named Abigail and I say, “Poor you.” And they look at me like, “How did you know?” Firebrand, right? Yeah. 

 

And if we had known that we would end up calling her “Charlie”, perhaps we would have just named her that anyway.

 

Don’t ask. It started as a family joke. And stuck.

 

To be honest, I don’t recall a lot about the time Abby was born. Except that Dad didn’t turn off his alarm clock before he left for the hospital. At 5:30 I woke up (knowing they were gone and Mrs. Mann was downstairs on the couch), realized it wasn’t going to go off by itself, and stumbled across the hall to turn it off. At least I hoped I had actually gotten it off. Dad used those old wind up things. But it didn’t go off again, so I got a couple of more hours of sleep.

 

I also remember that we had just had a bout of the chicken pox in our house. Since Katey, Daniel, Sally and I had all had them, it was Grace’s turn. And Jenny’s. But we’ve never been sure Jenny actually had them. She had a few itchy spots, but it was August. They could have just been bug bites. Still, we couldn’t let her go into the hospital. (Although maybe if we had known about the miraculous virus catchers known as masks…but it would be another 27 years before that great discovery. I know, sarcasm knows no bounds.) So, Katey and I waited with Jenny in the car while everyone else went in. Then Dad let Katey and I go in by ourselves.I was 13 years old. Katey was almost 11. We got up to the room okay, but I got totally turned around coming down and ended up in a elevator that went down to staff areas. Thankfully no one caught us and the one hallway led right to the entrance we had come in.

 

Fitbits had yet to be discovered (although they would be before masks), but I’m pretty sure my heart was racing.

 

I suppose by the time Abby came around, another sister was just another sister. I mean, there were now six of us girls. I don’t remember a lot of novel things about her as a toddler, except how she would come up to you, book in hand, turn around, and back up into your lap. Then you had no choice but to read to her. Right? Apparently not, and I read to Abby aloud for years. Sure, she struggled to learn to read, but I think she really just didn’t want to. Why should she? Everyone read to her. I enjoyed it.

 

 With Abby, none of us apparently had a lot of choices. For one, she let us know exactly what we should be doing, when, how, and where. The why was always allusive, but she never cared. If you were given her as a partner to do chores with, you soon realized you were doing the chore alone and she had disappeared. I don’t know how she did it, but she had that art mastered. She could also pick your pockets. 

 

She wanted to be an attorney. I think we were pretty sure she was headed in a different direction.

 

To this day, Abby is still the best person in the room to pick on. She states every opinion she has emphatically and will argue you to the death even if she realizes she’s wrong. All you have to do is take the board game from the box, and she’s on fire to run you over in her race to win. She doesn’t even have to know how to play the game. She’s easy to rile and Caleb teases her until she’s red in the face. But she’s tough. She’s good at what she does, and she’s not afraid to fight the right fight even if she knows she’ll loose. She’s also got a really cute kid. 

 

I’m not sure God gave me my baby sister because I needed the direction she thought I did, but I’m glad He gave her to us anyhow. I have a feeling having her as a sister has somewhat prepared me for having Ellyson as a daughter…

Oh, the Places I have Lived! - An Interlude

It seems only fitting to take a pause in my house adventures and discuss what the Sturm family does when it doesn’t have a house to live in.

 

When we moved from Texas back up to New Hampshire in July of 1999, we didn’t have a place to move into. Dad had been unable to find a rental home, but he needed to start work. And his company paid to have us put up in a hotel until we did find a house. So, our stuff went into storage and we moved into two upper story rooms of a hotel in Nashua, NH. Us, a beagle, two cats, at least six kittens, and two rabbits that would have bunnies while we were there. And lest you think we were totally insane, the rabbits were kept in cages hidden under some bushes outside the hotel.

 

So, yes, only partially insane.

 

We were there for a month, enough time for those kittens to grow up and escape every time we opened the hotel room’s door. In a lot of ways, I don’t remember much about it. Except there was hardly anything on the television the first week outside coverage of the missing JFK, Jr. We learned to cook enough stuff in a coffee pot we thought about writing a book on it (noodles, corn, other vegetables). We ate at the same Chinese restaurant every weekend until they simply prepared the table in advance. And we drove each other crazy. Yeah. That would about cover it.

 

Our next house was located in Manchester, in a tiny slit of the town cut out between Litchfield and Londonderry. If we have a picture of it, I can’t find it. It was a decent house, but only three bedrooms. We blocked off one of the living areas with the piano and called it my parents’ bedroom, which was still wide open to the kitchen. It had a central vacuuming system which was certainly a new concept to us. I can’t say any of us were so impressed we would want one. After all, vacuuming is vacuuming. But it was on a quiet cul-de-sac in a nice neighborhood, we had good neighbors, the yard was a decent size, and we had some good times there. But we only had it for a year, which turned into 13 months, and then we found ourselves once again without a home.

