In 2013 Tom and I bought a cabin in the high country of North Carolina.
We named it Barefoot Cabin in order to mix our love for the beach with our love of vineyards. And it’s a cute play on words since it’s former name was “Bearfoot Cabin”.
We chose the small town of Banner Elk (BE) elevation 4300’, thus the title of this post.
It is conveniently located between Sugar Mountain and Beech Mountains—the closest ski resorts to Florida. This area is affectionately called, The Florida Alps.
It has the best restaurants all located near the intersection with the only traffic light. This also happens to be the place where our youngest daughter got engaged during the 4th of July Parade in 2017. The only gas station is located at the same intersection and still offers full service. If you don’t know what that means—look it up. A bit of history that makes me smile.
We bought Barefoot Cabin right after my Mom died.
She and I took many road trips to NC when I was a kid to pick blackberries, huckleberries and go ruby mining. It’s one of the finest parts of my childhood. She would have loved it here.
I say “here” because Tom and I drove up after Thanksgiving to pack away the Fall decor and spruce the place up for our winter guests. It is my favorite time to decorate.
Due to family needs we didn’t make it here last December. I realize how much I’ve missed our cabin.
Below are photos of our progress thus far. If you’re looking for a place to rent either to go skiing this winter, or to have a nice cool Summer retreat in 2022, you can check out information on how to do that HERE.
My last question was asked by Jeanine Byers of the Hallmark Christmas Life blog; “How do you – meaning you, personally – navigate ongoing grief and loss?”
Such a good question that has needed time to meld in my mind before responding. And I have prayed about the best way to do so.
Grief has been compared to waves that come and go, a roller coaster with highs and scary lows, or a journey that takes you places you never wanted to go. All are excellent comparisons. The thing is I have personally felt every one.
The waves of the sea are said to come in sets of 7. And the stages of grief are also said to be 7. Just as the waves vary depending on the wind above the waters surface, so too does my grief vary based on the winds of my emotions. Some days all is calm, other days the wind is violent and difficult to navigate through.
Jeanine watched a movie where the end hit her hard. I call those “rogue waves” that hit out of no where. She didn’t see it coming so the affects it had on her were greater.
Movies and music provide touchstones (parts that connect to you on an emotional level or shared experience). I’ve found when this happens the best thing to do is like a big wave—roll with it. It won’t last and it may be that my tears have been building and need release.
However, I have to guard my mind when it happens. Or I get on the emotional roller coaster that leads no where.
The grief I have experienced recently has left me sad. My brother died of Covid, but God determined the day he would take his last breath. This gives me peace because God is in control, I can trust Him.
Life is a journey and God has chosen an exit for each of us. He would that all of us believe in Jesus Christ for this is the door to eternal joy.
I have hope as a Christian knowing I will see my brother and my parents again one day in Heaven. My parents were both older (Mom 90 and Dad 81). My brother was only 66. He had so much ahead of him he hadn’t experienced yet. And that would be sad if this life was all there is. My belief in Heaven has made all the difference. He is experiencing a level of life now that I can only dream of.
I highly recommend Randy Alcorn’s book, Heaven. He has spent his life studying and forming a theology of Heaven that is compelling.
This is how I process ongoing grief, but everyone is different.
The best thing to do is to listen to those who are grieving. I’ve heard cliches are not helpful and I’ve found this to be so true for me. Just be present and let your grieving friend share. We don’t ever move on from the loss we’ve experienced, but we do move forward, some faster than others.
A good friend is there for the ride—whether it’s rolling waves, scary coasters or long road trips—whatever is needed.
“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” Proverbs 17:17 ESV
This is my 27th post in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to post everyday in November.
Today is 24 days of posts in November. I’m amazed I’ve made it this far!
Nikki asked a really good question about celebrating the holidays.
“I have been thinking about the differences in holiday celebrations now compared to when I was a kid. Our family isn’t quite as close-knit — everyone in my generation has moved away whereas my parents lived near their parents so we could all gather for the holidays. Have you noticed the same in your family?”
In my generation most of us stayed close to our parents, so holidays were always a big event.
Our children all moved away after they were married. Some it took years and our last one moved when she got married. All three living in different states from us.
