Selfies {Beekeeping 101 course} and Some History (with Pictures)

Who Are These People?

We attended a beginner's Beekeeping Course on April 8th. It was a lot of fun for me and a brand new experience for Dan. Due to this class, I think it has helped convinced and encouraged Dan to partner up with me. But first, I want to build some shade for our future beehives as we do not have mature trees on our land. I have given myself 'till next spring (2018) to do all that we need to do to get some hives started.

Here is a little history about me: My Dad was a hobby beekeeper in the 1970s. I've always been fascinated with those bees. And fearless. Dad even took me to a friend of his that helped harvest some honey which was the coolest experience a girl could have. I wanted to own and maintain several hives when I grow up and now that I have space and land to do so, I am determined to have a few.

Dad on the left and my Gram (Viola Mae) on the right. circa 1970s

My Gram (Viola Mae). circa 1970s.

Wordy Wednesday {A Helping Hand}

We had started putting down the flooring and we needed something with weight. I thought of the coins Dad left us. They are heavy and they would work. So, I dug them out and took them into the room. While taking a break and surveying all we have done, I looked at the coins and thought to myself, "Dad is still here giving us a helping hand".

It has been over five years and yet, I still see (and think of) reminders of him. I had to take a picture and while taking one, Dan was curious and asked me if I was taking a picture of the coins. So, I told him what went through my mind and he smiled.

Several hours later, something happened that got us both staring in confusion and then in amusement. I even laughed.

Dan had stacked two containers of coins and the top one can tumbling down. A thought crossed my mind and then I said it out loud. "Dad, are you trying to tell us something?" This caused Dan to laugh which is a rare thing to hear from him. That alone made my day.

My Daddy {an old short essay}

Note: I thought I posted this essay on my blog years ago. However, I realized recently that my dad passed away before I started this blog. So, it must have been posted on facebook. Or, it has never been posted out in cyberspace. Since I have been neglecting this blog due to life, I decided I wanted to post this essay here for posterity sake. It was written over a course of a few days and read (along with other essays) at his funeral. Upon rereading this, it made me cry yet again. So, I am apologizing in advance to any family members (and sensitive souls) who reads this post for I know some of you will cry should you decide to read this essay.  If you do not desire to get weepy, please leave now

My Daddy
by Lee Ann Lenfest
January 2009
I had my Daddy wrapped around my little finger. I am a Daddy’s girl. I could get him to do or tolerate most anything with me. And, oh how I could make him laugh whenever he got upset or angry with me. All I had to do was say something funny, look at him in a certain way, or even bat my eyelashes at him and it would just cause him to burst out laughing and forget about what he was upset or angry about in the first place.

I remember he had such patience with me. He would sit on the sofa with me sitting behind him on the back with my legs dangling over his shoulders onto his chest and let me play with his hair and put curlers in it. We would often wrestle and play on the floor – he was so gentle – he never hurt me. He would carry me to bed as part of my nighttime routine and did this until I got way too big – my feet would drag on the ground. So many precious memories abound in my head.

He was a constant presence and my rock – an ever present sense of security. I knew in my heart that I could always go to him if I needed to even though I rarely did.

I am always forever watching and observing the world around me. This is what I saw of my Daddy:

I saw a man who attempted to attend all the football games, not to mention the concerts, to support his children who played in the band. I saw a man who supported me playing softball by coming to the games – he even took the time to teach and coach me in softball. I saw a man that extended his help and support to others within the same softball league and he eventually became an umpire to fulfill a need. I saw a man that loved to play softball himself and he would invite me to come along and play on his team (from his work) if they were short a man. I saw a man who garnered so much respect among the people he worked with. I saw a man who showed such kindness towards others through his very actions.

I saw a man who was passionate about so many things. He adored birds and knew practically everything about them – he could identify many of them and even knew what they ate. He constantly battled with the squirrels and it was high comedy watching him do that. He loved and respected the earth – he composted and recycled as much as he could. He collected coins and hoarded them – some of which are worth a lot today. He was deeply patriotic – he loved America and impassionedly discussed politics. He was so sentimental that he kept mementos of the days long past.

I saw a man who had tears in his eyes upon giving me away in marriage to my beloved husband, Dan, and he quietly said ”you will always be my little girl” bringing tears to my own eyes.

I saw a man who just adored his grandchildren and would do anything they asked of him, even getting down on the floor to play with them, even though it made him groan. And, he would attempt to attend the important events of his grandchildren – high school & college graduations, weddings, and more.

