Friday, November 09, 2007


I have not posted in a while because I had no pictures to post. I have had 4 cameras stolen in two months. Pray that I can catch the culprit and reclaim my cameras and photos. Plus, my internet service is long distance now, so I refrain from long hours on the internet.
Here are a couple of photos of my pygmy goats taken with my old Olympus digital. Muffin didn't cooperate, but Izzy was showing off.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

September Adventures

I know I've been seriously neglecting my blogging duties lately. I was very busy starting up the afterschool program. Also, I was robbed a couple of times (including my cameras). I hope to keep updated from now on. This is a picture of Josiah and his girlfriend in the homecoming parade. Chelsea is the Freshman Princess and Josiah is her escort.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Here's the spinning wheel my cousin Jan brought me from Oklahoma. She also brought me the basket full of wool to spin. I'm so excited to be actually spinning on my own wheel! Guess who decided he just had to try it, too?

Truck Work

Here's a couple of pictures of the state of my truck. I wish I had a picture of how cute it looked before the wreck with it's flat bed and wooden racks. Josiah and his friend just had to take it in the woods for a spin, and it slid into a tree. Here it is after a quick fix. Later pictures will appear after all the new parts and body work are complete.


Sorry I haven't posted in forever. I got kind of busy with the grandkids and Josiah and the post office job. Here's one of the church guys and his nephew putting up hay on my place.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

I've Been Tagged

I've been tagged for a meme (whatever that it is) by Jan at The Work of Her Hands. Here goes:

4 Jobs I have had in my life:

I worked at Public Debt right out of high school. Then I got on at DuPont, but I quit to
stay home with my first child. I volunteered at the Christian School for 15 years for free tuition, with a break when my second child was born. When my husband lost his
job, I went back to work. I now work as a Youth Activities Director and Afterschool
Director at a local church. I just got on at the Post Office a few months ago.

4 Films I can watch again and again:

Anne of Green Gables series
Back to the Future Trilogy
Mary Poppins
Sound of Music

4 Places I have lived:

I was brought home to a little beginner home in Vienna, WV
I spent the rest of my childhood in a home my dad built on a farm in Murraysville, WV
My husband owned a home in Davisville, WV, when I met him.
We moved to a farm in Cutler, OH, to raise our kids in the country.

4 TV Series I watch:

Little People, Big World (I like that show, too, Jan. They do so many interesting things.)
Old Comedy reruns like Andy Griffith, Green Acres, I Love Lucy, Beverly Hillbillies
Monk (He's my favorite detective)
Sherlock Holmes (He's my second favorite detective)

4 places I have been on Holiday:

Niagra Falls (3 times including my honeymoon)
Florida (2 times, once in a moving van, the trip was paid for by the mover)
Texas (again in a moving van, our daughter's furniture)
Libraries and Cemeteries (my favorite off-line places for genealogy research)

4 Things I Do everytime I get on the net:

Check regular email
Check Bloglines
Read the news online, including obituaries
Check my bank balance on weekdays, update websites on weekends

4 things I would not eat for anything in the world

Bugs of any kind
Pets (We went to a friend's house one time and they cooked her pet rabbit for dinner. Waaaah!)
Road Kill (even though some of it looks really fresh)
Leftovers found in my grandson's car seat (He stores food there for convenience later)

4 places I would love to be right now:

Jan said, "Talking and visiting with Grandma." (Did that Thursday)
Jan said, "Sitting on my mom’s porch in the early morning, chatting and drinking
coffee, enjoying the peace that I feel when I’m there." ( Me too, except I would be
eating watermelon. )
Jan said, "Sitting beside Jody and comparing the verses Grandma had underlined in
my Bible with the verses she had underlined in Jody’s Bible." (I love to spend time
with my brother, Eric, working on computers or playing music. )
Jan said, "Singing with Steven, amazed at how beautiful his voice is." (I love to sing
and play music with my kids and grandkids.)

4 people to tag
Eva at
No Name Creek
Josiah at Josiah's Loud Life
(The only two other people I know who blog)

If you've been tagged, answer the questions on your blog and tag four more people.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Mommo and the Girls

Luke wouldn't pose for the picture, so we just took one of the girls with Mommo.
Posted by Picasa

Granny with grandchildren

Granny Jill with grandchildren on a visit to Mommo.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

A Day at the Park

I took the youth group to the park, and guess who showed up! My long lost son whom I hadn't seen for four months! It was so good to see him again. We had lots of catching up to do. He sure is getting tall, isn't he?

