Our Best Girl, 2010 - 2023

 Me:  You just never think about 'the end'

Mark:  What?

Me:  When you bring home your new puppy.  You're so excited and happy.  Your puppy is so cute and happy.  You never even stop to think how hard it is going to be at the end.

Mark:  I think that can be said about a lot of beginnings.

--------------------

At one point we had 13 mouths to feed in our home.  

Mark told me no more animals.  If I brought one in, one had to go out. 

The chickens quit laying, so Mark got rid of them.  (Gave them away; did not 'off them')

My mom was lonely, so she took one of our cats.  (Always a scaredy cat; Mark felt she would be better as an 'only pet' instead of in our chaotic home where one of the other cats loved to chase her around and around.)

2023 was NOT a good year to be a dog in our home.  We lost two of 'em.  One unexpectedly in May;  One after a slow decline in December.

Our home is easier.  It's cleaner.   It's more lonely.  It's more boring.  It's emptier.  It's too quiet.  It's too sad.

--------------------

Sometime in the fall of 2010 Jenni called and asked if we wanted a lab puppy.  She knew I had wanted a chocolate lab, and while Mark didn't necessarily want a lab, he did want a bigger dog.

Some people had just had a litter of pure labs.  They were not selling them, but did want to make sure all the puppies went to good homes.  There was a little chocolate girl in the mix.  And a little yellow boy. 

Jenni and Dustin took the yellow boy;  We took the chocolate girl.  

We were supposed to get our puppy that Thanksgiving, but a phone call from Jenni informed us the momma was turning away her puppies.  We needed to come sooner.  We made the trip in early November to Texas to pick up our brand new puppy.  Our little Georgia O'Keeffe.   (We were in New Mexico at the time, so the name fit.  Georgia O'Keeffe, the artist, was also a New Mexico transplant.)

I still remember the trip back to New Mexico with her.  Mark drove, Georgia slept soundly in my lap, and Dolce kept staring at this new "thing" trying to figure out what it was doing in HER space.  At five or six weeks, baby Georgia was the same size as her 2 year old sister.

Georgia, from the beginning, was such a sweet, sweet doggie.  She was high energy, as all puppies should be, but she was just so good.  She loved people.  She loved other doggies.  She loved everyone and everything.

She, however, was not much of a 'retriever'.  She didn't fetch.  She didn't retrieve.  While she liked wading in the water, she wasn't much of a swimmer.  She wasn't much of a digger (yay!) as some labs and puppies are prone to.

What she wanted most of all was to spend time with her pack...and that was us.

Mark's all time favorite picture of his girl:

I have often said, "Georgia likes me, but Georgia LOVES Mark."  

When she was brand new, Mark would spend most of his spare time with her. We had a baby gate keeping her in the kitchen whilst she was being house broken.  Mark would spend hours in there with her.  Sitting on the floor talking with her.  Rolling a ball back and forth trying to get her interested.  And she would cuddle up on him and fall asleep.

Las Cruces had a nice dog park so, back in the day, I used to take the dogs regularly.  Georgia loved running and jumping and playing with the other dogs in the park. 

I come from a long line of dog lovers.  Bring your dog to holiday get togethers.  Let them hang out. 

Georgia LOVED it all.

As Georgia grew, Mark would take bike rides and Georgia would run along side him. Georgia took off like a shot.   Mark says the first 80 yards or so, Georgia was leading, but then eventually she would slow down, and they would be more in sync.

She grew and became such an integral part of our family.  She adapted wonderfully to all the changes that came throughout the years.  

We got Fritz, and she became his best friend.  We lost Fritz, and she was lonely.

We got Cecelia Beaux, and she became everything to Cecelia.  Cecelia would go nowhere, unless Georgia went first.  Cecelia would eat nothing, unless Georgia ate first.  Georgia taught Cecelia the ropes, and she was such a great big sister.  

We moved multiple times through the years, and, as long as she had her people, Georgia was just fine with each and every move.  

Mark and I both said over and over how easy she was.  "If she was our only animal, our lives would be so easy."  

She was so good.  She just wanted to please...and to love.

She even loved going to the vet.  She'd go in head held high and tail just a wagging.  (A happy Labrador tail can be a dangerous thing!)

And life was good.

And life passed too fast.

For over twelve years Georgia was the best and easiest dog ever.  

No issues.  No problems.  No worries.

