Today is a gift

Today... I've been wondering about this day for a while.  My dear friend Kathy has been really sick for 6 months.  She was the receptionist at our church who was amazing at directing and welcoming and just making everyone feel like they were heard when they called.

That title, as important as it was, and she did it so amazingly well.... was the ppps.. on her resume of "things that Kathy Fairley kicked butt at in the world."

Today was her funeral. I am the funeral/memorial service planner at our church.  This was an actual funeral as there was a casket.  It was hand made by her son in law.  It was quite beautiful.  The funeral home brought it and we put it in a room.  I wasn't prepared for my emotions... I directed them to the room and then I stood there and looked at the casket and realized that Kathy was in there, I mean, her body was.  I teared up.  I knew that Kathy was in Heaven, but I knew her earthly body was in there, it just freaked me out a bit.

Fast forward, the service began with her grandkids escorting the casket in.  It was very moving. Then the service ensued. Morris gave a great message about how Kathy lived her life here and that she began her eternal life by living here. There were tributes made by her friends and family.  The theme was that Kathy engaged with people.  She asked questions about her friends, she remembered and she explored the world and met people.  Kathy was the most interesting person who had the most amazing stories to tell, but you would never know that, you would come away from a conversation with her having just told her all of your information.  This world is mourning the loss of Kathy, but Heaven is rejoicing.  I'm so sad and so happy at the same time.

The parting shot of her service.... her grandkids escorting the casket out.  Zeek, who had shared at the service about his Grandma being "awesome" and how young kids today throw around words like 'awesome' and 'epic' and 'amazing' and how his grandma was awesome, in the true sense of the word.  He'd given that really "spot on" message... and then he walked the casket out with his cousins and sibling... he was at the head of the casket just having both hands on and head down... it literally made me sob.

People stayed and visited and food was served and I had this ongoing memory of other services where I was "on" and Kathy was at the front desk saying, "You're so good at this, you really are."  She was such a good cheerleader.  I really just love Kathy so much.  As this day has wound down, I've just been pondering about how we can be here in this world and make a difference, not in a big way, but in the slow and steady way like Kathy.  Just find the joy in life and engage in people and show Jesus' love.  In the middle of her service a homeless guy wandered in.  He was scruffy, he smelled a little, but he wanted a small Bible, one he could stash in his pack.  I found him one, he asked, "How much?"   I told him to take it... he saw the cookies and said "Cookies!"  I gave him one. He was so thankful.  I couldn't help but think that Kathy would LOVE that.

Kathy, I know you wouldn't want your service to be about you, it was and it wasn't.  It was about you and Jesus.  It was beautiful.  I love that you're in Heaven. I look forward to the day I see you again friend.  I love you.

Annie

The Olympic Trials

I was going to wait to write a blog about the Olympic Trials, but I can't stand it after today.  Quite a while back, Bruce bought 2 tickets to the whole thing.  All nine glorious days of them.  We weren't sure about which kids would be available or which of us would be so we figured 2 tickets would be a good number. It has been. I could go on and on about all the cool things that we've seen, but I will talk about today, for now.  Today we actually bought extra tickets because it was the final of the 5k and the men's Steeple, both events that Dudley Distance geeks love!

 As it happened today, Megan is gone, so the boys and us went down and met up with Taylor, a Whitworth teammate.  We got there early to look around and Bruce and I grabbed a table by the main stage.  As luck would have it, they interview Madeline Manning (one of my heroes) and Mac Wilkens and also Roger Kingdom.  Very cool.  I snapped a pic on my phone.  We sit there some more and then Bruce says, "There's your girl."  I look and Madeline Manning is standing 20 feet from us.

 Now, let me back up... to 1980.  I was fortunate enough to come to the Trials in 1980 with my aunt and sister and cousin.  We had a blast, it was so fun for this farm kid/runner to witness all the awesome runners.  At that time, we happened upon one Madeline Manning, sporting an awesome afro... I had watched her race and knew she was a wicked fast 800 meter runner, so I walked over for an autograph.  She was so kind back then and talked to me, I don't remember much, but she signed my paper.  When I looked down at it afterward, it said "Madeline Manning, Running for Jesus."  I have a very clear memory of thinking, "Wow, she loves Jesus and she is telling everyone."  At that point in my life, I knew all about Jesus and God and all that, but I hadn't really made any decision to follow Him.  That, as I look back, was one of the many ways God pursued me.


Today I had the opportunity to tell her that.  I briefly said that I had met her in 1980 and she'd signed that autograph and shortly after I'd decided to follow Jesus.  At that point, she hugged me.  It was a really cool moment in my life.  Honestly, I have thought about her quite a bit.  It was just one of those things.  I do love how God works.

I know that I'll see other cool things during the Trials, but I feel like this is the one that God had for me.  Thanks.  Great day.

The Long Drive

Graduation articulation!

I have a son who is a college graduate.  I am mighty proud of that fact... let's just sit on that a bit.  The title of this blog doesn't really speak to that, but I'll get to it.  Let me back up four or so years to August of 2008.  This was when we took Tyler off to school.  I remember this "long drive" oh so very well.  We loaded up in our Honda Pilot and a Thule on top and got all of his stuff plus the two parents and Tyler in there.  I chose the back seat.  We left Salem, OR for Spokane, WA.  A 6 hour trek.  We took off and things were fairly normal.

 Let's back up a bit... I'd been anticipating Tyler leaving for a while and had had a few minor meltdowns.  My first little chick leaving my nest.  I was a sad mama.  I was very happy for where he was headed.  Whitworth seemed like a good fit, but I was still a bit... sad.

We headed North and East.  I was doing fine and then we hit the Tri-Cities, which is where Grandma and Grandpa Dudley live.  Now, we had lived in Spokane when Ty was a baby up until he was 7.  We'd travelled to the Tri Cities many, many times during that time frame.  So, when we hit that stretch of road... all these old memories started hitting me of us driving that route when Tyler was a baby/toddler/young boy.  My mind just went back there and I was quite weepy.  I was glad to be in the backseat... I don't think Bruce or Ty noticed, but I was crying a good bit of that last 2 hours.

We got to Spokane, stayed in our hotel which was right by Riverfront park.  The night before "dorm move-in day" Tyler stayed with us, we took a walk through the park and his comment when we saw the giant Radio Flyer Wagon slide... "Wow, I always thought this was much bigger."  Well, Tyler, you were much littler when you  last saw it. We moved him in the next day, we met his teammates and his coach.  It all seems quite surreal to me now, but as I look back... what a monumental day... the day he met his amazing TEAM mates and Toby, the best coach ever!

I was doing great, lots of busyness to attend to. Met his roommate, got him moved in.  A nice little dorm room.  I think we took him to dinner and then we were to drop him off at the "XC house" for a TEAM building movie night or something... last time to see him - moment of Mommy horribleness. I still remember that moment like it was yesterday... I got out of the car, I hugged him and said "Do good."  Wow, really powerful stuff... I was maybe a foreshadow of the movie "The Help"... You is good... Really?@#!?  Do good?  Oh well, it was done.  And then I proceeded to bawl the whole way down Division St. in Spokane... any Spokanites reading this... you can appreciate how long that is... we stayed in a hotel by the convention center... WAY the heck down there!

Ok, now onto the other part of the "Long Drive" that this blog speaks of.  We just spent this past weekend celebrating Tyler's graduation from Whitworth.  What an amazing weekend.  I loved every bit of it.  I love where my son spent the last 4 years.  I love the friends he made.  I had the best time celebrating this event this past weekend.  I did, however, have a "long drive" home.  Trent, our second born boy is now a sophomore at Whitworth and we needed to move him home plus bring some of Tyler's stuff, thus the need of two vehicles. This is where the other "long drive" comes into effect.  I had to drive the trek.  We set out Monday morning and I had my mocha and was quite fine driving along, but had this immediate thought.  I was driving this reverse route of 4 years ago and not feeling the least bit weepy or sad.  I had this feeling of... contentment.  I'd just spent this weekend of hearing about Tyler's accomplishments.  Witnessing his amazing friendships.  Hearing the testimonies of other Whitworth grads and knowing what a fine institution Ty graduated from.  I just felt like God was telling me that everything was just the way He intended it to be.  Tyler doesn't have a job yet, but I know he will get one.  I'm not worried in the least.  My "long drive" was quite pleasant.  Thank you God for where you directed Tyler and for what You have planned for him, I cannot wait to see.