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Natalie Faith

I was presented with the best gift a mother can receive on Mother's Day--a new grandbaby!
Natalie Faith was born on Friday, May 11, weighed 7 lbs., 14 oz., and was welcomed home by her little brother and sister, Luke and Kylie. Mom and Dad are doing fine, too.

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Luke Visits Mommo

We took Luke to visit Mommo this week. He was a real hit at the "nursery" home, as Kylie calls it.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007


Kylie wrote a book about her baby Easter bunny, Snuffy. Maybe she will be a famous author someday.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Pink, fluffy, ruffly things

Here's the pickings of our recent baby-goods shopping trip.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Ashley on Ice

I thought you might like to see this picture of Ashley after she got brave on the ice.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Jill on Ice

Here I am trying to coax Ashley from her safe chair onto the ice. The youth group had lots of fun, and I actually learned how to ice skate without falling once!

Package Tracking

This is to inform you that the little package Amber has been carrying every day on her postal route is discovered to be---a girl! There will be much shopping for all pink, ruffly, lacey, and fluffy things. And maybe more packages containing those items will have to be carried.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Luke shows off in his new cowboy hat.

Mystery Object

If you can guess what this is, you have won the grand prize!

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Before and After


Here's my two painters at work.


I have two helpers this week. Here they are all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007


I took the youth group rollerskating. Kylie was with me, and Josi showed up. It was lots of fun, and I didn't even fall down once! Here we are eating pizza.


Here's a really neat illusion to try. The faces switch places when you step back from the screen 12 feet. How do they do that? It even works when you print it out on paper. Amazing!

Friday, February 02, 2007


Kylie visited with me this week. We went to visit Mommo at the "nursery" home, as Kylie calls it. She always has such an interesting twist to her words: "cauliflower" for flour, "presidents" for presents.

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Here's the two favorite men in my life right now. Josi, celebrating his 14th birthday, and my brother Eric, who also just had a birthday.

Fairplain Garage

Here's the newly refurbished Fairplain Garage, built by my Grandad Anderson in order to support his large family.

Monday, January 29, 2007

Not to Forget

Not just another Holocaust story, from

Leah Kaufman's story of unfathomable horror and courage remained locked in memory's vault for half a century, until her granddaughter started asking her questions.