Beginning of August all of that changed.

Mark and I were in Milwaukee for a Lutheran Convention.  Late Sunday night we got a phone call from Georgia's care givers.  She cut her foot.  It looked pretty bad.  Ok.  No worries.  Take her to the vet in the morning.  

A few stitches, and we thought all was good.

It wasn't.

She got her stitches out, but her foot refused to heal.  Even wearing a cone, our girl managed to chew off one of her own toenails.  Her foot must have been bothering her.

Georgia ended up in the biggest cone available, because she was determined to keep licking and biting her foot.

She ended up with this icky open wound.  The vet wasn't sure it would heal, but we had to try.  Meanwhile, we had to leave it open and let it bleed until finally a scab would form.  

She was a mess, but she was our mess.  We put down lots of old beach towels.  We cleaned and did laundry constantly, but she was our girl.

FINALLY her foot healed 

FINALLY we could get rid of that enormous, hideous cone.

And then....

She had a fat deposit on her chest.  Normally, not a big deal.  But again, Georgia's wouldn't heal.  It bled and bled.  

The vet decided to do surgery and remove it.  She healed nicely.

And then....

She couldn't breathe. Her breathing was hard and labored.

Back to the vet.

At this point I have NO IDEA how much money we have spent at the vet.  I could add it up, but it is probably better to not know.

Georgia had Pneumonia.

The problem with this was that her medications made her sick.  She began vomiting... and not eating.

With her upset stomach, she quit eating and drinking.  

She was shrinking.

She was dehydrating.

And she was NOT keeping her meds down.

We made a couple trips to the vet for IV treatments and shots.

She would improve.  She'd be good for about 36 hours, and then it would all start again.

Back to the vet for another IV and more shots.

Eventually Mark was giving her shots at home.

And she did good.

For a while.

She had a good week.

Saturday I was making eggnog.  She was in the kitchen with me.  I saved all the egg whites for her.  I was happy.

I was going to babysit James, and before I left, I fed Georgia.  She ate.  She wasn't eating a lot at this point, but she WAS eating.  And keeping it down!! 

I called later that night to check on her.  She wasn't eating.  Mark was worried.  I wasn't worried, because she had eaten a few small meals that day.  Her tummy was sensitive.  I wasn't worried.

Sunday morning, I knew.

Sunday morning, I took her collar off.  

I knew she no longer needed it.

Every other day I felt as though we were keeping her alive.

By Sunday, I knew we were prolonging the inevitable.

I was ready to call the vet;  Mark was not.

"She can't go for a walk, but let's take her for a drive.", he said, "One last drive around the neighborhood."

So we did.

She seemed to like it.

She would sometimes lie her head down, but other times, she would pick her head up and look around.  

Mark wanted to make it a good day for her.  I think we both knew we were reaching the end.

We did not know the end would be that evening.

When she went down, she went down quick.

By that afternoon, she could no longer stand.  

That did it for Mark.

We called the vet.

She could meet us at 5:30.

Mark had an old dog bed in the back seat of the truck.  It had been there all these months.  He picked her up and placed her in the truck.  I sat beside her and pet her and talked with her.  I told her soon she would feel better.  She would be good.

It didn't take long.  Her body was ready.

She probably would have gone on her own over night, but this way she went peacefully. 

Georgia loved to lie in the grass.  Sun shining down on her.  While she was sick, her favorite spot was our front yard.  Lying in the grass.  

While she was sick, Mark was her primary caregiver during the day.  Every day, Georgia was his priority.  His projects got put on hold. Meals even got put on the back burner.  All that mattered was taking care of Georgia.

While she was sick, I was her primary caregiver over night.  I would get up with her and take her to the front yard.  We would go out multiple times during the nights.  She would lie in the grass, and I would take in the quiet dark of the nights.

When we got home from the vet, I stood on the porch.  I took in the quiet dark of my empty yard.

And I cried.

For my girl.

Mark got out his best scotch, and we both drank a toast to "our best girl".

We are not OK.  But we will be.

A Beautiful Soul

 My cousin, Beth, just received the highest honor one can achieve in Mary Kay.  

If you are now, or have ever been, in the world of Mary Kay you absolutely understand the honor of receiving "Ms. Go-Give".

When Mary Kay Ash began her company, she was all about women helping women.  Women building up women.