Mama Duds.

Perfection

About the time Philip Humber was pitching the 21st perfect game in Major League history, I was completely unaware of the happenings... and I am a Mariner fan, so I very well could have been, but I had more important things to do.  I was watching the amazing Whitworth Pirates compete in the Northwest Conference Track meet.  I too, was witnessing a pretty perfect thing.

I will try my best to succinctly repeat the awesomeness that were those 2 days.  The men's team had a goal of "3 pete" where they wanted to win for the third year in a row and also score 300 points.  A lofty goal, for sure.  The winning part, barring a lot of mishaps, was pretty doable.  On paper we were supposed to win by quite a margin, but the most any team had ever scored was quite a bit shy of 300.  I'm gonna be a spoiler right here, we didn't get the 300 points, we won easily with 270.  I still think I witnessed some pretty perfect performances.

They won 9 first places out of 20 events.  They were on the award stand (top 3) more times than I can count.  Our pole-vaulter won and then promptly finished 4th in the hundred meters... interesting double?  Obviously doable.  Our throwers are amazing!  The "gentle giants" got more medals and threw things further than I can articulate.  The 4x1 team won again!  Flawless handoffs.  The jumpers reaped huge points for us, leaping up and out so far, it boggles the mind.  Frank, the high jump winner, stood between the 2nd and 3rd place guys and appears like a foot shorter.  He's not your typical 6 ft. plus high jumper, but the kid has springs!  One of the decathletes (Coop)  got a PR and 4th, higher than expected.

That's my best attempt at recap for the events I'm not as brushed up on.  Now, onto the distance and mid-distance!  Steven Acosta, oh my... a cross country runner trapped inside a soccer player's body.  He ran so well.  Took 2nd in the 1500 where he "tweaked" his hamstring.  So, what do you do when you tweak your hammy?  Of course, go out and run an amazing 800 meter and take 2nd place and score 8 more points for your TEAM.  Side note, all season he's been training with Tyler or more accurately, Ty's been training with him in order to get some speed.  (more on this later)
Steven wasn't the only distance kid to bring it... Shane Polley and Tyler earned points in the Steeple.  Ty got 2nd and Shane took 7th.  The 10k was grueling as usual.  Poor Aaron has been battling a back thing, but powered through the 25 laps for 4th.  Tim placed 6th, much better than expected and gritted through the middle like a champ with blood blisters to show for it.  My Trent ran this as well, didn't score a point, but PR'd and puked his guts out afterward, worthy of mention.

Day 2:  More excitement for our distance boys.  I already mentioned Mr. Acosta above, in the 1500 Taylor and Mark were also in attendance.  Both achieved maximum performance and scored points higher than expected.  I seriously screamed so loud in all these races it's beyond normal.  I realize I'm not the average "lovey mom", I scream encouragement mixed with challenges/orders... I know they most likely don't hear me, but I do it anyway.

Now, the only event left is the 5k. (we also had the 4x4, but for drama's sake, work with me)  We had 3 entries, Aaron, Tim and Tyler.  Ranked 10, 11 and 12 in a field of 12.  Not great odds.  Each kid had a goal of scoring, period!  Times aside, just race and score for the TEAM. We'd already won, easily, but they wanted to add to the score.  Gun goes off, racers start.  A pedestrian pace for a mile.  Then lap 5 the kid from Willamette pops off a 66.  Leaves the field.  The rest begin to adjust and the "pack" starts to trail off.  Race ensues, Tyler moves up a bit.  I'm watching with his old teammate Dusty and another alumni guy who I shall call "my victim".  Anyway, as things progress, we're getting down to the final laps, "my victim" is kinda doing this Howard Cosell play by play.  It's cool, cuz I'm not really focusing at this point.  Last lap:  Tyler is at 300 meters to go and in 6th, I think.  At this point, that's cool, remember, he just wanted to score and that's 8th.  "My victim" says "Dudley took 5th... oh my gosh, he's in 4th... (at this point I began jumping up and down and hitting "my victim" (thus the name))  and bless his heart, didn't skip a beat, even with the beating... he says "He took 3rd!"  We both jumped up and down screaming and starting running for the finish... it's all a bit of a blur, but basically, everybody rushed Ty, Mark was hugging him, Aaron was hugging him (btw, Aaron took 8th in a gallant effort with his horrible back and having already run his 10k)  It was the dream race for Ty's senior year Conference Meet.  I caught my breath, apologized to "my victim" and he was gracious, probably a bit scared (good instinct).  I still get a bit teary thinking of Tyler's amazing race.  The culmination of so many years of hard work when nobody was watching.  I must give the due credit to his buddy Acosta for the hours of training and teaching him speed.  Also to Toby who never gave up on Tyler tapping into his speed.  What an amazing coach Toby is.

That is the portion of the meet that was throwing, running, jumping and any other "ing" I'm leaving out.  The "perfection" part, however is the fact that my boys are on a TEAM that is getting it right.  Yes, they won, but that's not the perfect part, the part I love is on Friday night when all the seniors spoke and the theme was that at Whitworth, track and field isn't an individual sport, it's a TEAM sport and the things they learned weren't just how to be stronger and faster physically, it was about the relationships with each other and their spiritual journeys.  This is perfect.  My sons are on a TEAM who gets it.  Their coach is amazing and I couldn't ask for a better place for them at this season of their lives.  I'm so blessed that God directed them there.

This weekend left me with virtually no voice, a sunburn, a sore back (apparently, leaning over and screaming can make your back hurt when you're old) and a great appreciation for where my sons have landed.  Ty's about to take off from there as he graduates next month, but I feel confident that he'll be just fine with the foundation he received from there.

So, we didn't have a perfect game, we won't be in any hall of fame, but I sure wouldn't have missed it for the world.  Good job Bucs!  Way to represent!

Mama Duds

Back among the running

Hey all,

Happy St. Patricks Day! I celebrated this morning with the first annual "Dudley Shamrock Run"!

As luck would have it and I don't even think I have any Irish as part of my heritage, but on this day I was feeling lucky. As luck would have it, I won all the age groups, both genders. I ran a glorious 30 minutes circling muddy Bush Park. I am fairly certain that all the other participants were unaware they were in the race... but ahem, a victory is a victory. I mean, I felt like Norfolk State or Lehigh... poor runners didn't know what hit them. They, like Missouri and Duke are probably still reeling in their locker rooms.

In all seriousness, this day marked my first real "run" in almost a year. I've been battling my hamstring injury and am officially in the final stages of my "return to run" program that I began after months of exercises and PT. In the 30 minutes I'm allowed (increasing slowly from here) I covered 2 and 1/4 laps around Bush, so that's roughly 3 miles and some change. Nothing stellar in terms of speed, but I felt great, the sun was shining, my shoes are muddy and I feel the normal soreness of a runner who hasn't been running. All of these things, I count as awesome!

If you're reading this, I'll let you in on a little secret. I may have a very cool goal to work toward. I can't talk about it yet, but you'll be the first to know when I can. Until then, you can bet I'll be flying high on endorphins and sweat. Aaaah...

Dudster

Ode to my bro Yo!

Today is my brother Marty's 48th birthday! He was born on Feb. 28, 1964, the year of the flood as we've all heard. It was a leap year as this is, but he was actually born on the 28th, not the 29th. My brother is the 2nd of us 4 kids. We always say "us kids" when we talk about us, it's weird. We were like a herd of Halls. The thing is, though, is that poor Mart was the only boy child. Yikes! He was fortunate that none of us "Hall girls" were super girlie, but let's face it... poor Mart!