Tisha b'Av, 1492, was the final day for compliance with the edict of the Spanish expulsion. Although it was a day of national mourning, the rabbis of that generation declared, "Take up your instruments." Thus the Jewish community marched out of their host country with the musicians at the lead. Not only did the Rabbis want to infuse the refugees with hope, they also wanted to remind them that there is only one place in the world worthy of tears being shed when we must leave there. That place is Jerusalem.
The inner command to "take up our instruments"-- to begin again with renewed hope -- has been the mandate of the Jew throughout exile. In recent history the most moving and remarkable examples of this have been the survivors of the Holocaust. Having faced death so many times, having endured unspeakable physical tortures and difficulties, the liberated survivor needed a different kind of courage: the courage to face his tragic experiences and move on to rebuild his life.
Mrs. Leah Kaufman epitomizes such bravery on all fronts. Laden with nightmares of unimaginable personal horrors and losses, Mrs. Kaufman arrived in Canada, orphaned and penniless. She succeeded in rebuilding her life, becoming the proud mother of three sons, an outstanding educator, and an active member of the Jewish community. As for the past, it was locked in memory's vault, for half a century unseen and unmentioned.
There it would have remained perhaps forever had not the urgent need to speak out arisen. Lest the world forget and be bereft of its memories, Mrs. Kaufman bravely unlocked hers. Speaking not just for herself but for the hundreds of thousands whose voices were silenced, she relived the pain of Transnistria, a place whose horrors have long since gone untold because it left its survivors mute.
Although Mrs. Kaufman speaks to us all, it was as a mother and grandmother that she first began telling future generations about a past that must never be forgotten.
* * *
One afternoon in Montreal, as Mrs. Leah Kaufman stood at her kitchen sink preparing supper, her four-year-old son ran into the house, sobbing. "Mommy, Mommy," he cried, "do you know what happened to children in the Holocaust?" He put his arms around his mother and buried his face in her apron. Suddenly, his older brother, Seth, who had been in another room doing homework, ran out, grabbed him by the shoulders, and dragged him into their bedroom.
"David," he shouted, in a voice far more adult than his six years, "never, ever talk to Mommy about the war or about Nazis!"
Their mother held onto the kitchen counter unable to move. A memory flashed through her mind. It had happened a year ago, when she was in a local bookstore with Seth. There on a display counter they had encountered an oversized book with a big bold title: Transnistria. Seth had tugged at her hand, saying, "Mommy, isn't that where you were? Don't you want to buy the book?" She had hastily pulled him out of the store. Once outside, she bent down and looked deep into his eyes, which reflected confusion, and said, "I don't want to know. I just don't want to know."
She would speak only one language when it came to the Holocaust: the language of silence.
Now, as she stood at the sink with the midafternoon sunlight slanting through the kitchen windows and the red geraniums blossoming in their white flower boxes, Mrs. Kaufman forced herself to pick up the vegetable peeler and continue her preparations for supper. Before her marriage, she had made the decision not to burden her children with her suffering. She wanted to raise them as normal, Canadian children. She would speak only one language when it came to the Holocaust: the language of silence.
* * *
Years passed since the scene in the kitchen. The boys grew, married, and raised families of their own. Pesach, 1991, found the Kaufmans at the home of Seth, now a doctor and leader in a Jewish community. A new generation of Jews was being raised, a delight to both parents and grandparents.
In the midst of the family gathering, Talia, then only eight, suddenly went over to her grandmother and said, "Bubbie, please come sit with me." Mrs. Kaufman willingly sat down on the couch next to the little granddaughter she loved so much. She was completely unprepared, though, for Talia's next words.
"Bubbie, please tell me what happened to you when you were a child."
"Just a minute, Talia," came the somewhat nervous reply, "and I'll come right back to sit with you." Mrs. Kaufman went over to her son and asked in hushed tones, "What should I do? Talia wants to know."
"Mommy," said her son, his expression suddenly serious, "please don't repeat the mistake you made with me. Tell her. Use your own judgement. I trust you."
Mrs. Kaufman went to sit on the couch, took her granddaughter's hand, and began her story.
"You know, Talia, we can't always understand how God runs His world. There are many things that happened to me that are very sad. But look -- here we are sitting together and I want you to know that for whatever His reasons, God was always making incredible miracles for me and for many other people. He became our partner to help us in every way.
"My mother, your great-grandmother, was a midwife and healer. She helped anyone who came to her, Jew and non-Jew alike. When I was little, I would often be awakened by a loud banging on the window -- Boom! Boom! -- and shouts of, 'Domna Bracha, come quickly! We need you to deliver a baby!' My mother also knew what to do if someone was sick. She knew about herbs and special little cups to put on the skin and leeches to pull out the diseased blood from the body. She learned from her mother, my grandmother, who was also a healer.
"Anyway, I remember that one night when I was just about your age there was a banging on the window. This time, though, it wasn't an urgent call for my mother to help. No, it was to warn us to flee because the next day soldiers would be arriving. My mother woke me and my brothers and sisters and dressed us in layer after layer of clothing. When we left the house and made our way to the road, we saw many other families. They were all running away.