I saw a man whose eyes sparkled with tears of happiness when I looked up at him among the people in the audience after the graduation ceremony from college. He had insisted that I “walk” for him when I wasn’t going to. How could I refuse his request? After all, I’m a Daddy’s girl who loved him so very much. I did not realize the depth of his pride and joy from this event until a few weeks later when he showed off the framed stuff he had obtained from my graduation. I must confess that it surprised me. It was his way of saying that he was proud of his little girl and it touched my heart.

I could go on and on with what I’ve seen of this man whom I called Daddy. He had such love for his Mother and Father, for his wife, my Mother, each of his siblings, his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He adored family and loved the gatherings that would occur.

My Daddy was strong, loyal, and courageous. He was a pillar of strength and he was brave to the very end.

I am honored to know him, to love him, to be of him.
He's my hero, and I am his daughter, his little girl. 1

1 “Daddy’s Girl” by Christine McNamara

Remembering Father's Day

Moi with Dad; 1965

My Second Completed Quilt

Note: The word 'completed' is the key. I have made a trip-around-the-world quilt that is currently basted and waiting to be quilted. It is the one (and most likely the only) quilt that is being hand quilted. The top to that quilt was completed before this one I am about to talk about.

Thimbleberries Book of Quilts by Lynette Jensen

In the year 1996 or 1997, I came across this book. The copyright is 1995 and it is published by Rodale Books. I was surprised I still have this book. But then, I have a tendency to hoard books. So, this should not have surprised me at all.I think this pattern along with a Tabletop Tree Skirt pattern is the only reason why I bought the book. I knew I wanted to make my Dad this Birdhouse Row quilt because he loved birds. I also thought it would be easy to make.

Anyway, I set out to collect all kinds of bird fabrics. I also hunted for just the right fabrics to use in the quilt top. I even purchased fabric that would be humorous and make him smile. I actually started making the center of the quilt either late spring or early summer of 1997. And, I started before I even found the border fabrics. I am that type of person, the fabrics have to be just right and sometimes meaningful.Here is the top all in it's glory. By the way, the picture isn't all the great due to both the lighting and the fact it was breezy.

Dad loved this quilt and cherished it. When the quilt returned to me after he passed away, it was soft. So, I knew he used it some even though he had it folded and put up most of the time.Here is some fabric which I considered humorous. It was the perfect shade of red; but, it had chickens! Chickens do not use birdhouses! Bwahaha! haha. ha? Ahem. This fabric was used in the top right, center and bottom left birdhouses in the quilt top.

By the way, when I made the birdhouse blocks, I did not realize that they were bigger than the pattern indicated until I set out to trim them. I learned my lesson from this experience. Always measure the first block to make sure it is the right size. Anyway, the birdhouse blocks were all the exact same size. So, I set out to use them. That is how I roll. The end result is the quilt was bigger than the finished size quilt in the book.

I remember hand sewing some of the circles on while camping at Garner. I had to do them while making sure Dad could not see what I was doing. I wanted to complete the quilt before Christmas.

I had completed the center part of the quilt before I even found the border fabric. It took some time before I found perfect fabrics to use. Once I saw them, I knew they were perfect.I actually found the inner border fabric after I found the outer border. As you can see, the outer border has stars. Dad was very patriotic. It was the right shade of brown too. So, I knew it was perfect.

When I came across the inner border fabric, I knew it was just right. It was the perfect shade of blue not to mention that it looked like branches or twigs that could be used in a bird's nest.

I immediately set about piecing the borders on. When I started piecing the borders, I realized that I didn't have enough for the binding. This was another lesson learned. I now always buy much more than patterns indicate just to be safe. Some time had passed since I made the purchase. This was back in the days when shops were just getting started online. I hunted and hunted for this same outer border fabric. I finally found some at a quilt shop online. I had them put yardages on hold for me, immediately set out to the shop which was quite a drive and was so happy to see the fabric! It was such a relief!
The backing was so much easier to make! I did some figuring and calculated what size squares I would need to make the backing. As you can see, I was a little off in my calculations. But, it only the backing. So, it didn't matter to me that much.

By the way, I fussy cut some squares.


There is that humor again with the chickens. But hey, it had a 'goose' too.


Dad loved ducks too
When I set out to quilt this quilt, I had broken my left wrist again. The doctor did not take X-rays because he didn't think it was broken. It hurt so bad though. I tried to tough it out for a couple weeks and ended up going back. He took x-rays. Lo and behold, it was indeed broken. But, the doctor said there was nothing they can do. Say what? I said I will see about that as I did not want to live with that kind of pain. FYI: I am a lefty and use this hand so much!