There were some rules to being a Hall kid. To name a few: 1) Do your chores, do your homework, in that order. 2)No screaming unless your head was on fire. My Dad was pretty mellow, but he did NOT enjoy a screaming girl. First thing we schooled our friends on. 3) No hitting girls. This one was for Marty. Again, poor Mart! If I were his mom, I would have let him beat the crap out of us. We were rotten sisters. Let me digress on this one... Marty was/is the kindest hearted kind of soul. He was also a bit naive. The wily girls could fool him every time. We convinced him to get into the squeeze shoot designed for cattle. We just wanted to see if it worked on humans... we would let him out.. at least that's what we told him. Oh yeah, he got in there and it worked, btw, on humans. We then proceeded to pommel him with water and dirt clods and who knows what else. Horrible girls! I believe this occurred more than once as did other torture sessions. And by the way, he never got that mad at us, he would just laugh and be a good sport. Gentle giant.

Another thing I remember about my brother is this one time a bigger kid was picking on me and my friends at recess. I lamented at dinner that night. The next day, my brother and his friends had a little chat with that kid and my friends thought that was the coolest thing ever. I just kinda strutted around the playground like I was pretty cool. In all fairness, he should have let the kid put me in a squeeze shoot and torture me, but "Us Hall kids" had to stick together.

So, on this day of my brother Marty's birth, I am commemorating his "brotherness"! Marty, I appreciate what an awesome brother you've been. I also admire the kind of son, husband, dad, Uncle, friend and grandpa you are. You are a wonderful man of God and I am blessed beyond measure for having you in my life. I'm also really glad that for 2 months you are 3 years older than me.... Sucka!!!

Love you Mart!

Happy 2012

Another year is rearing its head for us to ponder about. It always seems a bit silly to me, the new year frenzy. The resolutions, the crowded cardio equipment at the gym for 3 weeks or so until the resolutions wear off. The countdowns of the best of ... you name it for the previous year. I, personally, enjoy all the commercials for weight loss this and that... the quit smoking stuff, it is a bit much. Why does it take the "New Year" to inspire change for the better?

On the other hand... if it does take the New Year, then why not embrace it and make a change? This year, I have been thinking about what I'd like to do this year. I have some goals. Some personal goals that I've shared with God and that will suffice. I also have some prayers, which I've also shared with God, but don't mind sharing with any folks who happen upon here too.

I have been working really hard at rehabbing my hamstring for the last several months. I am making progress and have a real hope and a prayer of running within the next month. Praise God and my PT Josiah. This has been the longest I haven't run, other than pregnancies, my whole life. It's been brutal and also a learning tool. I listened to a sermon from Steve Fowler tonight on suffering, he was eloquent and my "not running" has been tough, but I don't liken it to the suffering he spoke of. I do, however, have a person in mind who has been suffering and if he could run again, oh boy, that would be a huge answer to prayer and God would be glorified.

That brings me to my number one New Year's goal and prayer. I have been praying for my good buddy John Stumbo to run again since October of 2008. This was when he became deathly ill. I prayed for him to live at that time, but quickly segued into praying for him to get better to run on our Hood to Coast team. Let's back up to September of that year, I decided to do a Hood to Coast team of staff members at Salem Alliance. John was the first to commit, I can still remember the day he came to my desk and said "I'm in. Let me know when to write the check." I put in for a team that October, literally the week he became sick was the deadline. The day I found out we got a team was a day we heard a bit of good news in his battle. I honestly, at that point, still held out hope that he'd get better and be running with us. Well, we ended up changing our name from "SAC religious" to Stumbo's Prayer Warriors. We handed out cool rubber bracelets with our team name on them to other teams, we told John's story, we prayed for John on each leg, it was cool. But John wasn't there. He did see our team off, in his very fragile state. He didn't get to run.

John continued to battle, I managed to get a team for 2 more years, we were still the "Stumbo's Prayer Warriors" we had "Run John Run" as our slogan for the second year. That was cool, we tagged teams with magnets that said they'd been prayed for. That is the pic on this blog, with John sending us off again. But he still couldn't run. This past year, we handed out magnets again and still prayed and still John wasn't running. I put in for a team this year and we were turned down. It's a lottery, we didn't get in. John still isn't running.

I mentioned my long haul hamstring injury. I've been going to my PT who is located on S River Road. I drive by Minto Brown to go there. One day I was uber early and felt compelled to drive into Minto and pray for John to run. I literally, drove around the parking lot and prayed aloud... begged God for John to run. I have been doing that on almost every visit to my PT, I go twice a week. I drive around Minto praying for John to run. I have this fervor.. this burning in my heart that John should run this year. I can't describe it, I thought that I should keep it to myself, but as it's morphed... I feel led to share it. To any who read this, please pray for John. I know that the running gene is a rare thing, few of us have it, but if you do, you know... John has suffered a bunch from his illness, but his inability to run, to do what God made him to do... has been among the greatest suffering that he's done. I am convinced of this.

And so, this 2012, I hope many people lose weight, quit smoking, go to the gym... etc. etc. etc... all of these resolutions will be great! I pray that my friend John Stumbo will have the amazing feeling of running with the wind in his face, the endorphins flowing through his veins, the most amazing feeling in the world in his heart... run like the wind John... this is my prayer.

Duds family Christmas

Hello friends,

I have been anticipating this Christmas for a while. I didn't wait as long as Zechariah or anything... but suffice to say, I've been dreaming of a... Dudleys at home Christmas for a while. This is the year we go to grandparents for Thanksgiving and stay home at Christmas, it has become my favorite. This hasn't always been the case, but as my small family has grown, I have grown to appreciate the times we have together as very precious. I do love our extended families too and enjoy those years, but I do love my "off year/quieter year".

This year was a bit different in that I got lists from the kids early and did the bulk of my shopping online and was virtually done mid December. The baking was almost the same. I was a wonder woman... would come home each night and whip up a batch of confections... the freezer was filling, my closet was filling (that's where I stash the loot), I even got the annual Christmas letter/newsletter done at a decent timetable.

Fast forward to Christmas Eve... I'll start on the nitty gritty. We were lucky enough to have Bruce's folks join us, Gene and Rita. My in laws of almost 26 years. They're a hoot. They arrived on the 23rd. I guess we're backing it up a day... We all went out to Red Robin for dinner. Gene and Bruce play this game of "who will pay the bill?" It's super fun and all party goers should try it. This time Gene won, he told the waitress while he was ordering his beverage, HUGE rule breach. The funny "Dudley family folklore" was that he tried to pay with his driver's license. The waitress was really nice and he remedied his faux pax. In his defense, we had thrown our Red Robin Royalty card at him to get him a discount and that threw him, plus he volunteers at the jail every week and they make him provide his DL there. We didn't rule out a mini stroke though... I had my eye on him the rest of the night.

Ok, now we're at Christmas Eve. We spent the bulk of the day at home. Dinging around, visiting, I was preparing for our meal(s). Just a good day, my favorite kind, all my kids home, me cooking, my boys having a run. We all went to church at 5:00. All but Grandpa who had caught a bug, an immediate and really awful little cold like bug and coupled with some muscular chest issues he's dealing with was making him fairly miserable. Poor Gene-O, I felt awful for him. The rest of us enjoyed an amazing service at Salem Alliance Church. Complete with a rendition of "Oh Holy Night" that left us all dumbfounded by my buddy Logan.

We came home from service and had an awesome lasagna meal (if I do say so myself), we each opened one present, we began the annual "A Christmas Story" marathon that has graced our world for a few years now, thank you TBS.