"We went to another city and took shelter in an empty house. We stayed there for a few days and prepared for Shabbos. On Shabbos, as we were sitting around the table with the wooden shutters closed, we suddenly heard a loud pounding on the shutters and the door. My mother and father told us to run and hide. My brothers and sisters and I obeyed.
"Soldiers burst in through the front door. They saw all the plates at the table and the leader shouted, 'Where is everybody!'
"My parents said nothing.
"Then he threatened, 'If they don't come out, we will shoot you.'
"My parents called us back into the room. The soldiers lined up all seven children one by one behind each other, with the tallest standing in the back and the smallest in the front. This was so that they could shoot all of us at once using only one bullet. We said good-bye to each other. They picked up their rifles and were about to pull the trigger when suddenly their leader shouted, 'Put down your guns!'
"This woman brought me into the world and saved my life many times. I can't kill her. Let's go."
"'Put down your guns!' he repeated in a booming voice. To this day, I can hear the boom of his voice inside my head. Then, in a much softer tone, the leader said, 'I can't kill her. This woman brought me into the world and saved my life many times. I can't kill her. Let's go.'
"That's the first time I was saved. But that was only the beginning of many difficult and terrible times. The Rumanian soldiers were brutal to the Jews and they forced us to walk in the freezing winter from place to place. We had to sleep in haystacks and on the frozen ground. Many people became sick and died just from the cold.
"One of the next places we stopped was right near a bakery. The delicious smell of the freshly baked bread made our hunger pains even worse. Small as I was, I was always a fighter. I said to myself, 'There must be some way we can help ourselves.' Everyone else was lying down but I was sitting up watching the door of the bakery. I saw a little girl go out of the bakery and I called to her in Rumanian. She was shocked. She had probably never talked to a Jewish child before. But she was curious, like most children, so she came over to me and said, 'What do you want?'
"I said, 'How old are you?' It turned out she was my age. 'Where are you going?' I asked her.
"'To school,' she replied.
"'Do you like school?'
"'I hate it -- because I'm not smart.'
"'What grade are you in?' I asked.
"She told me and I told her to bring me her books. She did. I took one look at what she was learning and said to myself, I'm going to be her tutor! I said to her, 'Don't go to school today. Sit with me and I'll help you. Tomorrow you'll know everything.'
"She sat with me and I helped her. Then she went into her house and told her mother. Her mother was so pleased that she sent out a loaf of bread. As long as we stayed there, we had bread everyday.
"My mother very much wanted us to have a chicken for Shabbos and she had an idea of how we could get one. We had all had pierced ears from the time we were young. We were four sisters and my mother so there were five pairs of gold earrings. As we were marching, the Rumanians stood on the sidelines trading things. My mother traded all our earrings for a chicken. She sent me with it to the shochet. When I brought it home, she plucked the feathers and opened it. The liver didn't look quiet right to her, so she sent me back to the shochet who looked at the liver and told me it wasn't kosher.
"By this time we were very hungry, but my mother said, 'Kinderlach, mir turren dos nisht essen -- My children, we are forbidden to eat this.'
"My mother and my brothers and sisters never lived to eat chicken again.
"The weather was getting colder and colder and we were being forced to march again. I was always on the lookout for ways to survive. As we walked, I watched the faces of the Rumanian soldiers. I saw that the one who was holding onto the horse leading the wagon didn't have such a cruel face. I went up to him and said, 'What is it to you if I die?'
"He looked at me and said, 'What do you want little girl?'
"I said, 'I want to live. Let me sit in your wagon.'
"He bent down, picked me up, wrapped me in blankets, and lifted me up onto the wagon. And that is how I survived the march. From time to time my older brother would come to check up on me and bring me news from the family and little things to eat.
"Depending on where we stopped, I sometimes slept in haystacks, hidden deep under the hay. Because of my fair skin and blonde hair, and also because I spoke Russian, I would often run away and find a Russian family in the woods. I would tell them, 'I'm a Russian child who lost her family and I'm very hungry,' and they would give me crusts of bread. Sometimes they would take me into their fields to let me dig up a few potatoes. Whatever it was, though, was never enough to quiet the hunger pains.
"The Ukrainian children were very, very cruel. They had a game when they caught a Jewish child. They would say, 'Jew, say kookooroisa.' In their language that means corn. To say it, you have to know how to roll the 'r' properly. Baruch Hashem I passed that test many times.
"One by one my brothers and sisters died. Finally, one cold and bitter day, my mother also died, and I was left on my own."
"One by one my brothers and sisters died. My mother and I were left alone, until finally, one cold and bitter day, she too, died, and I was left on my own.
"I decided to try to make my way to Mogilav where I hoped to find relatives. I walked for months, all alone, fending for myself. One day I came upon a little cafe owned by a woman. I asked her for some food, which she promised to give me if I would be willing to wash dishes in return. I agreed, and she sent me to the pump in the yard with the dirty dishes. I did the best I could, and brought the dishes inside. She said, 'Do the other side.' And she sent me back. That's how I got my lesson in how to wash dishes! Once she realized that I could be trusted she let me help her every day.
"One day, she came to me and said, 'How would you like to come home and sleep in my house?' That was an unbelievable offer! I replied without hesitation, 'I would like that very much!'
