Saturday, January 22, 2011
siblings and their parts....
A conversation overhead between Kamy and Owen while downstairs playing dress-up -- "get your butt out of my face!" -- prompt reply "get your face out of my butt..." -- made Dad and I laugh (very quietly, so they wouldn't know we thought that was funny!)
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Welcome to Krispy Kream.......
What the Olsens do on lazy Saturday mornings. No pipecleaners or doughnuts were harmed in the making of this video.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Still standing...still loved.
Well, Brannon, Milah, Dessie and Charli Jo all spent the night at "the old house", now their new home, last night - and I lay awake thinking of all the many years we called that place "home".
I still feel a little pull at my heart strings each time I cross that threshhold. All is clean and fresh and new, but it's still the same walls that held us all so safe for so many, many years, the same windows you stood at and watched as snow fell, or black clouds rumbled across the sky, or ice and sleet beat against them. It's the same windows I stood at with the video camera and filmed you kids on the snow sleds (too cold to come out myself!), and watched the sun come up in the morning, and the moon at night - the same windows at least a few of you crawled out at night!
It's the same door I walked through the day we brought Katie home from the hospital - after stepping out of the car onto the newly laid ashpalt! What a surprize! It's the door that Brant carried Owen across when he finally came home from the hospital! It's the door you went off to school from every morning, heading for the school bus. The door that was never locked, because there was just no need. And there's the back door with Trinket's scratches - a reminder of a special dog that brought our family such happiness with her 39 puppies! Those were the stairs you ran up and down, and up and down, and up and down, for 26 years - the stairs we hid under when the storms raged - still standing strong! Those were the floors where Katie took her first steps, and where Dessie, 13 years later, took her first steps. The medicine cabinet from which many a bloodied knee and scraped elbow was bandaged, and the tub where many a little booty was bathed!
Once stripped of the carpet and drywall, the bare floor boards and walls were filled with layers of dust and grime, the kind of stuff that just comes with age, and recent neglect. There was suddently exposed the years and years of dust, and damage, and scars. The outdated light fixtures that never got changed. The crumbling trim that never got replaced. But still it stood. A somewhat perfect analogy of our little (but ever growing) family. Somewhat damaged, slightly aged, a little ragged, and slightly scarred by all these years of dysfunction and addictions. But still standing, still a family, still able to love and be loved.
And, no matter the grime and dust that lay beneath the floors or between the walls, or the layers of paint that cover them - it will always be your childhood home - the home where I wiped away your tears, and read to you, and tucked you in, and planned your graduations and your weddings, and sometimes failed you, but always loved you. The home where we fought hard, and loved hard, and survived ANYTHING that this old world threw at us - because we were a family.
My hope is that Brannon and Milah and Charli and Dessie learn to love it as their home, and that they'll find much happiness there.
I love you all more than I can possibly put in words - Mom.
I still feel a little pull at my heart strings each time I cross that threshhold. All is clean and fresh and new, but it's still the same walls that held us all so safe for so many, many years, the same windows you stood at and watched as snow fell, or black clouds rumbled across the sky, or ice and sleet beat against them. It's the same windows I stood at with the video camera and filmed you kids on the snow sleds (too cold to come out myself!), and watched the sun come up in the morning, and the moon at night - the same windows at least a few of you crawled out at night!
It's the same door I walked through the day we brought Katie home from the hospital - after stepping out of the car onto the newly laid ashpalt! What a surprize! It's the door that Brant carried Owen across when he finally came home from the hospital! It's the door you went off to school from every morning, heading for the school bus. The door that was never locked, because there was just no need. And there's the back door with Trinket's scratches - a reminder of a special dog that brought our family such happiness with her 39 puppies! Those were the stairs you ran up and down, and up and down, and up and down, for 26 years - the stairs we hid under when the storms raged - still standing strong! Those were the floors where Katie took her first steps, and where Dessie, 13 years later, took her first steps. The medicine cabinet from which many a bloodied knee and scraped elbow was bandaged, and the tub where many a little booty was bathed!
Once stripped of the carpet and drywall, the bare floor boards and walls were filled with layers of dust and grime, the kind of stuff that just comes with age, and recent neglect. There was suddently exposed the years and years of dust, and damage, and scars. The outdated light fixtures that never got changed. The crumbling trim that never got replaced. But still it stood. A somewhat perfect analogy of our little (but ever growing) family. Somewhat damaged, slightly aged, a little ragged, and slightly scarred by all these years of dysfunction and addictions. But still standing, still a family, still able to love and be loved.
And, no matter the grime and dust that lay beneath the floors or between the walls, or the layers of paint that cover them - it will always be your childhood home - the home where I wiped away your tears, and read to you, and tucked you in, and planned your graduations and your weddings, and sometimes failed you, but always loved you. The home where we fought hard, and loved hard, and survived ANYTHING that this old world threw at us - because we were a family.
My hope is that Brannon and Milah and Charli and Dessie learn to love it as their home, and that they'll find much happiness there.
I love you all more than I can possibly put in words - Mom.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
family, meet ralph
here he is. the new pup mutt. part schnauzer, part terrior (think oz's toto), part just plain great dog we think. his name is ralph, ralphie for short, ha. aka vomit if you are an olsen. or george as we catch ourselves calling him way too often. force of habit.
as i type he going a bit bizerk because i guess i left a cup of green tea on the floor and he drank it. is tea bad for dogs?
i am sure this will not be the only question of this type we will pose to all you experienced dog owners over the next umpteen years.
love and miss you.
ruff ruff bark meow.
love,
lindsey
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