Christmas Eve ended with most of the Dudleys going to bed and the "Lead Elf" aka "Mom" stuffing the stockings, eating the cookies that were left for Mr. Clause... actually, I put them into the tupperware with the others, I mean, I aint running these days, I can't afford cookie calories. Anyway, merriment was readied... I went to bed and woke up at 8:00 to put the giant bird in.

We had told Grandma and Grandpa to come at 10:00 f0r the presents. (they stay in a hotel, no room in the inn) I got up, wrangled the turkey, drank some coffee, watched the straggling family members stroll down. It's nice to have larger children (notice I didn't say 'more mature' children) who don't get up at 5:00 am to see what Santa brought. My larger and way NOT mature children all managed to get up and then Grandma and Grandpa came. We opened up the loot! It was amazing. Yay God!

You sent us Your Son on this blessed morning, thank You so much, we are all so not worthy. I felt compelled to add this, I make jokes and kid around, but Jesus, You really are the reason for the season... regardless of whether that rhymes. You rule my life. I love You, I worship You and You are the only reason that all of this Christmas craziness happens. I'm sorry it can seem like craziness to You. I hope You can see the sincerity that is in there too.

The present frenzy ended... it was great, we all LOVED everything! My favorite thing was that I decided to give each person in our house a letter of "Words of Affirmation" I spent weeks on this task, I loved it. I wrote a single page letter to each of my family telling them what they mean to me. From the heart, things I don't tend to say.. I highly recommend it to you all. I didn't anticipate the silence of the stocking opening when they each read theirs... it was a bit awkward, but also fun to watch their reactions. I had assumed they'd each read them later, but they each read them before they tore into their stockings. That ended the present portion of our celebration.

We gently moved into the "Dudleys shall hog out" portion of our program. I made my way to the kitchen and laid out the appetizers. Let the feeding frenzy begin. I then ensued onto the rest of the Christmas feast. When I post this blog on my FB page, cuz that's how cool I am yo! I shall tag all the people who had a part in our feast. To quote Bob Cratchit in ANY of the Scrooge knock offs... "To Mr. Scrooge, the founder of the feast"

We had a turkey dinner. I prepared a 24lb. bird. I also did homemade stuffing with sausage from my brother Marty. Awesome. I made a green bean casserole. Mashed potatoes, which my mommy taught me how to make before I could drive. I had home made yeast rolls from my Nana, who taught me everything about baking and also Bruce's Grandma McQuary who gave me her recipe. We had jam from my mom, the butter was put in a dish that Randy Portolese, my bro in law gave me, a really cool antique one. The dinner was complemented by a nice Syrah from our friends' winery, Elemental Cellars. It was dee.. lish!

All in all, our Christmas was awesome, we capped it by watching "It's a Wonderful Life" like we always do, complete with all the commentary. We all cry or tear up. It's wonderful. I love my family. We rock. Oh yeah, this year was also capped by Tyler doing the "Dougie" in the Ralphie bunny suit from "A Christmas Story". It's on YouTube. under... who knows what.

Thankful for memories

Hello bloggers and Happy Thanksgiving!

I am up late/early this Thanksgiving Eve... Thanksgiving Day. We traveled from Salem today and got to my parents late tonight. The intake of diet coke and the amount of time I snoozed in the car have made me awake past midnight. This year we have Thanksgiving dinner with my family and Christmas at home. I like this year, it is fun to see the fam and then relax and spend Christmas in our own house.

I have a bit of angst every time we travel to my childhood home. Where I currently live requires us to travel from Salem, OR to Eastern Washington. We go north on I5, which is always fun on a holiday weekend.. we hit I 205 (equally as fun) and then 84 and the Gorge which is full of gale force wind, rain and endless amounts of trucks. I usually lose 3-5 years from my life as Bruce navigates this each time. That isn't the angst, though.
The last part of this trip requires going by my grandparents' old homestead. It's not their original homestead, that place still stands, but it's the place they lived that I have the fondest/newest memories of. It no longer exists. Their old house/barn/yard and everything has been leveled. It's been years now, but every time I drive by there, my stomach knots up. I just HATE that it is gone. Tonight, however, we were approaching it and it was dark out, so I was unsure of the exact spot. I knew the roads and landmarks leading up, but as the time came to pass the empty place where their home once stood... I missed it.
Instead, I conjured up a memory of being there. There are so many, but the one that came to mind was of Nana making up Pepsi floats one night. I was there, the only grandkid (what a treat) and we were listening to the Prescott Football team at a playoff game on the radio. It was the year that we won state! Epic for our small town. This wasn't the state championship game, but a very important one, none the less. Nana was making Pepsi floats and we were all gathered around the radio and it was a wonderful memory.
It occurred to me that I don't need an old house or barn or yard to have the memories that were made and still are alive in my mind. I spent hours upon hours there, learning to bake, helping Nana in her yard, listening to her tell stories, "working" harvest with she and Mew as they spent their retired years still both working longer hours than most people do during their normal careers.
I have some objects from Nana and Mew's house. I own some of Nana's baking bowls and always think of her when I use them. I have some quilts and afghans, I love that she wanted me to have her Deacon's bench and there are still some yarn scraps and crochet needles in it that I can't bear to take out. I loved my Nana dearly and still wish she were able to meet all of my kids and get to know them, but some day in Heaven, they'll all have a grand time getting acquainted.

So, I'm thankful that I have a lifetime of memories to conjure up whenever I pass the old place where Nana and Mew used to live. I am very blessed to have had them as my grandparents.

Happy Thanksgiving, I wish for happy memories for all.

Dudster

Christ in Thanksgiving and Thanks in Christmas?!

I am on purpose writing a blog about Christmas before Thanksgiving, to accentuate the fact that I am on a bit of a rant.

There has been some talk in the media regarding the "even earlier than usual" Christmas decorations in the stores. I have grumbled every year about the early, like having the cheap post Halloween candy display flanked by a reindeer... get your own candy Rudolph!

I just drove Megan to her friend's for a sleepover and passed a house that is all decked out. Again, my immediate thought was "Wow, in the daylight, your approximately 6 blow up features that aren't blown up, look a bit like they've been in a war... and lost." I also had the thought that "Since when are woodland creatures playing on a see-saw a sight that makes me say, 'Thank you God, for sending us Your son.' " Then I was immediately a bit ashamed of myself. Examining oneself is probably a good practice from time to time... enter sarcasm punctuation.

Who am I to judge someone based on the decor of their house at Christmas? Shame on me. For all I know, they have a wonderful relationship with Jesus and choose to celebrate the season by decking their house like Clark Griswold, their choice. I choose, instead, to not sit in judgement. I will hope that the early decor in the stores provides an extra conversation for each Christ follower to have with a friend, child, parent or whomever about Christmas that otherwise may not have happened.

Now, this is the beginning of the week of Thanksgiving, a holiday oft overlooked in preparation of Christmas. Well, this Thanksgiving, I choose to be thankful for all the early bird Christmas people, all the Clark Griswolds and the chance for this Christmas to be awesome, let's break down that word... some awe. I hope you have "some awe" for our wonderful and very awesome Savior, whose birth we celebrate this season.

Now, go overeat, overbuy and overdecorate!

Dudster

Blog Brag on my Pirates

I must start this blog with a disclaimer... there will, no doubt, be a bit of biased opinions displayed throughout this blog entry, they are based on a bit of maternal instinct and a bit of love of all things Whitworth... there, I'm covered for the attorneys.

I am the mother of 2 boys/men children. They are Tyler and Trent and they are 2 1/2 years apart in age. They delight me. They, for the most part, always have. There were some times in there during the toddler years that I questioned my "delight." I am also mother to a darling girl, but sorry Megs... this post isn't about you right now.

My boys are runners, Bruce and I are both runners and pretty much LOVE that our boys are runners. There was a time when Tyler was a senior in high school and Trent was a freshman in high school that they were both on the same team. The West Salem Titans. I told Tyler that year that he was allowed to treat Trent like a freshman, but not like a little brother, that was the code. He did. They were district champs, Trent made varsity, represented, it was a good year to be a Dudley.