I never considered this would happen.
When our daughter moved to GA with two of our grandchildren ages almost 4 and almost 2 in nearly killed me. I didn’t see this coming and my heart was broken.
I had well-meaning friends who said things like, “At least you are close enough to drive there and see them.” This was like pouring salt in my wounded heart.
But God! He had other plans.
My hope was that our family would share life together. We would be available to babysit so our kids could cultivate their relationship in the throes of raising a family. Holidays would be challenging in how we would seat everyone around the same table.
First our daughter, son-in-love and two grandchildren moved to GA. in 2011.
A year later my Mom died in 2012, leaving me feeling orphaned since my Dad died 9 years earlier.
Second, our son moved to Tennessee for his dream job in 2014. He took his sweet wife and three more of my precious grandchildren with him. While I was happy for the dreams they were pursuing, my heart was broken for what could have been. It haunted me daily.
Then Disney came out with a new movie and a hit song that was played everywhere. It had the three words I kept hearing God say to me. “Let it go!” I was afraid to let go of my desire for fear that my kids would never move back.
Finally, when our youngest daughter got married and moved to yet another state in 2018, I was undone. Finally I knew I had to let go of what I had imagined life would be to let my kids have the freedom to follow their dreams. I needed to be their biggest fan, not their strongest antagonist!
This made all the difference.
I was able to let go and trust that God was leading our kids exactly where he wanted them to be.
Our holidays change from year to year. We have enjoyed times where we are all together, but more times than not, we’ve had to adjust our expectations and enjoy the ones who were able to be with us.
Most times we are the ones who travel to see them because our kids and grandkids are a priority to us, even if it’s not convenient. I love them and anytime we are able to spend together.
FaceTime is an almost daily occurrence, and for this I am so very thankful. I think often of my grandmother, Grace, who moved away from her family at 16 years of age. There was no telephone, no internet, no cars even. Miles separated them and the only communication took weeks to receive.
As I write this we are with one third of our family for Thanksgiving. The other two-thirds are spending Thanksgiving with their in-laws. We are choosing to focus on being present and enjoying what is, rather than being sad over what could have been.
But God! He is the only reason I’m able to say this.
We almost lost two grandchildren in the last two years, and I lost my brother this year. The distance that separates us doesn’t seem as significant now.
As my youngest daughter recently wrote about raising an infant with special needs, “Every day is thanksgiving, and even though I can still struggle with a heart of complaint. I pray my perspective is always pointed to what God has blessed me with rather than what I think He has taken away.”
Yes, Perspective. it makes all the difference in how we move forward from grieving what could have been to what we’ve been given.
This is my 24th post in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to post everyday in November.
Yesterday I invited questions from readers, and I received some outstanding ones. Thank you all!
Tamara asked about our youngest grandson Elias.
Our daughter and her husband were expecting their first baby on January 29, 2021. Tom and I were so excited to finally visit them in Arkansas to see Heather pregnant. It was such a happy anticipation to welcome grand baby #9 and watch Matt and Heather receive the blessing of parenthood.
After our wonderful visit. I got a phone from her saying the doctor was putting her on bed rest. I flew out to take care of her and to help keep her baby safe and secure.
But what we didn’t realize was God was working to rescue Elias from a virus he had contracted during the first trimester called CMV. Babies that go full term with this virus often have very serious health disabilities including hearing loss, lung, liver and brain damage. Some don’t survive.
Elias Angel was born on October 14, 2020, at 24 weeks and 5 days. He was 1 lb 6.6 ozs and 12” long. Roughly the size of a water bottle.
Elias and Ollie Octopus at one month old
“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” Psalm 139:13-14 ESV
The NICU staff was amazing. Our daughter calls them God’s angels. They began Elias on medication right away to fight the effects of CMV. Everyday he surprised all of us making forward progress.
From his little NICU cubicle we were able to watch God do what He normally does in the “secret place” as Psalm 139 declares. We were in awe of this miracle being formed before us.
He was in the NICU a total of 116 days. When Matt and Heather were finally able to drive him home from Oklahoma to Arkansas (a two hour drive), Papa and Nana were there waiting to see and hold him for the first time. What a moment that was!