We all know we grow when we help others grow.  We excel when we help others excel.  The more we give, the more we help, the more we love on others the better it is for them, but oh, how much better it is for us as well.

Mary Kay Ash built her company on these ideas.  These ideals.

This company is made up of absolutely, wonderful, fantastic, giving  women. Thousands of them.

I had a brief Mary Kay career.  I sucked at Mary Kay.  I gave away WAY more Mary Kay than I ever sold. But I will forever be thankful to God for my Kary Kay years.

For starters, I had Beth as my Director, my mentor.  And she is amazing.  She has so much patience and love and knowledge to share.  She taught me so very much.  And not only about Mary Kay.  About life.  About faith.  About giving.  About serving.

But also, because through my Mary Kay years I met some of THE MOST amazing women.  Beautiful faith-filled women who I have looked up to, learned from and leaned on. 

When you have an entire national company that is made up of thousands and thousands of amazing, giving women, you can see the prestige in winning the honor of "Ms. Go-Give".  

I hope I am not rambling on too much, but I am trying to show how humbling it is to, not only be nominated for this award, but to win it.

This is a quote from one of Beth's friends:

"I want to show you the heart of Mary Kay and this fantastic woman, Beth Hirsch Lange whom I had been blessed to know for many years. Last night she received the exclusive Annual Miss Go-Give award at Sapphire Seminar. My heart was so filled with Joy 🥰 

The highest honor a Sales Director can receive in Mary Kay is not how much you sell, or which career car you earn, but how many lives you bless through service to others. 

Thank you Beth for being the epitome of a humble servant. Thank you for being a blessing in my life and in the lives of everyone who has the honor of knowing you. 💞"

Here is what Beth had to say herself:

"Receiving the highest honor in Mary Kay from one of my dearest friends. A moment I will never forget🩷 I can't possibly put in to words what this night meant to me after a year of the highest highs and deepest lows. If you have a few minutes I've attached a link into my world and this very special 10 minutes in time. Thank you to every single friend that shared pictures, sent kind words and genuinely shared in the joy of this moment. Congratulations to every monthly nominee...each of you deserving of this honor- you all make me better🩷My Mary Kay Life- it's just the best.  #marykay60 #go-give.

https://youtu.be/r-h3ZNIbkvc"

If you just read Beth's words, you noticed she mentioned a year of 'highest highs and deepest lows'.  

That has been her year.

This is what she had to say about her year:

"When things settle down." These words- one of the biggest lies we can believe- that life will some day settle down.  Friends- life won't settle down- but your soul and spirit can. They can slow and rest in the peace of God all while working and serving and rising up to the challenges that will... hear me... just keep coming. Today I wake up to an amazing celebration of my team that just completed our BEST YEAR EVER in business. I will post congratulations on countless friends that had incredible wins in the Mary Kay world.I also wake up today still in the middle of some incredibly challenging life yuck. And so do you. My photo app is bursting with evidence of Gods goodness, provision in another year of unexpected joys and sorrows. Maybe today is the day you stop waiting for things to "settle down" and move into the calling God has on your life?. Congratulations to my team- you make me so proud. Thank you to my customers that are loyal and fun and make my job a delight- I love serving you. Happy New Year Mary Kay Family- the best is yet to come!!!

#480,000 #bestyearever #myMKlife"

I love how Beth refers to it as "challenging life yuck".

I will not share Beth's personal story.  If you know Beth, you already know it.

If you don't know Beth let's just say that whilst she was having her BEST year career wise, she was struggling with some gut-wrenching developments in her personal life.

Beth knows what many of us find out day by day, year by year.  Life is beautiful.  And life is devastating.  And sometimes life is both - at the same time.

But notice, even as she deals with her situation, she is continuing to help and encourage others.

That's Beth.

Always.

Lange Family

 My dad came from a family of eight children.  Seven boys.  One girl.  

The one girl was my dad's twin sister.  

She used to joke that the only way she got into this family was by bringing a boy with her. 

A couple jokes my dad liked:

When asked who was older, he would reply, "She is.  I always let ladies go first."

When asked if they were identical, he would answer, "No.  She's a girl, and I'm a boy."

He referred to her as his "womb mate".

I know twins share a bond that others do not understand.  When my dad died, it was my aunt I felt the most sorry for.  Even more than either my sister or myself.  It was my aunt, I knew, who was hurting the most.