Fast forward to now... Trent decided to also attend Whitworth University, the very same institution his brother attends. I think that the coach was a big influence on this decision as was the fact that Trent witnessed the TEAM in action for these past 3 years. We've been fortunate enough to feed them several times at our house before meets and go to enough meets that we've grown quite familiar with Toby and the TEAM dynamic. I could go on and on about it, but instead I'm going to fast forward again to today, which was their conference meet.

Trent had been running poorly in the first half of the season, he'd been having good workouts but the races were horrible. It was just a "thing" he was having to work through. Toby and his teammates were helping and we were trying, but yeah, it was a tough start.

As luck would have it, the conference meet was hosted by Linfield and was quite near Salem, so the TEAM was able to come to our house and eat the night before. This, basically, makes me so happy... pause for the happiness quotient.... not enough, but I'll move on. I pretty much LOVE having 27 runners in my house... seeing the shoes in my entry way... their smiling, hungry faces... watching my crazy dog freak out and run from kid to kid for a pet.... my heart is so full. Toby's smiling face and, oh yeah, this time he brought the new Athletic Director along... so, yeah, I'm pretty much firing on all pistons.

They arrived... they prayed, they ate, they had fellowship with each other and the parents who were there and they left... it was awesome as always. My parting shot as they thank me is "Run fast" that's all I really want, my competitive nature is just to win.

Now, it's race day, we had the parents of the captain spend the night, Sue and Jim Jenkins, amazing, quality folks who reared an amazing, quality kid, go figure! Sue and I had discussed that the kids seemed a bit subdued at the dinner, not as goofy or loud as usual, we couldn't put our finger on it, but the adjective we came up with was "focused". We felt good about it, but being the crazy running moms we are... we both woke up feeling nervous for them, so silly, but yep, we were. We arrive at the course super early. Chatted with coaches and other parents... poised ourselves to watch the girls run and do a "dry run" for the boys' race.

Boys' race: Oh my... that's all I can really muster for this re-telling... I have in my mind this really cool movie footage from the race that "Seabiscuit" ran in that movie... all goes silent... and then the old time announcer voice comes on... and announces the race. Basically, the Whitworth boys ran out of their minds and won! I screamed my face off! I think I pulled something in my back... my throat is hoarse... my head was pounding from yelling. Aaron and Trevor ran awesomely... Tyler ran out of his mind... Eli outkicked Willamette's #4 in the last 50... Mark ran his face off.... I could go on and on. I was high on Whitworth runners and their amazing showing. I sort of hobbled over to the finish area and found them all and hugged/high fived/stared in dazed confusion at them... I had done the math and thought they won, but we were still a bit scared.

Then, the TEAM gathered together, no coaches around, just this young group of boys... they prayed, they thanked God for their race, they circled up and just glorified God. There were some moms crying... I wasn't among them... and then I realized why. I LOVE this TEAM... I have a senior on this TEAM... but I am so fortunate that I also have a freshman on this TEAM... I don't need to mourn the loss of it yet. I was immediately sad for those moms. I feel their pain and in 3 years somebody better get a really good counselor to help me.

So folks, this blog ends with this... sending your kids off to college is a scary/sad thing, but I will say that at least for me, I have a peace about the place they landed. I pretty much love their coaches and feel like God put them where He wants them to be and for that, I'm most grateful and humble.

Go Pirates!!! Kick some major "Booty" at Regionals!!!!!!!!

Mama Duds

PS.. the New Athletic Director got to witness first hand his very first Conference Championship, so yeah, that is another awesome thing too. He's a baseball guy and was very interested in the World Series game that was happening during "carbo load" time... October is XC time, NOT baseball... sorry!

You Da Manns!

This blog is dedicated to the Manns... that is Josh and Bex Mann... and Mercy...

I had this thought that I would be able to let the fact that the Manns were leaving our life go by.... I thought that I would be able to say a very feeble goodbye at their last staff coffee and that would be a goodbye... I was very wrong. Let's start at the beginning, a very good place to start.. if you are Maria Von Trapp... I'm not, but let me try. I have a very vivid memory of Josh Mann as an intern at SAC. I was working with the Preschool staff, Tess and Nancy, in a not on official staff payroll sort of way, but getting paid sort of way. Josh was an intern under Erik and was doing events and in that arena was my eldest son's assistant pastor. My early memory is of Josh seeking to have lunch with Nancy and Tess and me... he made it happen and ate with us and asked questions of us... if memory serves, Nancy made a very inappropriate fart joke... you adjusted quite well, I was impressed by your young, Doogie Houser self.

Tyler, my eldest would invite his friends (non churched kids) to events and Josh was "the main guy" who would engage. I have major recollection of follow up conversations with those kids about the "cool church dude". Always engaging, Josh, from the beginning.

After those times, I just praise God for the fact that He placed you in my kids' lives. Trent has been blessed by you... a million times.. and Megan... the same. I can't articulate, I just feel like God placed you into the middle of the Dudley's lives... for real, I'm so blessed that you have been the Pastor that God placed in my kids' lives. I pause here, because I can't articulate the emotion I feel here. (Sob) just doesn't seem to do it justice, but suffice to say.... there are tears on my keyboard.

So, Bex, on to you... I pretty much love you, so THAT is awesome for my crying self.... I feel like you and I are a lot of the same person. We both married young and also, I feel like our young marriages have faced a lot of the same obstacles.... call me crazy, but I know what I feel, call me on this, I'd love to share.

I have a very vivid memory of you sharing about your miscarriage with me... I shared with you about mine. I had one before I became pregnant with Megan. I know that God orchestrated mine and yours and that He had a plan for both of us to have our darling daughters as His plan unveiled... so happy that I could watch both of those plans play out. I love that I got to meet your daughter... I wish that my daughter could have become her best babysitter, but perhaps her friend she met at YouthQuake... I love God's plan....

But Bex, I do feel like God put you in my life and me in your life for a reason... our stories are close. We married young, our husbands are similar... I feel like we are a pair... please keep in touch.

So, the last "thing" to this blog... I was at the front desk today because our Monday girl got sick, I was sitting there answering phones and in walks Josh.... He waves at me....I believe he was leaving a key or something for Tim... doesn't matter, He waves.... I wave and immediately realize... Oh my Goodness...!" I say, " Good bye! Thank you for Pastoring all of my kids." He says, "Your kids are awesome." I love that boy... I reply, "I hope Trent can intern at your church." To which he replies, he hopes so. I say, that we love you and he is gone.

I am, in a weird way, glad that I'm the last interaction Josh has at SAC... Bex was the "girl Friday" as her first job... Josh and I go way back for '"jobs" here... I feel like it's appropriate.

I pray for Fox Island and the Manns, I just love that God has a plan for them, praise You God for your plan at Fox Island. I can't wait to see what You have planned for them.

The Long Haul

So, anyone who has any interaction with me, whatsoever, knows that I am an avid runner.  I have run all of my life.  I have a vivid recollection of my sister and I climbing up the hills in the wheat fields behind our house and running along the little patterns that the farm equipment had left preparing the field for seeding. Judy didn't enjoy running as much so she would usually stop and find dirt clods and try to hit me, but I would just run and run.  I loved it.  


I was fairly fast in small spurts too and would brag to my 2 older siblings, they'd get mad and tell our dad that I was bragging about beating them.  He thought he'd teach me a "Tortoise and the Hare" type lesson so he told them to challenge me to a race to the end of the pasture and back.  That would be about a mile and a half, give or take.  I eagerly agreed and took off like a shot.  They took a more educated approach and jogged along knowing that I'd die.  I was probably 8 and they were 10 and 11.  I crushed them.  I believe that on that day my dad decided I should run. 


 I played basketball, volleyball and softball instead.  Finally, in my junior year Dad managed to convinced me to go out for the track team.  I loved it, I made it to State, the following year I was 2nd and 4th in the 2 Mile and the Mile.  I went to college and ran and found a new love of Cross Country, which my small school never had.  I met my runner husband, my life changed because of running. 