He was so tiny and quiet. The ventilator and his immature core muscles made his voice very weak. The only way we knew he was crying was when his heart rate monitor would go off. His care required 24 hour diligence with feeds and medications.
Fast forward to today, Elias…
Is still making forward progress, thanks to an amazing team of doctors and therapists
can hear well
can see and recognize people
Has the cutest personality
Loves to belly laugh (still quiet but now he’s audible)
Is trying his best to crawl
Is eating baby food
Has two teeth
Loves books
And kisses Mommy every chance he gets
His prognosis is wait and see. Every child in his condition is unique. There are no certainties. But one thing we know! But God! He has been leading every step of Elias’ treatment since the day He was conceived. He is our miracle baby and one whom we call our Tiny Warrior.
He now weighs over 14 lbs at 13 months of age.
I write a song for each of my grandchildren. This is Elias’ song, sung to the tune, Jesus Loves The Little Children…
🎶Nana loves Elias Angel. He’s as sweet as he can be. When he was born he won my heart, tiny warrior from the start. I thank God He brought you to our family!🎶
This is my 23rd post in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to write everyday in November.
It seems only right that I should share this with you now, on this week before Thanksgiving. Family Memories are what this holiday is all about and we have one that may outlive us!
My sister-in-law, Sherry, called with an idea to do something we’d never done before. It would include my daughter, Tracy, my daughter-in-love, Ashley, and my niece, Amy. Five total to do it.
The application was made and we waited.
When the call back came we were told to make a video telling them why we wanted to do this thing we’d never done before.
Since we live in the tourist capital of the world, we loaded up in one car and drove to Universal Studios. What better place to make a video?
We laughed more that night than we ever had. We kept asking ourselves, “What in the world are we doing?“
We turned in our hilarious video and we waited.
We received another call that they wanted to see us in person at, of all places, Universal Studios! Now it all seemed possible.
And it was. In 2010, the five of us appeared in the inaugural season of Steve Harvey’s Family Feud. All of our spouses watched from the audience as we attempted to answer ridiculous questions as the Top 100 survey respondents would.
Embarrassing to say the least.
The TV audience never sees what happens when the camera is ordered to “cut!” That is when the “comedian Steve Harvey” appears and shares stories not meant for television.
Many times I thought the producer of the show was going bust from laughing so hard. Steve was unpredictable when off-script and unleashed. She had to let him flow with his stream of thought or he would bust.
And we watched it all as our daughter was many times the brunt of his jokes. He called her “Crazy Tracy” mainly because she knew how to play and answered how she thought the those surveyed would answer. Not how she personally would.
We ended up being on 5 episodes, won the car and $25K. Those five shows were replayed over and over for years! We haven’t received any Facebook messages recently with the familiar, “I just saw you on Family Feud!” so maybe after 11 years it’s settled.
Are we glad we did it? Absolutely. Knowing what we know now about how it went would we do it again? I’m not sure. But we made a lasting memory in our family, and I got new bedroom furniture with my part of the pot. Not bad for 5 hours of embarrassing moments.
Today’s prompt is a great post to follow yesterday’s, I Hate Pandas, post. What do I love? This could be an entire month’s challenge because I have so many. I’ll give you the list first and then hone in on one of them.
God above all else. I spend the first hour of the morning with Him and reading His Word through the You Version Bible app on my phone. It is free and full of great devotionals too.
My husband of 42 years. Besides God, He is my why in all I do.
My three grown children and their spouses. I call them my “in-loves” because I love them, it’s not just a legal connection.
My nine grand-children. They are each unique and I couldn’t enjoy being involved in their lives more.
My hometown. Orlando has changed dramatically since I was born here in 1959. But it’s still home to me.
My extended family and the history we all share, including our grandparent’s 32 acres of groves west of Orlando.
Writing: Books, articles, blogs, newsletters (both neighborhood and Nana’s newsletter for my kiddos)
The beach
The mountains
Traveling and/or Road Trips
Birding
Photography
Planning events like parties, neighborhood events (the pandemic provided me with lots of opportunities to help with all of us being homebound.