At my dad's funeral, after the others made their way to their seats, I noticed my aunt was still at the back of the church with my dad's coffin.  I asked if she was alright.  She looked at me, tears glistening, and said, "I feel like I am supposed to go too."  

Oh, how that broke my heart.

Fast forward about 23 years and today my aunt celebrated her 89th birthday!!

Sadly, out of the eight children who all shared a childhood, only two remain. But I love, love, love that my Uncle Al was able to join in and be with my aunt as she celebrated her big day.  

A little family back story:

I mentioned my dad came from a family of 8 children.  What I did not mention was how my grandmother, for the most part, raised those children on her own.  

For a few years with the older boys, she did have the help of my grandfather.  My grandfather's life, however, was cut short, and my grandmother was left with seven children... and a baby on the way.  (That baby is seen in the above photo with my aunt.)

Thankfully, she had the help of her family and, most importantly, the help of her God.  

My grandmother had an unshakable belief in and reliance on her Heavenly Father, and she passed that on to her children and her grandchildren.  

When you see old childhood photos of the family, you either get the photo with Grandma and Grandpa and seven of their children ... or... you get Grandma with all eight of their children. 

This is the one I have:

Oftentimes as adults it was hard to get all eight back together, but here they all are at a family reunion a few years back.

I always loved coming from such a warm and loving family.  And while my immediate family was small, I found comfort in coming from such a big extended family.

Again, of the eight, only two remain on this side of heaven, but, my heart is so happy that those two were together today.

I know it was a good day.

I Got The Morbs

 I came across a new phrase:

I saw that and a light bulb went off.  That's me.  I have the morbs. 

I know I will be OK.  I know I will be happy again.  I know I will one day tell fun stories about our silly dog, and I won't cry.  I know.

But for now, I have the morbs.

I'm just sad.

Life is going on as usual, and that just feels wrong.  She shouldn't die, and our lives just go on as usual.  

But it does.

And even that makes me sad.

Watching two dogs go out and two dogs come in makes me sad.  It's supposed to be three.  

Eventually two will be normal.  And that makes me sad.

Everyone has been so wonderful.  Everyone.  And I thank you all for that.

I know the reason y'all are so wonderful:  because you are ALL animal lovers, and you have all been here.  You know my pain, because at some time, it was your pain.  

My neighbor told me Cecelia, which we often shortened to Celia and even "Silly", would often talk and bark through the fence at our neighbor as she would be going to her trash and recycling.  Our neighbor said she would miss that.  And, of course, that made me sad.

Cecelia would also always howl at a siren.  And, because she had dog ears, she would hear the siren first.  We always knew a siren was coming before we ever heard it, because of her howling.

Because the world is made up of cliches, I told my best friend, "It's the price we pay for having them in our lives and loving them so much."

Because she is so wonderful, my best friend replied, "And that price is so worth it. I won't regret the time being sad when I had the time being with them❣️"  

I love that.

And it's true.

Even knowing how sad I would be to lose her, I would still take Cecelia over and over again.  

A friend shared this:

And if that isn't true!!  Oh, she could drive us crazy.  But I would give anything for her to be driving me crazy for a little bit longer.  

But, as we all know, I will be OK.

And life will go on.

Cecelia.... some more

 All of our animals are getting older.  

We know this.

We've discussed it.  

Dolce is our oldest.  Her little muzzle is gray.  She doesn't always come when we call.  Her hearing is not what it used to be.  She has slowed down.  Plays less;  sleeps more.

But, being a small breed, she should have a few years left.

Georgia is the one we tend to worry the most about.  Her muzzle is gray.  She's a lab.  Labs, on average,  don't have long life spans.  She has trouble getting around at times, and we give her medicine for her joints.  We know she is aging.

We have cats that are aging as well.  But cats tend to have long life spans, so again, we don't overly worry about them.

And then there was Cecelia.

We didn't worry about her.  

We joked about her.

Her muzzle wasn't graying.  She wasn't slowing down.  She was as chipper and spry as always.   

Our only worry with her was what would she do when Georgia was gone.

And then yesterday happened.

I still don't know.

At 4:00pm she was herself.  There was no indication that anything was wrong. Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary.  Nothing.

By 5:30pm she was dazed and confused.  Wobbly on her legs.

By 8:30pm she was gone.

As I said,  the vet said maybe a seizure.  But she was supposed to come out of a seizure.  