I ended up going to an orthopedic doctor that my mother had. I took the x-rays with me. He had MRIs done and it was discovered there was extensive ligament and tendon damage which was the cause of my extraordinary pain. He also speculated that since I had broken this same wrist as a child that the bone never really healed. Instead, the bone chip was manipulated to where it rested upon the main bone but never bonded together. So, when I injured the wrist again, the bone chip just pulled away from the main bone along with the ligaments and tendons. The doctor wanted me to do therapy first before attempting surgery as adding more scar tissue is not a good thing. It turned out that therapy worked. I now have a bone chip 'floating' around in my wrist and as long as I keep the muscles strong, it does not give me any trouble.

But, in the meantime, I was in pain and could not machine quilt this quilt. It was getting so close to Christmas and I was determined to get it done. I ended up enlisting Dan's help by holding and moving the quilt while I machine quilted it in the ditch. It wasn't perfect. But, we got it done! I managed to get the binding sewn on just in time for Christmas of 1997!
An awful picture of me sewing the binding onto the quilt with Chessie who was still a kitten
I did not get any pictures of Dad with the quilt on Christmas day. But, I made him bring out the quilt about three months later and I took pictures of him with it for documentation sake. Everyone was BIG on documenting quilts with labels and pictures way back then.{The date on these pictures was March 14, 1998}
I hope you all enjoyed this trip down memory lane. I was going to keep it short; but, it turned into a long epic story.

Wordy Wednesday

My Dad (far left) with his Sister and Oldest Brother
{circa 1940s}
I just started up the scanning of old negatives. These are a pain in the rear as they are odd sized negatives -- approximately 4-1/2" x 3-1/2" (give or take a few). The process of scanning them went a lot quicker once Dan created a template for me to use with the scanner. Thank you Dan!

Wordy Wednesday: Sitisfaction

I ran across this the other day among my dad's stuff. It is amazing to me - very reflective of my Dad. It is written by my Uncle Verton, Dad's older brother.

Below is the words as written on this piece of paper:

                Sitisfaction

I'm just sitting down here in Texas
    As contented as can be.
The news, the weather, nor my kin
    is allowed to bother me.
I have my feet propt on the rail
    My mind's from trouble free.
I'm hunkered here in Livingston
    just as happy as can be.

I've got a wife in 'dena
    And a few kids hereabout
But they seem like smokey mem'ries
    which suddenly just pass out
As a cloud will flee from sunshine
    And leave the landscape free to shout.
"He's relaxing here in Texas
    Of that it's plain to see."

I've got my stash of silver
    And if the truth were told
You'd know I've hidden somewhere
    A poke of gleaming gold.
But that's my secret, most suspect
    It's just pennies and dimes I've rolled.
Yes, I've nestled right here in Livingston
    There ain't nothin' to bother me.

The above can stand alone as is. I love it and I think it is just wonderful. However, I've found the second part to this poem late yesterday. Here is the words to the rest of the poem (misspellings and all):

And yet, I've a brother out East
    That I think of now and then
Who I'm certain deservedly loves me,
    He claims to be my best friend.
I acknowledge it's right that I call him
    But not now! I don't know just when
'Cause I'm comfortably esconsed here in Texas
    Don't want anything troublin' me.

There's some moonshine reflected on water
    That laps itself right to my door
And sunshine the other half of the day
    Who could ask for anything more?
I've got silver and gold and mem'ries untold
    And my heart goes out to the poor.
Yep, I'm staying right down here in Texas
    no dark clouds to hang over me.

Now, you may thing I'm a selfish old b--tard
    who thinks of himself. himself.
You're wrong! And you're right, the difference is slight
    As any psychiatrist would tell if
You'd just take a moment and listen.
    One's best friend is one's innermost self.
So, I'll continue to lounge here in Texas
    And pray you're as happy as me.

for muh bruther     7-23-98

Wordy Wednesday

I finished scanning in all the pictures I brought from my folks house. As I was looking at the older ones, I wondered about some people captured within that moment of time. They are the forgotten ones. Who were they? What were their lives like? What were their names? Are they still alive? What is their story?

I found myself sad that time seems to wipe out the memory of their life – no one remembers who they are. A thought inserted itself in the midst of my reminiscing and contemplations, “But, the Lord remembers”. Yes, He remembers – He is the one that will never forget.

But Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me,
the Lord has forgotten me.”

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!

See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me.

~Isaiah 49:15-16~

Notes:

1. I believe my dad is third person in the first picture. I suspect that the first person is an uncle (my dad's brother). However, I'm not 100% sure. As for the middle person, I have no clue who he is.


2. I suspect that is my dad in the second picture based upon
       a) the handwriting on the back (roll over the image) is most likely my dad's and
       b) the kid looks a lot like my dad in another picture I have of him where he is entering 1st grade.
   