Baking is my first love in the kitchen. My Mom wouldn’t let me cook since she used the pressure cooker to make meals fast after a full day at work. So I learned to bake. Favorite thing to bake? Pies
Cooking and having themed dinner parties. Favorite meal to make? Anything my husband loves. One of his favorites is Chicken Cacciatore.
Golf.
Reading, but this one often takes a backseat to all my other loves. I can get completely lost in a book, so it always feels selfish to block everything out to read.
Researchiing about things I don’t know–geneology, history, song lyrics I may remember wrong 🙂
Thanksgiving
Christmas
When Tom and I were first married he worked in retail. He was the area manager for 3 jewelry stores and I hadn’t yet found a job. I spent much of my time in our yellow-carpeted condo alone. Being such an extrovert this was hard. And I had moved away from another one of my loves–Orlando–to Bradenton, 2.5 hours away on the west coast of Florida. I was lonely and homesick.
The couple who managed the property where we lived was always home. She was such a kind lady and one day she asked if I’d like to come over and bake bread together? I jumped at the chance to have something to do and baking was always a favorite.
She started with helping me learn how bread dough should feel after kneading it. She was a hands-on teacher and this is how I learn best. I caught on quickly and was soon making homemade bread, hamburger buns and more. You just can’t beat the aroma of bread baking in the oven on a chilly day.
Next she moved on to a more challenging lesson – the art of making a flaky pie crust. She even shared her family recipe with me. I had no idea how this one day and this first pie would define my baking life. i.g. our family always celebrated birthdays with pie instead of cakes. It became our dessert of choice and for good reason. Mrs. L’s pie crust recipe is amazing.
So of all the pies I’ve baked, which is our family’s favorite? Apple Pie. It even won the blue ribbon at our county fair.
Debi Walter’s Blue Ribbon Apple Pie
INGREDIENTS
6-8 honey crisp apples
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
2 T. cinnamon
1/4 t. ground cloves
Nutmeg, freshly ground, about 1/8 t.
Butter
Milk and Sugar for the top crust
DIRECTIONS
Preheat over to 400.
Roll out pie crust and line the bottom of a 9″ deep dish pie plate. Core, peel and slice thin the apples in a large bowl. Pour sugar over apple and stir to coat. Pour in flour next and stir to coat. Add spices and stir well. You can add more spices to your liking. We like a lot of spices in ours.
Fill the lined pie plate by layer the apples one by one in a circular pattern starting from the outside to the center. Repeat this layering until you have filled the pie using all the apples. Dot with butter.
Roll out remaining pie dough and cover the apples, sealing and crimping the edges.
With a pastry brush lightly brush top crust with milk making sure it doesn’t pool. Sprinkle lightly with sugar.
Bake for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 and bake for an additional 45 minutes until bubbly. I keep a watch on the pie and usually lay a large sheet of foil over it to prevent over-browning.
Let pie cool completely before slicing to have a nice and neat slice of pie. But if you can’t wait, it’s great warm out of the oven with vanilla ice cream.
Bon Appetit
This is my 17th post in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to post everyday in November.
Our blogging prompt was to share a song lyric that means something to me.
There are too many to even begin to share, so I decided on a twist. I’m sharing the song lyrics I misunderstood as a kid and only recently discovered the correct words. I must admit this is embarrassing, but it’s understandable. I was attached to my record player as a pre-teen. I listened faithfully to Casey Kasem’s Top 40 list every Saturday. Once I heard the #1 song for that week I would get on my bike and ride it to the Five and Dime store (T.G. & Y.) to buy the 45 rpm before it sold out.
Music was my companion and my 10 year old friend’s companion too.
I remember us turning around in circles to the EP version of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida by Iron Butterfly. Why? Because we were kids and we had nothing better to do. I had a crush on Davy Jones of The Monkees and loved his British accent. My BFF loved Mike Nesmith and his beanie hat. Life was simple for us.
You have to realize we didn’t have Google in the 70’s. If we misunderstood a song lyric, the only way to find out the correct words was to buy the album where the lyrics were printed on the paper sleeve inside the cover. I didn’t have that kind of money, so I improvised, often at the top of my lungs I’m afraid to admit.