I was expecting her to wake up, shake her head and look at me like, "what the crap just happened??"

She didn't.

I sat out there petting her and talking to her, and she just didn't wake up.

At least, to our knowledge, she didn't suffer.

We will never know what happened in the hour and a half we were not at home, but even when she was dazed, she didn't appear to be in pain.  As I pet her, she didn't appear to be in pain.  We have that.

So, of course, we are having a storm.  I was awoken by the thunder and lightening, and my first thought was, "You don't have to be scared anymore, little one.  You don't ever have to be scared again."

Georgia woke up.  She went crazy.  She was nervously walking around the bed.  Looking.  Sniffing.  She indicated going outside.  I told her it was raining.  She wanted out. She was frantic.  She ran out into the storm.  Walking around.  Looking.  Sniffing.  

Now I am no dog whisperer, but Mark and I are convinced she was looking for Cecelia.  Cecelia always ran to Georgia for comfort during our storms.  

But not this time.

And Georgia didn't understand.

As I was writing this, the part where I told Georgia it was raining, reminded me of something from the other night.

I heard Mark talking from the other room, but couldn't make out what he was saying.  So I asked.   His reply:  "Oh, nothing.  I was just talking to the dogs!"

You know, you wake up in the morning wondering what the day will bring.... but we just never saw this one coming.

She was gonna drive us crazy and out live us all......

Cecelia Beaux

Georgia needed a friend.  

We had Dolce, but she was so little.  And a bit older.  

Georgia needed a friend closer to her own size.  And her own age.

Mark knew a guy who was fostering a dog.  Did we want to take a look?

Sure.  Ok.

We went and met with the dog.  She was so skittish.  So anxious. 

Mark was sold on her pretty quickly.  He decided this dog was just what Georgia needed.  

I wasn't so sure.  

She was just so .... scared.

But, because she was so scared, and nervous and anxious, and skittish, I also felt we NEEDED to get her.  

If not us, then who? 

I mean I am one of THE BIGGEST animal lovers on the planet.  If I didn't want this dog, who would??

We took her.

I have always felt she must have been abused somewhere before we got her.  Again, she was just SO scared.  And nervous.  

From the time we got her, she was our most difficult animal.

Way back when we were still in Bishop, a few of our chickens were killed.  That crushed me.  I loved our little chickens.  And all the clues pointed to Cecelia.  Now, to be fair, we never saw her kill a chicken, but the clues were there.

So, I did a horrible thing.

I gave her back to the ASPCA.

We couldn't have a dog that killed our chickens.

But then.... if we didn't love her, who would??

And now she would be even harder to adopt.  Now her records showed she was a returned killer!  

No one would want that.

No one would want her.

I went back.

The very next day.

I need my dog back.  Somehow, we'll make this work.  

And y'all, she was Georgia's shadow.

As nervous, and scared and skittish as she was, she absolutely latched on to Georgia.

Oh, Georgia's going to eat?  OK, I can eat.

Oh, Georgia's going to go outside?  OK, I can go out.

Oh, Georgia likes this person?  OK, I can try to like them too.

She would do almost nothing until Georgia did it first.  We often wondered what would ever happen to Cecelia if Georgia went first?  Cecelia needed Georgia.  Georgia was her protector.

Cecelia was just always our hardest.  

She was our digger.  Holes all over the yard. 

Because she was so scared, she's the one who would scratch at the door.

 She was the one we always had to keep an eye on.

She was the one who dug holes under the fence.  Sometimes they would be big enough for her to get out.  But they would always be big enough for Dolce to get out.  

Our dogs were always getting out of our yard because of the holes Cecelia was digging.  Grrrrr.  

This is why all my dogs wear collars with their names, but my phone number.

When we were living in Lumberton, Cecelia escaped - once again.

She was gone for ten days.  And those ten days were storming.  Thunder.  Rain.  Lightening.  More rain.  It was so bad.

I called animal control.  

I called every vet in the area.

I posted in multiple groups on Facebook.

No Cecelia.

Mark and I combed the neighborhood. 

Again.  And again.

No Cecelia.

And then.... one morning around 4am, Dolce and Georgia went crazy.  Woke us up with their craziness.

Mark was all, "What the....??"

And I have no idea how I knew, but I knew.

Cecelia was home.

It was pouring down rain, and she was scratching to get in.