"The first night I was there I had a very frightening dream and I screamed in my sleep in Yiddish. The woman woke me up and said, 'Lydia' -- that's what I called myself because Lydia was close to Leah -- 'why did you scream that way in a language I couldn't understand?'
"I told her the truth, that I was Jewish, and she said, 'Your secret is safe with me. Just don't tell another soul.' From that day on, I was always with her.
"One day, a group of German soldiers came into the restaurant and after they ate, ransacked the place, breaking dishes and smashing furniture. The owner was hysterical and I was terrified. When we had calmed down, I said to her, 'Madame Bakouska, they were planning it!'
"She asked me, 'How do you know?'
"I told her, 'I understood what they said to each other. They didn't want to pay, so they planned the whole thing.'
"She started laughing so hard I thought she had lost her mind. I asked her, 'What's wrong?'
"She hugged and kissed me and said, 'Lydia, you will never have to worry again. You will be my child.' We made a secret signal between us so that I could tell her whenever I overheard the Germans planning to do damage. She would then cross the street and bring back an equal number of Ukrainian soldiers. When the Germans saw the soldiers, they would pay their bill and leave. Her business prospered and my situation was a good one.
"Suddenly, things changed. On the corner, next to the cafe, was a drug store. One day the druggist stumbled into the cafe drunk and said, 'You're doing well because she's a Jew' -- he pointed to me -- 'and she understands what they're saying.' From that day on we were on the alert. But what happened next was much worse than I ever expected.
When the Jewish kapos found out I was a Jewish child, they kidnapped me and put me on a train bound for the Piciora concentration camp.
"One day two Jewish Kapos came into the restaurant. They were working for the enemy. When they found out I was a Jewish child, they kidnapped me and put me on a train bound for the Piciora concentration camp. I was in shock! How could fellow Jews do that to me?
"When I arrived at the camp I went into the barracks and took stock of the situation. I decided then and there that I had to escape. Everyone there looked near death. It was no place for me. I walked outside and looked around. Near the main gate was a little bush. I lay down near the bush. I was watching the guard and the guard was watching me. After a few days under the bush, a moment came when the gates were open and the eyes of the guard were on other things. I picked myself up and walked straight out. I said to myself, 'If you survive, you must remember this day.'
"Then I started my journey all over again, back to the town of the cafe and eventually, after the war, to Canada."
* * *
Mrs. Kaufman had been holding Talia's hand with both of her own. She looked at her granddaughter's face and could see the questions and the sadness in her eyes.
"Talia, I'm going to tell you one more thing, and then it's enough for this visit, okay?" Tali nodded her head as her grandmother continued.
"After the war, when I was liberated, I became an apprentice to a dressmaker. But it turned out she wasn't interested in teaching me anything about a needle and thread. What she really needed was someone to stand in line for food and provisions because we were under the Russian occupation.
"One day, when I was in the backyard beating the dust out of a carpet, a man came up to me and said, 'Are you Leah?' "'Yes,' I answered.
"'I'm your brother!'
"He took me away from that house and helped me get into an orphanage that was in the brand-new wing of a hospital complex. It was a special place for children who were staying in Bucharest, waiting to go by boat to Eretz Yisrael. We waited there a few months. The very night before I was scheduled to leave for Israel, I had severe stomach pains. The doctors discovered that my appendix had burst. I was taken to the hospital in a coma. It was one of the miracles God did for me that the orphanage was located in a wing of the hospital so they were able to get me there so quickly. The chief surgeon, though, said I was beyond surgery. But an orthopedic surgeon who was present said, 'You have given up on her. I would like a try,' and he operated on me. Remember, this was in the days before they had penicillin. Even today, God forbid, a burst appendix is very dangerous.
"Well, this doctor put tubes inside to drain out the infection, and although I was in a coma for a whole month, I recovered. But Talia, I want you to know that the ship that left for Eretz Yisrael never made it there. It was struck by a torpedo. To this day, no one knows who did it, whether the Russians, the Germans or the British. But because I was very, very sick, I wasn't on that ship. My burst appendix saved my life!
"So you see, Talia," Mrs. Kaufman concluded, "everything I was given, was given to me for a purpose. My gift of speaking many languages, my ability to quickly read people's faces and understand them, even my illness -- all were part of the miracles that God did to save me."
Mrs. Kaufman rose from the couch and Talia ran off to play. For the rest of the day, Mrs. Kaufman kept asking herself, "Did I do the right thing? Did I tell her too much?" She kept a close watch on her granddaughter and the next day, had her answer when Talia came over to her and said, "Bubbie, I have to talk to you."
"Okay, honey. Here I am. What do you want to say?"
"Bubbie," Talia began, "the day you die, it's gonna rain very hard." She spoke emphatically, her face serious.
"Talia, why is it going to rain so hard?"
"Because all the angels God had sent to be your partners till now are going to cry so hard because they won't be able to watch over you anymore."
This story appears in "A Mother's Favorite Stories," by Sheina Medwed, Artscroll Publishers

Tuesday, January 23, 2007


So sorry I haven't posted for awhile.
I need to share with you the fact that my husband and son never came back from their stay with his sister. The "working out of town" became the "husband left and took son with him."
I'm torn between wanting to preserve my marriage and feeling the need to protect myself from further assaults of being abandoned (this is the third time he's left me).
You're prayers are much desired.