I gave my older brother, (who was a huge tease and my biggest nemesis), lots of material to mock me. And mock he did! I can laugh about it now, but as a ten year old I was humiliated more times that I can count.
Songs with lyrics I misunderstood:
“Hold me close I’m tired of dancin…” by Elton John is actually titled, Tiny Dancer, and was released in 1971. The line really says, “Hold me close, tiny dancer.”
“Blinded by the light. Wrapped up like a douche…” by Bruce Springsteen originally, but this version of Blinded By The Light was recorded by Manfred Mann in 1976. The line actually says, “…revved up like a deuce…” A deuce coupe more specifically. A fancy way to describe a sports car.
“I’ll light the fire. You place the flowers in the bras that you bought today.” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. Our House was released in 1970. The song has nothing to do with putting flowers in a bra. Haha! As a pre-teen I had never heard the word vase pronounced with an “ahh” sound. The song makes more sense as written, “I’ll light the fire. You place the flowers in the vase that you bought today.” And finally one more…
“Had a F-___ing nightmare, and a little thunder.” I almost didn’t share this one, but this will probably garner the most laughter from you. I know it would have from my brother. Yeah, I really thought that’s what this line said from Steppenwolf’s, Born To Be Wild released in 1968. I have never been one to cuss, so I would always skip this line. I could never understand how the radio station back then was allowed to broadcast such language. It never occurred to me I might have misunderstood the lyrics. The song actually says, “I like smoke and lighting, heavy metal thunder, Racing with the wind, And the feeling that I’m under.” How in the world I came up with those lyrics instead I’ll never know. But I’m grateful to be able to sing the entire song now if I so choose. And with a clear conscience.
I’m curious. Did you ever misunderstand the lyrics to a song? I’d love to hear your embarrassing story–I promise not to mock you. But I might laugh. We can all use some laughter these days.
I remember walking into her disheveled room not sure if she was any good at what she advertised. Her name was Marie Broadmeyer and she was to be my new vocal coach. Although in the 70’s the term was called “voice teacher”.
My Mom had signed both my sister and me up for lessons. We are six years apart; at the time she was 20 and an alto–I was 14 and a soprano. Together we had the sweet harmony that happens when sisters sing together.
Music comes naturally in our family; my Dad’s father had a beautiful baritone voice I’d only heard on a 45 rpm record made of one of his church solos at Roger Williams Baptist Church in Rhode Island. It was rich and soothing as he sang. He always said he loved singing so much he hoped he would die in the church choir. Prophetic, that’s exactly what happened. He gave his final solo performance, sat down in his seat and had a massive heart attack. I barely knew him, but I understood his love of music.
Back to Mrs Broadmeyer.
She was a large, old woman from Germany. Her strong facial features supported her rich contralto voice. We learned she was lauded all over Europe by reading the hundreds of newspaper clippings taped to the faded wallpaper surrounding her baby grand piano.
We had only 30 minutes with her per lesson, so there was no time to hear her story. She had us warm up with vocal stretches that always made me feel self-conscious, but what 14 year old isn’t self-conscious? After she was confident our vocal cords were ready, she would have us sing, O Danny Boy. Her baggy eyes watered as our voices filled the musty room. I used to believe our voices are what brought the emotion, but now I wonder if it wasn’t memories this song brought to mind.
I’ll never know.
Last night I went on-line to see if I could find any information about her life. Was she married? Did she have children? How did she end up in America? Was she born here or did she immigrate? How did this famous soloist end up in a dilapidated row house in downtown Orlando having to squeak out a living by giving voice lessons?
Once again, my immaturity didn’t lend me to ask such questions.
I did find out that she died in 1977 here in Orlando only four years after our time in her living room. She had 4 children, as far as I can tell, the last one dying in 2015. She was born in Germany in 1908 and died in 1977 at the age of only 69. I guess she wasn’t as old as I assumed.
Her husband who was 16 years older, proceeded her in death in 1969. She was widowed only 4 years when we started our weekly visits. I also found several arrival and departure dates of when she sailed to New York Harbor from Europe and vice versa. All in the 50’s confirming her frequent tours to Europe to perform.