 

This time we didn’t have anyone to pay for a hotel, so our faith was in the Lord providing a roof over our heads. First, we headed to upper peninsula Michigan. My dad and Daniel were going to a camp up there, and we went along for the ride. For one, we had no where else to go. And, two, we had already planned to meet my grandparents up there and see where my grandmother had grown up. In a town there is literally in the middle of nowhere. Aside from the fact that it had a Polish community, I’m not sure why my great-grandparents decided to make their home there. But they did, and we met the infamous Aunt Paula (who, much to my surprise, did not have the horns of a devil) and Aunt Mary, my grandmother’s two sisters who still lived on the family farm. And saw the acreage my grandmother received in her father’s will: property no one wants but she was always quite proud of. All in all, it was an experience to see a place no one ever visits and rather fun (especially watching the bear outside our cabin one night trying to open a mayonnaise jar we had thrown away). Between that and the journey back, we saw four of the five great lakes and the beautiful Thousand Island region of New York – an area I would love to visit again.

 

But then we were back in New Hampshire, scrambling to find a place to live. We needed to get our pets back from friends, everything except what we absolutely needed was in our van, and we managed a couple of nights in a hotel. Thankfully, our church had connections with a place called the Sarto Center. The denomination used it to house church groups that came up in the summer to help in various ways around the region. But it was October, and the owners were happy to rent out a couple of rooms for a few weeks until they had a retreat group using it. We could also use the kitchen and main room. It wasn’t a very charming place, but it was warm and dry. We moved in.

 

And we weren’t the only ones. Also living there was a young church planter, his wife, and their little 2-year-old from Georgia who were also looking for a place to live. We became great friends, although we may have darkened poor Brandton’s soul teaching him to play Spoons with a real deck of cards. (Like I said, they were from Georgia.) And, by a date mix-up, ended up there at the same time of the retreat we were supposed to avoid. But those ladies didn’t need all the rooms. And they didn’t mind sharing the place. In fact, we all had a great weekend retreat together! We also found our new home.

 

However, before everything closed on the house and the present owners could move out, we also needed to leave the Sarto Center to allow for another retreat that did need all the space. We were able to rent a couple of rooms in west New Hampshire at a tiny Bible college tucked into the Mount Monadnock region through the president who dad knew through homeschooling connections. Although we were still living with bare necessities in small spaces and getting very tired of it (and each other), it was a beautiful place to be in October! The foliage was breathtaking, the mornings cool and crisp, the walks gorgeous. And we discovered the best old used bookstore in all of New Hampshire not ten minutes down the road. (Plus the hotdog stand in the parking lot.) It we had to be homeless for one more week, it was a wonderful place to be.

 

And, then, my whole life changed. We moved into a house we actually owned and would stay in for EIGHT WHOLE YEARS. 

 

A record I have yet to break…

Oh, the Places I have Lived! - Part 8

In 1996, we headed back to Texas. I’m not sure that anyone outside my dad and Katey (who had been born there and Texans are Texans) was very excited about that. I know I wasn’t. Leaving a place where the heat was still kicking on at night and then arriving at a place already nearing 100 degree temps….yeah, “excited” was not a word that came to mind. Miserable maybe. But not excited.

 

The rental house dad just managed to find for us didn’t help. Four bedrooms was a stretch of the imagination. Technically, my four youngest sisters were in the garage that had mostly been turned into a bedroom – a room just large enough for their two sets of bunks and space to walk around them. My brothers were in a room that could have been an office? I don’t know. What do you call a room off the living room that has French doors for an entrance? And because only the crib fit, Daniel slept on the floor until Caleb could sleep in a big bed and a set of bunks was squeezed in. So only Katey and I and my parents had real bedrooms. And when Katey took up chalk art, we had to duck under the easel to open the closet and pull out our clothes. An air conditioner that couldn’t keep up, a kitchen only three of us fit in in a pinch…at least the house had two bathrooms!

 

That house on Mistywood Lane in Denton was better left forgotten, I suppose, because I’m not sure any of us have a picture of it. We lived there for a year and several months. Then my parents came to the decision it was time to actually purchase a house. To this day, I’m not sure how my dad convinced my mom of that. But it happened. For the first time in nearly nine years, we moved into a house that was actually ours. A ranch house on the cul-de-sac of Springbrook Street in Corinth. The same little town we had moved from a dozen years before. In fact, it was one mile from that house my grandparents lived in.