Anniversary - Two Years

1931 - 2009

1997 - 2009

I have been meaning to write; but sometimes, I just cannot. It is not writer’s block. It is avoidance. I do not desire to get to the heart of myself at times. I absolutely dislike crying. I will avoid doing so if I can.

The last two years held plenty of crying – grieving the loss of my dad. And then, my Mother first fell on the anniversary of my Dad’s passing. She then fell again several weeks later in which she fractured a lower vertebra and ultimately lost her independence. In the midst between the two, I lost one of my cats, Calvin. His life ended suddenly and quickly. It was a terrible time for me as he hid his sickness until the very end. I missed all the signs. As a result, I felt so guilty about him for the longest time.

Today marks the two year anniversary of my Dad’s passing. I almost could not stand to see him lie there slipping away in his sleep when the Morphine kicked in. He told us all he loved us. And, he spoke personally to my Mother. And then, he slipped away into sleep. I certainly could not stay there and watch him pass away. I will never forget the screaming going on in my mind while watching him. And, here I am crying again.

It took me two years to process my grief.
Two years to internalize all that was said and done.
Two years of fight and flight – ‘dealing with’ and ‘avoidance’.

During these two years, I came to peace with Dad’s passing,
peace over Calvin’s circumstances and passing,
peace about Mother and the fact she’ll not return home.

I miss my dad. I miss my mother’s presence in her house. I miss the constancy of knowing I had a childhood home to return to and that my folks would be there – especially over the holidays.

The one constant in life is change. Changes are inevitable. I know that there will be more changes in this year. But, that doesn’t mean I like them – I never did. However, I am coming to an acceptance.

Let come what may. I will no longer fight. I am at peace. Yes, I still grieve. Yes, it still hurts – tremendously. But, as of this moment, I am at peace and all is well.

And, that is a good thing. Right?

"I'll See You Later"

Today is my Dad’s birthday. He would have been 79 years old. Today makes it a little over 1-½ years since his passing on January 13, 2009. Today is a hard day.

For the longest time, I could not say goodbye – that word seems so final. And, for the longest time, whenever I think about returning to his final resting place to say goodbye, I’d break out into heart wrenching sobs. I just couldn't bring myself to go back.

This week has been a hard week. It is bittersweet with Dad’s birthday being today and the blessing of a new baby shower coming tomorrow. It was made all the harder when Mother got sick. She is battling UTI again and the antibiotics she was taking made her sicker. In fact, this particular antibiotic has made her sick in the past. So, when my brother found out what she was taking, he arranged it so that she’d get a different antibiotic. They took away the pills and are giving her shots. She seems to be doing better albeit weak.

Her skin on her face is still pale and beautiful. And, her mind is still going strong. It’s her hands that give her away. She used to have such beautiful petite soft hands and now, they are a 90-year old lady’s skeletal hands. She’s only 75 years old. It makes me feel sad.

It is times like this that I miss my Dad the most. He never wanted to be the first to leave. He wanted to be around to take care of Mother. But, life often deals hard knocks and takes away your choices.

As I pondered and did much soul searching this week, many things came to light in my mind and heart. It came to me that I was not allowed to properly grieve during that awful week between Dad’s passing and his funeral. And now, whenever I think upon the events that occurred during this time, it leaves only sorrow in my heart with a hint of anger. I honestly believe that I had to get past that first before I could properly grieve for Daddy. Even though I realized that those things have conspired against my ability to fully grieve Daddy’s passing, I still could not say goodbye. I still broke out into heart wrenching sobs.

In one of my many silent listening moments, a memory came to me out of the blue. I recalled one of my favorite Great Uncle’s conversations about the word "goodbye". I remember that he, too, disliked that word. For him, the word "goodbye" seems so final, so harsh. Instead, he preferred to use the phrase “see you later”. It always left room for the hope that we’ll see each other again someday whether it would be on earth or in Heaven.

In my heart, I realized that the same is true for me. "Goodbye" is not the word for me to use. Instead, it should be “see you later”. And, for the first time, I only had tears streaming down my face instead of heart wrenching sobs and a broken heart. I can look forward to the hope of seeing him again and move on with my life.

So today, I returned for the first time to Dad’s final resting place.


Today, I wished him a happy birthday.


Today, I told him about the newest little one coming into the family in November, a baby girl, his great granddaughter, Lily. I know in my heart he would have so adored and loved her so much.


Today, I told him I loved him very much and missed him terribly.


Today, I bid farewell to my Daddy. I said to him “I’ll see you later”.

I walked away feeling at peace…