We brought her in and she was wet and cut up and scratched up and thin.  Oh so thin. 

We took her to the vet and had her checked out, ....and she was home!!

After that, any time there was a storm, she was so scared.  And I always tried to make sure she was never left outside in the rain.  And I would hold her and love her and tell her it was OK. 

And Georgia was growing older.  Slowing down.  Getting gray.

And Dolce was growing older.  Slowing down.  Getting gray 

But not Cecelia.  She wasn't gray.  She wasn't slowing down.  She was still healthy, and happy and hyper.

Mark and I often joked that she was our hard one, but she was the one who was going to live forever.  

Only she didn't.

We often worried what would happen to her once Georgia, her protector, was gone?  What would she do?  

We no longer have to worry about that.

She was our hardest.

She was trying.

But we loved her.

We tried and tried and tried to make her feel safe.

...and now she's gone.

And I am so so sad.

I hope she was happy.

Because if we didn't love her, who would??

Mom's Trip to Bountiful ... part 4

 Yeah, I certainly dropped the ball on this one all through the Holidays.  And then some. *eek*

Sunday morning and we were all getting ready to go to church.  This was another significant event on mom's agenda.  The Lutheran Church Missouri Synod in Dayton, Iowa is near and dear to mom's heart.  

*Iowa history: Iowa was included in the Louisiana Purchase of 1803.  At that time, it was primarily inhabited by Native Americans.  Beginning in the 1830's, Euro-American settlements appeared in the Iowa Territory. The "Territory of Iowa" was established in 1838, and Iowa became the 29th state of the Union on December 28, 1846. As the settlers moved in, the Indians ceded their land through treaties and purchase. (The last tribe to do so being the Fox and Sauk who returned in 1857 to buy back a small reservation.  It is the only reservation in the state of Iowa today.) (I'm not quite sure how to pronounce it correctly, but in my head saying "Fox and Sauk" makes me think of Dr. Seuss.) The population more than tripled in the 1850's, and by 1860 there were nearly 675,000 people settled in Iowa. 

And some of those early settlers and pioneers were my family. ❤

**an excerpt from 'A Brief Historical Sketch of Trinity Lutheran Church, Dayton, Iowa': "Among those early settlers were a number of Lutherans, both of German and Swedish extraction.... As early as 1858, Lutheran circuit riding missionaries came to these pioneers to bring them spiritual guidance in the preaching of God's Word, to serve them the Lord's Supper, baptize their babies and instruct the older children for confirmation, usually staying for several days."

"Homes and school houses served as places of worship.  The first Lutheran Missionary pastor of whom there is a record was Pastor Frederick Vickenscher.  Since 1861 he came from Boonsboro, now Boone, but had preached here and served the settlement at Fort Dodge. He came about once a month, usually walking the entire distance from Boone and then on to Fort Dodge, approximately a distance of 100 miles. After four years of shepherding, he found the group receptive to forming a permanent organization.  This important action was taken in 1862...."

Oh. My. Gosh.  

This man traveled on foot 100 miles every month to shepherd these people!? I bet he WAS excited when "he found them receptive to forming a permanent organization"! Matter of fact, he was so excited he served about one more year, then retired and went back to Germany.  Ha!  (OK, I don't know why he returned to his homeland; I'm just teasing, but he did retire and return to Germany.)

Then the BIG debate was where to put the church. Some of the members preferred the country while others preferred the town of Dayton.  The matter was settled when Mr. Charles Schram donated two acres of land for the church.  The location was about six miles northwest of Dayton.  (We're related to the Schrams by marriage; this would be my Great-great Uncle.)

***Another excerpt: "After 66 years in one location at the old country church in Burnside Township and under the guidance of Rev. C. E. Aulick, Trinity relocated to the town of Dayton. The present church building was dedicated on July 23, 1944."

Now... why did I share all of this? For one, because I find history quite interesting and especially the formation of churches.  I mean, again, that poor Pastor walking all those miles to shepherd God's people.  (While today so many act like it is just such an unnecessary inconvenience to get into a vehicle and drive 15 minutes to attend services.  Don't get me started.  Anyway....)  But also because my Great-great grandfather was one of the founding members of this little church; and I LOVE that fact.

This church, when it was in the country, would be where my Grandmother attended services as a young girl.  Where she was baptized and where she was confirmed.  