Life went on and there was always running, it morphed from the competitive collegiate running into other racing, but somewhere along the way, I just realized that running is part of what God designed me to be.  I love it, it makes me... me.  I have heard all the funny jokes from "non runners", they're very clever.  I don't condemn, I run because I was made to enjoy it.  I have run 2 marathons, they each deserve their own blog entry, so I won't bore you with the details.  I LOVE Hood to Coast and have run many other "fun runs", but I must say that my favorite running memories are just me and the pavement, bark dust or gravel trail.  I pray while I run.  I solve lots of world problems and Dudley problems while I run.  I cry, sometimes, while I run.  There was a time in 2008 when I refused to run because my friend John Stumbo was so ill that he couldn't, so I wouldn't.  Then, when I resumed, I realized that I could cry and pray and run.  Multi faceted.  


So, this boring blog running story must have a point.  I am injured. DUMB!   I had been blissfully injury free for my entire career until... I got old!  In '09 I hurt my Plantar Fascia and long story short, my buddy/PT Josiah Faville fixed me up.  It was a process, but I was back in action. 


 Then a few months ago I hurt my hamstring.  I've been in PT again with the awesome PT Josiah since a while, I've lost track.  We were making progress, I was a puzzle which Josiah tried to piece together, apparently my SI joint was/is out of whack which made the hammy vulnerable.  Anywho... skip the boring PT stuff/torture (sorry Josiah) and fast forward to me attempting my 3rd "return to run" fiasco.  I basically am failing miserably at it and the hamstring is yelling at me about it and I FB message Josiah sniveling as always.  Bless his little heart, he emails me this long email today about the history of my injury (data backed studies) he dummies it down for me to understand that basically, the extent of what I've done to my hamstring over years of abuse and other circumstances means that I'm not running for a few (couple?, wishful thinking) months.  (Sigh, gulp, nope, not gonna cry).


Now, the title of this blog is "The Long Haul".  I've trained for many events in my years of running.  The marathon training is the long haul type of stuff.  I get it, I need to put in the hours of doing the exercises to strengthen this and that and get my hammy back to healthy. I need to undergo the lovely scraping and other things Josiah does to my leg to get it healthy. (no complaining allowed, he is ruthless)  


I have no doubt I'll run again, but in the meanwhile I am figuring this out.  God always provides me with a gentle or sometimes a plain old smack in the side of the head lesson.  This week it was in the form of my dear friend Don Bubna leaving this earth and entering Heaven.  What a party there must be.  My job at church is planning services and I am in the midst of doing that for Don and his family.  I love to think about the "Long Haul" that Don had here on this earth.  He encountered many bumps bigger than an injured hamstring.  He ran the race quite well and he is reaping the rewards right now.  


Pastor Don Bubna, thank you for teaching me so much about how to serve families during their times of grief.  You taught me so much and you always made me feel like a million bucks.  Love you friend. 


I am signing off, I will limp to bed, try not to cuss my failing leg and the pain it brings me... deep sigh... yeah, the long haul, I can do it and some day this blog entry will make me scoff at my whiny self. 


Dudster

HTC... PS

I have fully recovered from this year's Hood to Coast extravaganza. I blogged about it, I got my sleep in, I cleaned up the "bag of goodies". I feel like it's done. I have been, however, processing what next year may look like. I have been asked by the namesake of our team to retire the name. He made a good point.
We started the first year with "He's alive". John had barely survived his horrible encounter with the mystery illness and was slowly recovering when we embarked on Stumbo's Prayer Warriors, year one. He was there in the flesh to see us off that year. Very weak still and his voice was not so strong, but he showed up to send us off, such a blessing to us.

The next year was marked with a slight change in roster and a new shirt design that had "Run John Run" logos all over the place. I remember very well when I gave John the shirt that was made for him with that on it. I held my breath, worried that it would make him sad, but he loved it! He was doing way better health wise that year. He showed up to send us off again.

This year, he is doing even better with his health, he was not in Salem, but up in Gig Harbor, but still in touch with us. He actually called us prior to my van leaving the church to tell us a story as a send off. He had been at his new PT place and had worn his "Run John Run" shirt. The lady there asked him about it and he was able to share his story of near death and healing with her. Very cool to hear that our silly shirt is sparking conversations about much bigger things.

John Stumbo, you are a miracle. I count you as a friend and am so happy to have captained a team named for you. I will honor your wishes and retire the name. I am also retiring the team, at least with me as captain. I have thought about it a bunch and decided that my captainship is done. I pray daily that you will run again, I feel in my heart that you will. My recent injury has given me pause for much thought on this. I do love a good event like Hood to Coast, but I really just love running. My best runs are rarely from an event, but more often from a run where nobody is there. I miss those runs as I suspect you do St. Umbo. There will be a day in the future when you are running again and I will get another HTC team and you will be my number one recruit. I have my other "dream team" people in mind too, but alas, for now... I am retired.

Dudster (retired captain) has left the course.

Hood to Coast 2011

Greetings all!

Well, we managed yet another completed HTC. This was the 3rd year for Stumbo's Prayer Warrior to embark upon this adventure. It didn't come without many bumps in the road. Our roster changed more in the past 9 months than Erik w/a K changed his underpants. One change that I certainly can speak to is that I didn't get to run for the first HTC since 1999. I have been nursing a hamstring and it just didn't happen for me, but I captained the team and even rode along with the crazies in Van 2. Here are a few of the highlights:

- Erik brought granola again and offered it up quite often... AGAIN. It appeared to increase in volume as the race ensued, not sure what is in that stuff, but probably not the best diet food if it grows.

-Another repeat experience is that Erik's bag seemed to vomit repeatedly and parts of it could be found all over the van, another phenomenon that we can't explain. (Love you Erik, thanks for making me think of Trent, so I wasn't missing him so much)

- Kara, our loudest and most excited cheerer and most fun lady ever couldn't run this year, battling a souvenir she brought back from Egypt named "Perry site" nasty little guy. We missed you terribly Kara. Even in her absence, she was felt because she sent along her famous Energy Balls and it turns out our infantile van never tires of laughing when one of us says "balls". Awesome.

- Shannon brings a plethora of wipes that could probably stock the shelves of a Walgreens. We all partook of them and enjoyed them very much. We also learned that during a run she can stop, drop and poop in 10 seconds, impressive by any standards, wow, I must pause here for how impressive that is.

- And speaking of poop... Erik giving a poop pep talk through the Honey Bucket walls... epic. I am standing in line waiting my turn with about 5 people and this uproarious laughter erupts from the line of HB's. Someone comments "They're having fun", I sheepishly look at them and say "Those are my teammates, that's how we roll."

- Steve Unwin, Stallion, warrior, awesome teammate extraordinaire and can puke like nobody's business. Oh man, you rock dude! You are my hero. Side note, watching how you love to tease Erik is one of my favorite things too. So fun watching you two brothers.

- Jaque, our driver and resident mom of all. Thanks for all you did to help our team and for bringing your sister along to run, very cool. You two managed to smuggle a small grocery store of food aboard, not sure how you managed.

- Beeks! Our last minute sub and Rookie of the Year! Having just had an appendectomy like 3 weeks prior, Beeker was feeling this weird feeling where her appendix used to be, I named it the "Appendix Void". What a trooper, powered through the pain and ran like the wind and also was awesomely funny, W00t! You rock girl!

- Mandee, our tall girl ;o) rocked it. Even though her buddy Kara had to back out last minute, Mandee stepped right in to the weird bunch than made up Van 2 and cracked wise and ran well and even recovered from the fact that Beeks kept calling her Megan. Bah!