This memory was vague as I started to write. But with a little research I was able to piece together quite a story.
Revisiting the lyrics of her beloved song, it seems appropriate to honor her memory with this final verse…
“But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying, If I am dead, as dead I well may be, You’ll come and find the place where I am lying, And kneel and say an Ave there for me. And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me, And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be, For you will bend and tell me that you love me, And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!” – – O Danny Boy
I’m grateful to have known Mrs. Broadmeyer. This ave is for her. May she Rest In Peace.
This is post #12 in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to post everyday in November.
My title is a play on a familiar cliche’ when you choose to think the best of someone–you give them the “benefit of the doubt”. However, that is not what this post is about. It came as a question in yesterday’s post by a reader/blogger I’ve met through my current UBC group. She asked the following…
“What made you doubt for so long your ability to write your grandmother’s story?” She added, “I’m sure you had what it takes in 2000.”
She is nice to make such an assumption, but looking back I can see how much I changed over those 12 years. My Dad passed away in 2004 (the first death of someone close to me since my grandmother died 25 years before him!) My two oldest children got married. We were blessed with 5 grandchildren in that time. Our daughter moved away with her husband and two of our precious grand kiddos (also the first in our family, which nearly killed me).
I have taken all the personality tests and they all come to the same conclusion–I feel things 100%. If you are hurting I’m going to put myself in your place and hurt with you. When my grand babies would FaceTime me crying because they wanted to come to Nana’s house, it ripped my heart out because they no longer lived minutes from us! I didn’t like the changes and the emotions were too raw for me to even think about writing.
I was discouraged. I felt like I didn’t have it in me to finish what I had started. I doubted. But what I didn’t realize was God was still at work finishing His promise to me that I would write my grandmother’s story.
Every heartache. Every delay. Every sad goodbye was teaching me things my grandmother experienced in her lifetime.
Her uncle had made an arrangement with her father that if he was able to stake two claims in the Indian Territory Land Rush of 1893, he would give her parents one of the claims.
Her uncle was successful, so she left her grandparents in Kansas when she was only 4 years old to move to what would soon become Oklahoma.
She experienced losses, disappointments and tragedy.
Once I realized how much I was learning about her by feeling her pain, I became better at documenting her story. I realized that God was intentionally delaying my progress to make me a better story teller.
Then, God had our friend’s fiancé move in with us not knowing how she would be a crucial piece of my writing puzzle. If she hadn’t come along I don’t think I would have finished in time. And I hate getting to the end of a big puzzle and realizing the last piece is missing. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.
Doubt has many benefits. Even when I lose all hope, God promises to complete the work He’s begun in me. That included helping me fulfill my life-long dream of writing, Through The Eyes Of Grace.
In what ways has a delay in your story or your goals helped you in the long run?
This is my 9th post in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to write everyday in November.
Savor every hour of every day. And no day makes this more obvious or easier than the first Sunday of standard daylight time.
In case you missed it, you gained an extra hour of sleep last night. Maybe you showed up to work or church an hour earlier and realized your mistake. It’s better to be early than late, my husband reminds me, and today it’s easy being early.
Savoring means to fully enjoy something, usually food. But today I want to focus on savoring Sunday. This has always been a special day in our family.
We go to our church’s service where we have gone since this church began in 1985. Our closest friends are there, and we celebrate the life we have because of Christ. Worship songs help us savor the time together, and hearing from God’s Word gives us fresh perspective for all the other days of the week.
Sunday meals were always a home-cooked tradition growing up. My mom would put a roast in the oven before we left for church, and then cook the sides of mashed potatoes with gravy, glazed carrots and hot buttered rolls when we got home.
When our kids were young we would sometimes meet my parents out for Sunday dinner, but more often we would come home. We didn’t have the budget for a roast dinner at home or dining out. But we had something else to look forward to…
Sunday afternoon naps. Need I say more?
Whether you remembered today began with an extra hour or not, make plans to enjoy your Sunday in a special way. It is a gift to be savored.
This is post seven in The Ultimate Blog Challenge to post every day in November
Write from the heart 