This church, after it had moved to Dayton, would be where my mom attended services while living with her Aunt Johanna and Uncle Alwin on the family farm.

Sadly, the farm is no longer in the family.  It was sold.  But in God's infinite wisdom and His perfect planning, my grandmother, who could not work, was able to live out her 95 years on this earth with the money from the sale of that farm.  She ran out of money two weeks before her death.  How's that for God's timing!?

I also found this fun and interesting (another excerpt):  "In August 1920 Pastor Richard Krenke came to Trinity.  The word 'German' was dropped from the congregation name, and more English services were conducted. A new Lutheran Hymnal was introduced, and the Constitution was translated into English." 

Which means while my Grandma was growing up, being confirmed and attending this church, it would have all been in German.  I love that.  

I know even as my mom and dad were growing up, German was still often spoken in the homes.  

*Side note* During WWII some of the correspondence between my mom's family and their relatives still in Germany was "gone through" to make sure there was no "funny business" going on.  I get that. It makes perfect sense.  I'm sure it happened often and to most everyone.  But still funny to think of when it's your own family. 

Back to present day:

Eden was up and ready before most.  She could be found listening to Elvis and being enthralled with the record player.  *side note:  she did get a record player for Christmas, and listens to her great Granny's old records;  her favorite being Elvis.*

We made it to church.  Sadly, the old church seems to be on her last legs.  Hopefully not, God willing, but she definitely needs some upkeep and it doesn't appear there are many in her congregation.  Seems as though no new members are being added while the older ones are slowly dying out.  (One more thing to look into when I win the lottery.)

Needless to say with the church's dwindling congregation, our family pretty much took over on this particular Sunday.

Then onto the cemetery where the Kinne family is buried.  

**side note: I was absolutely miserable at the cemetery.  I. Was. Freezing.  My feet were ice, and I was not handling it well.  I either underestimated the cold of Iowa in November or I overestimated my ability to deal with it.  Jenni asked me what was wrong with me and informed me I was being rude.  I promise, if I was rude to you at the cemetery, I apologize.  I was not meaning to be.  I was simply freezing and not handling myself well. I am sorry.**

My extended family....   Henry Kinne was my Grandmother's brother; Lydia being his wife.  Luther is a son of Henry and Lydia.

My lineage: My Great Grandmother Emilie. My Great Grandfather Henry.  My Grandma's sisters,  Johanna and Alma, who never married.  Alma did have a career.  She went to Minnesota where she studied Laboratory Science.  Johanna stayed and helped run the family farm with her brother, Alwin, who also never married.  Alwin always looked out for his baby sister (my grandma) even unto death.  He made sure she had a place for burial and included her on his headstone.

 

 

I love cemeteries and old headstones.  And how much more meaningful they are when they belong to your own family.  Not sure why or exactly when the family name went from "Kunne", with an umlaut, to "Kinne", but I absolutely loved visiting this cemetery and seeing these headstones.  Even if my demeanor said otherwise.  (I suppose the change in spelling was to keep the pronunciation much the same, since we don't use the umlaut over here(?) Hmmmm)

At the cemetery we said goodbye to Jenni and family as they were heading off to enjoy the rest of their vacation.

Our next stop was to get out of the cold (thank you!), get a bite to eat and visit.

It was such fun meeting so many family members whom I never knew before.  My mom, of course!,  knew them and is forever thankful so many made the effort and took the time so we could all have these mini reunions.  It truly was a special weekend to be remembered.

My mom went to this school, although when she attended it was "Burnside Consolidated".  She attended from 1st grade through 7th grade while living on the farm with her Aunt Jo and Uncle Alwin.  Those were some of the best, and most stable, years of her life.

Every so often the family would have to go into town for provisions.  While Aunt Johanna was off doing the shopping, Uncle Alwin would take mom and her sister Karin down to the river.  This always scared Aunt Jo who was fearful the children would fall into the river.  They never did.  Although my mom, who never learned to swim, said perhaps had she fallen in, she might have learned pretty quickly. Ha!

After saying our goodbyes to everyone it was time to chill.  We finished the day at a cute little brewery and a really fun Mexican restaurant.  An authentic Mexican restaurant in Boone, Iowa?  Who knew?? (El Viejo, btw)

Danny made himself quite at home at the brewery.  

And at the restaurant.  We had too much fun.

After a few shots of tequila, it was time to pour ourselves into bed and call it a day.