- In a series of unfortunate events we were bumping up against not being able to finish. There was talk along the last legs about course closure and we were watching the volunteers pick up garbage, we had a looming time of 8pm for our last runner to leave that exchange. We did some math and realized that it was going to take some tough running and creative captaining to pull this off. I shall evoke my 5th amendment rights here in case the HTC officials are reading this, but basically, Erik had to run this 8.12 mile last leg that changed since last year. It used to be a flat 7 1/2 mile leg and now it's arguably the hardest leg in the race. Horrible. Oh my. As we drove it and realized what poor Erik had agreed to, my stomach lurched, my heart hurt and I was thinking I would be permanently "defriended" by him. The one shining silver lining is that he looked stunning. He had grabbed the bright pink vest just because it already had a number on it. He borrowed Beeks' hand held water bottle and, oh yeah it happened to be bright pink and then he got up to the exchange and had forgot his headlamp, so Shannon let him have hers, you guessed it... PINK! He looked glorious. He killed it! Ran that horrible leg like a champ. He came in, handed off and proceeded to wretch his guts out, so freaking awesome! Made my captain heart so proud.

We made it! The announcer at the finish always says each team as they cross. When Shannon was spotted, he said "Team 105, Stumbo's Prayer Warriors, your runner is coming." We all excitedly assembled, ready to jog the last 100 meters with her. He looked at us and said "What's a Stumbo?" I don't recall what we said, but I remember thinking that I would love to sit down with that guy and tell him all about John Stumbo. Our van did tell John's story a few times. There was a volunteer at one exchange who was very interested in it. He took a magnet and was going to go and read his blog. We prayed, we talked about John, we laughed, we pooped, we groused some, we did it. Sigh.

Waterworld

Hey bloggers, I am at home alone tonight and slightly bored (no offense to Rocky the wonder dog). Bruce is in Seattle and Trent is on a date with his Court and Megan is at Chloe's.

We've had a slight problem develop at the ranch here. Yesterday Bruce noticed some water leaking out of our rock wall in the front of our yard. He called a plumbing company (A1 plumbing) I've since heard that they're good, but let's face it, Bruce didn't make it too deep into the yellow pages when he "stumbled" upon them. Anyway, they are coming tomorrow to fix an apparent broken pipe. Cost is... how do I put this? I considered yanking Trent from his plan to attend Whitworth and sign him up for Plumber school. Yikes, spendy Wendy!

So, I find myself here tonight with no water. We could have water, but when we turn it on, it leaks like crazy and I'm a cheapskate and also we're fearful of what may be happening in the yard with erosion etc. Bruce was worried and suggested I go to a motel, I said "Nah, I'll get some big jugs for teeth, face etc and make it work. Well, I get home and there is a dishwasher of dirty dishes, a sink of dirty dishes, a dog dish with a dead spider in it, there is always laundry to do... and me with 4 gallons of water. I sighed, I might have had a small "Charlie Brown" shoulder slump and then it hit me. Gee, I have a very comfortable home with electricity and the option to stay in a hotel and some very minor irritants that will be fixed tomorrow when I pay people to fix our problem. I think God might have smacked me and my sniveling self.

Here is where I may be leaping in a very ballerina style sort of way onto my bandwagon. I sponsor a child in Haiti. It costs us a very small amount of money each month. It doesn't have to be Haiti or the organization I use, but seriously folks, consider your life right now without water or electricity. Not to mention food! For the tiny amount of money you can spend and give a family the piddliest of necessities... it really does break my heart. Just freaking do it. There, I said it. My water will be fixed tomorrow, A1 plumbing will be richer and the Dudleys will be... still just fine. Just water under the bridge right? It makes for good "Dudley Family Folklore". I do love a good story.

A Quiltervention

This blog is about my obsession with quilts. I think that obsession is a strong word. I will say that I feel compelled, but not a compulsion to buy a quilt (in the right price range) that I feel deserves a good home. To quote the late Maria Von Trapp, or at least the Hollywood version... Let's start at the very beginning... a very good place to start.

My quilt "obsession" was born in the 80's. My mother decided she wanted to learn how to quilt. My Great Aunt Margaret, who was a great lady and a great aunt, she also happened to be my "Great Aunt" as she was my Nana's sister. Aunt Margaret was awesome on many levels, but her quilting was legendary. Anyway, she gave mom the first quilt lessons. Mom got started on her first quilt creation. This process lasted for a long time. When the "quilting" time came, she set it up in our living room. When you quilt a large quilt there is this giant thing set up to stretch it out. We didn't have a large room for mom to use so she used the living room. I have a very vivid recollection of lying under the quilt and watching TV. This stage lasted for months.

Mom had anyone who came over quilt a bit on it. It became this very cool piece of Hall family folklore and quickly I was enamored with this thing. I lobbied hard, I wanted it. I hinted, I spoke outright, I really really wanted this quilt to be mine. My grandma, my Aunt Margaret, all of us kids, many, many people who I knew and loved had quilted on this. It contained fabric from every last thing my mother had ever sewn. It was a masterpiece. As I mentioned, I'd lobbied hard, but mom had a good poker face and I wasn't convinced I would prevail. One of four kids, how did I deserve this prize? It did so happen to be my birthday soon after the completion. I opened the bounty of presents and one remained. A very small little box... I figured I would have to be happy with a piece of jewelry. I opened it up and a tiny slip of paper was inside that said "quilt". I screamed! It was glorious and all mine. That wasn't my first quilt, but it remains a very special one to me. I have a few very special ones that I'll try to articulate. This blog may some day be in my will, pay attention!

The first quilt I owned was my baby quilt which was a green and white gingham quilt with little animals for the squares. I love that quilt and still hate the stupid Baby Alive doll that got battery acid on it. I salvaged it, but what a dumb doll. Side note, my awesome Aunt Margaret, bought me a quilt for my first baby at an auction that was yellow and white gingham with little animals, same pattern as mine, love it too.

I've bought some cool quilts over the years from estate sales or Ebay and they're cool, but not significant to me. Here are some special quilts I own:

My mom made me an awesome quilt for my high school graduation present, by this time, she was an awesome quilter and this one is a beauty and is hanging in my bedroom.

Wouldn't you know it, I married Bruce whose grandma was an awesome quilter. She made each of her grandkids amazing quilts which she not only hand quilted, but also did pristine needlepoint. Bruce's was of antique cars in a block style quilt, it's blue and white and amazing, love you Grandma Fry. You are missed, can't wait to see you in Heaven.

The treasure chest quilt that I found at Nana and Mew's old farm house. They had both passed, but the house still stood. It had been gone through, but a cousin had lived there and it still stood for some years. At one point Judy and I went through it, I found some cool kitchen stuff and in the spare bedroom was this quilt. Now, Nana wasn't a quilter so I know she hadn't crafted it, hard telling who had. It was really vibrant fabrics and a tie style, in really good shape, but the part I treasure about it is that it smelled of Nana's house. I just breathed it in, for months, for real, oh man, I love that quilt. It is hanging over the top of the stairs in my house and every time I see it, it makes me think of Nana's house and how much I loved that place.

The last of my most prized quilts is a new variety. It was given to me as a present from my friend Melissa. At the time, we were co-workers and she had pre-meditated, like a murder, this quilt. I have a vague recollection of her quizzing me about my decorating style and periods I like and she figured out that I liked vintage stuff. Anyway, she presents me with this amazing quilt of vintage fabric and it's seriously, the perfect, most beautiful quilt ever and BONUS, made with love from a dear friend. I'm not often left speechless, but this gift is probably the most thoughtful one I've ever been given and I love this quilt very much.

So, anyway, I know this was a long winded blog, but I'm serious about my love of quilts. They tell a story, they're beautiful and they keep you warm. I pretty much love them. Use this in my last will and testament, don't sell the special ones please, donate them to science or to the people who love them as much as me.

Dudster, hanging on by a very thin thread...

Father's Day

Hello bloggers!