 

Technically, it was a 3 bedroom house. My parents had the master bedroom, the boys had another bedroom, and Katey and I had the one across from that. But it had two other rooms we made into bedrooms. One was probably supposed to be a dining room as it set between the entry hall and kitchen. However, the kitchen had a “breakfast nook” big enough for our dining room table. And who wants a dining room with a carpeted floor, especially with eight kids? So, a couple of accordion doors on each side made it into a bedroom for Sally and Grace. The other room between the living area and what was our dining room was a second living space or office, I guess. We never put a door on that large entry, but Jenny was 5 and Abby was about 4 when we moved in, so they didn’t need a door. For the time, it worked.

 

Personally, I was just happy my room no longer doubled as an art studio, especially since Katey’s chosen form of art at that time was chalk which is nothing if not dusty. We had a huge garage that suited very well for that, although quite hot in the summer. The bedroom even had room for a desk, a longed for desire I finally got on my 18^thbirthday, although it was not a rolltop. We had even been told we could paint it/decorate it anyway we wanted. Which wasn’t exactly true since Dad wouldn’t let us paint a wall in that house any other color than white. But it did have a border. And it was probably just as well. I doubt Katey and I could have ever agreed on something we both liked.

 

By and large, it wasn’t the dream house any of us imagined. We were grateful it was on a cul-de-sac for bike riding and had an empty lot next door because the backyard didn’t have much room (or grass) for playing. And being that it was in Texas… Still, we made some good memories in that home we had for a few months short of two years.  For the first time since starting piano lessons at age eight, Katey got a real piano. There were the chickens, including one named Elizabeth. When learning to drive, I hit the mailbox. I had my high school graduation party at that house. And we filled it to overflowing for Christmas parties. Lots of friends, lots of basketball, lots of kittens, and lots of runaway pet mice. It was a good home.

 

But then we headed back to New Hampshire!

 

Springbrook Road – Corinth, TX

Soccer!

It’s that time of year again…where for two weeks straight my personal inbox has influx of sport information. Between soccer and dance, I feel like I reach information overload until Emry could potentially show up at dance class in cleats. But then I talk to other parents who have a kid or two older than any of mine and they talk about all their sports…well, I’m left to being grateful that soccer is only on Saturdays for two months and dance is only one day a week with a performance or three to get to. I can handle that.

 

Unfortunately, our soccer season started with a huge disappointment this first weekend with Ethan running a fever and attempting to cough his lungs out. After he wasn’t old enough to play last season, he was so excited about this year…and then had to miss his first game. No Olympic hopeful was more disappointed than he. 

 

Lacking volunteers for the 60+ teams playing on Saturdays through August and September, I ended up as the coach of Emry’s team. The coach of a game I barely know anything about! Friday night I crammed on basic soccer rules and drill ideas. For because Ethan’s coach was out of the town the first Saturday, I had volunteered to coach that team as well beforeI knew I would end up with Emry’s team. So, I got to run around with 4 and 5 years olds for the first hour-and-a-half, take a break, and then run around with 6 and 7 years olds the second hour-and-a half. My soccer skill level is much more in par with the first group. The second group flat out needs a better coach.

 

But you can’t say we’re not having fun. 4 and 5 year old don’t know enough yet to feel disappointed at a loss. And my 6 and 7 years olds…well, some have some potential skill, one needs to stop touching the ball with his hands, two are so serious I’m not sure if they’re having fun or not, and you can’t beat the running commentary of my biggest kid. He told me quite often that he has played soccer for three years now. And since that’s more than I’ve played, I’m considering handing the coaching position over to him. I just wish he played as good as he talked!

Take me out to the Ballgame!

Lafayette has a very minor baseball team. I don’t know all the various leagues of baseball, but I do know this one is a college league that plays during the summer and has a really nicenew stadium. The old one they completely tore out after the 2019 season and since it wasn’t supposed to be completed and ready until the 2021 season, the Lafayette Aviators didn’t loose out over Covid. So, this year it was “Play Ball!”

 

Ed really enjoys baseball, even though his hometown Pirates play ball worse than a pack of little leaguers. (Literally. Search Youtube for a play they made – or didn’t – at first base this past season. Worse than five-year-olds.) Indiana doesn’t have a major league team, but this league is very enjoyable. And very affordable. Especially when Emry won a ticket for memorizing all her Bible verses at church.

 

The summer got away with us and we barely made it to the last game of the season. It was a beautiful night to be out, though. Since it was Lafayette’s “Night Out”, the police, sheriff’s department and various branches of the military were out in force. Ethan, who currently wants to be a police officer when he grows up, was on cloud nine. Later he got a bit bored as the game stretched on. Ellyson, too, would get quite restless. So I can’t say I got to see much of what looked like a really good game. But it was a fun family night out anyway.

Hotdogs! The best part of any ballgame.

 

Well, Ellyson preferred the French fries – probably her favorite food.

 

Emry and “Ace the Aviator”.

 

Ellyson: the coolest baby at the stadium.