This is Father's Day eve and I shall use my forum to write a tribute to the amazing fathers in my life. First, my own Dad, Jerry Hall. What a great father I am blessed with. Dad didn't have the best example to go by, but he beat the odds and became a really good dad without great training. Some of my fondest memories growing up involve my Dad. He would quiz me hours on end on my times tables while he milked the cow. I vividly remember sitting on the hay behind him while he quizzed me. I can still hear the milk hitting the pan and then the milk hitting the milk and can smell the barn. My dad, after doing a full day of work and coming home to hours of farm work, still had the time to help me learn my math.
Dad was a strict parent in the sense that you couldn't get away with disobedience, but he's a big softie. I could always count on a hug or a wink when I was feeling down. He challenged us to excel and for that I am truly grateful. I am a very competitive person and that trait has served me well and I can thank Dad for a lot of that. I feel like I could easily have become much more complacent about mediocre if I hadn't been pushed. As I've aged and parented my own kids I really have a new appreciation for how great of a job Dad did with us kids. He's a wonderful grandpa too and I love him very much.

Another great father in my life is my father in law, Gene Dudley. He also didn't have a great role model to learn this art. He not only rose up from that challenge of his early childhood junk, but became a wonderful Dad. He loves his kids and he loves his in law kids. I absolutely LOVE how much he loves my kids and what a great grandpa he is to them. The "Attaboys" are legendary in our house. I think my kids must have those little papers scattered all over this house. He always finds reason to praise. His stories are awesome and he is always quick with a laugh. One of the famous "Dudley Folklore" is during year one of my Dudleyness. They were visiting us in Germany and we were playing Scrabble. Gene, notorious for thwarting your efforts toward a triple word, took one away from me where I was planning to put "Quack" and reap huge points. When he laid down his dumb word, screwing up my plan, I gave him a forehead smack. He blinked twice... and then let out a huge belly laugh. I knew I would fit in fine in this family. Gene, I thank you for welcoming me and for raising a son to be a good father. You are loved.

My hubby Bruce is another father who deserves mention in this blog. He has been the ying to my yang, the Beevis to my Butthead, the Bad Cop to my Good Cop and Vice Versa. We make a good team. I do pretty good with the mommy thing, but Bruce brings a whole new element to parenting that I lack. I don't need to bore you with the details, but suffice to say, God knew what he was doing when He paired us up. I feel like we are doing a pretty great job, I love my kids and I love my partner and that is a good thing.

Lastly, the Father who I must praise is my Father God. Without Him, none of these blessings I spoke of would be in existence. He has shown us all how to be a parent. He is the Way, the Truth and the Light. Thanks be to God. Happy Father's Day!

Dudster

Graduation declaration

This blog is about my middle born child's graduation. Trent, my second born manchild is graduating in exactly one week. What does this mean to me? Well, it means that I am preparing for his open house on this Saturday, for one. We Dudleys celebrate early and get it over with. We are having a pre party and getting things started for all the grads. That's really the easy part, if you can believe it. Feeding people is kinda easy for me. Getting my house ready? Eh, I'll make it happen. Not too stressed about the party.... other than one small piece.
I have had this thought in my head that I needed to get Trent's scrapbook done, like literally all year long I've been internally nagging myself. He was 14 in scrapbook years... not one page of high school had happened. I had some of the photos copied, had purchased the actual book and paraphernalia and had great plans of making it happen. It didn't happen. I had resigned myself to the fact that it wasn't going to and then, in a moment of weakness... I decided that I had to make it happen. That moment was on Sunday of this week.
Fast forward: It's almost done. I am waiting on photos from shutterfly from his Sophomore year XC that our buddy Brian took, but other than that, it's actually ok. I am happy with the result. Here's the thing: The scrapbook really doesn't matter one iota, I guess that is really a word, no little squiggly line appeared under it. So, yeah, it really doesn't matter, what does matter is the unsettledness that I have been feeling regarding my little Trentie graduating. It was underlying and so I wasn't addressing it. I think it manifested itself in this silly scrapbook. I am really happy about Trent's plans, he's going to Whitworth, which is where his brother is, so that makes me happy. He'll have his brother and also we know the coach and are really pleased with the whole deal. I am just not ready to let him go yet. I really thought that the second kid leaving was going to be easier, man I was wrong. He's not even leaving yet and I'm a mess. We've had a few of the award nights that the school has. Trent has been a recipient of all of them, which is cool, but also just dragging out this event. He received accolades from his track coach at that event. He was recognized a few times at the senior awards night for brains and athletics and received the "Coach Award" for XC at the senior sports award night. It was fun to watch him shine, but again, bittersweet for the mama and papa.

So, the last scrapbook page I did for my Trentie: I captured a pic of him running this early spring, before Track. It was him running a hill workout right in front of his high school and there was a rainbow. I put that pic on the page and below it put this verse: "When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth" At the top of the page I put "Go with God" I love it. It made me feel such a peace. I gave my angst and unsettledness and all of the junk to God. So glad that God is so faithful to me and meets me where I'm at time and time again. Of course Trent will be fine. Of course he'll go and do great things for the Kingdom, why do I fret? Sorry God, sorry that I, yet again, question and worry.

Come close, listen to a story.

The title of this Blog is from a Phil Wickham song, which I love. The story he tells is that of Christ dying on the cross. A great story and perhaps I am trumping my own blog...

I love telling stories. I'm actually ok at it, I usually am just relaying something that happened to me or better yet, retelling a story I've heard.
This past weekend at my church we heard the rest of a story from a very special lady who worked at our church up until very recently as a receptionist and actually still fills in there in that role on a semi regular basis. Her name is Kathy Fairley and she has lived an amazing life. She is so humble that you need to literally pull the story from her.
I've known her for quite a few years and still only know a lot because of her being interviewed or from other people. This hero was the daughter of missionaries and became a prisoner of war in China. She lived in that camp for several years as a young girl separated from her parents. She was in the same camp as Erich Liddell, the famous missionary from the movie,"Chariots of Fire". She survived that and grew up to marry a man who she served with as a missionary in Africa.

My point is that, if you met Kathy, you would never think to listen to a story she might tell. Not being mean, but regular, busy folks just don't stop and listen to a story from someone who is elderly. Kathy wouldn't ever stop you and beg you to listen to her, it's not her manner, but I had this thought... a lot of the older folks wouldn't do that and what a waste. What a travesty that the younger generation aren't listening. This also got me to remembering times from my own past...

When I was 18, I worked in a grain elevator in Prescott, Washington. It was a great job. It was long hours, but it paid well and it was pretty big coup to get. I was going into my sophomore year at Central Washington University. I was on the Cross Country team and pretty serious about training. I awoke each morning at 5:30 and ran 2 miles. I got to work at 7:00 and worked until the elevators closed at 8:00 and then I ran home (4 miles). That was a 7 day work week unless it rained. If it rained, we only did 8-5. This history gives you some insight into my mind frame...

During harvest, times could be super busy with wheat trucks rolling in steadily or the down times where we got nothing. During those down times we passed time in various ways. I quickly found that I had a friend. His name was Merle Brown. He was like 80. It seemed like it at the time, but as I play out the numbers, he was probably more like 75. Merle would come and "Tell Story" to me. I enjoyed him, he was a cute little grandpa and I listened and, quite frankly.... I was bored, so he was fine. After a few weeks, he realized my training regime. He noticed that I was running home and started asking me questions. I told him how I was training for my college team. I thought he'd pat me on the head and say what a good job, etc etc. As I listened to his story, turns out that he ran really fast in college, like almost a 4 minute mile. Totally blew me away. Just goes to show that you might judge someone or not really listen or ... the scenario can go on and on. I love that I have my Merle Brown story. Merle passed away several years ago, but I love that he passed along to me his story. I feel honored that he trusted me with his PR's. I will always remember Merle.

The point, if I have one is that the title of this blog, "Come close, listen to a Story" speaks about listening to a story. We can all tell something, but if we listen... I think we can convey a lot more.