How I met your father, part 4

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

My darling children,

As we continue the story of how your father and I met, let me introduce you to Frost.

Frost and I had worked together for several years and had become friends. Frost was also friends with your father. They went to the same church and -- here's fun part -- Frost's brother (Uncle Troy) is married to your dad's sister (Aunt Ruth). Did you catch that? Read it again, if you need to.

Frost's husband Roger and your dad were good friends. They went camping and mountain biking together, worked on vehicles together, and just hung out.

So Frost knew both your dad and me fairly well. And she had decided that we would be a good match. When the meeting at the hayride didn't go as planned, she decided to try again a few months later. Somehow, she came up with the idea to host a Rook tournament (Rook is a card game) at her house and invited me, your dad, and a few other people from her church.

In the days leading up to the February 8, 2002, event, I was a bit apprehensive and nervous. And, in an effort to find out as much as possible about the guy I was supposed to meet (you know my motto -- always be prepared! (or something like that)), I sent this email another coworker, Eric:

There’s a guy that goes to your ‘new’ church… his name is Seth, but I don’t know his last name! So, what I’m wondering is:  have you met him?  And if so, what do you think about him?

Eric replied:

He seems pretty nice. He's kind of quiet, but I think he's somewhat theological, I always have to wait behind him to ask Pastor questions or whatever. You should come and see for yourself, though...

I'm sure I also asked Frost some questions about Seth and, from what your father has told me when I asked him recently, he also asked her a bit about me. He also said that he was not in any way shape or form apprehensive or nervous about meeting me. No surprise there, I suppose.

So, the day finally came. The day I was to finally meet your father. And we all -- including another coworker and her husband (Lorena and Jason) assembled at the Rook party at Frost's house. I believe the plan was for Seth and me to partner for the tournament; however, somehow he ended up partnering with Jason and I was Lorena's partner. (Which was probably a good thing since your father is very competitive and I knew nothing about how to play Rook. My lack of skills -- and lack of interest in competing-- probably wouldn't have won his heart in that moment.)

And somehow we were never actually introduced to each other.

Lorena and I played through the rounds, moving to different tables and changing the teams we were playing. At one point, Seth was sitting at another table that was in my line of sight. His back was toward me, and I remember thinking, "He has nice shoulders." They were broad and strong. That thought has stayed with me to this day and his broad shoulders remain one of my favorite features of your father's.

Finally, the time came for Lorena and I to play Jason and Seth. We all sat down and started playing -- with no introductions. Lorena and Jason were good conversationalists and she was able to encourage Seth to talk. One of her questions was about his house.

"It's a crack house," he said.

"What?!" we both asked. I was thinking, A crack house? What is it--some kind of meth lab? Is Frost trying to set me up with a drug dealer?!? FROST!!!!

"A crap house," he repeated. "It's just one of those modular homes that needs a lot of work. It's a crap house."

Oh. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Our round soon ended and both teams moved on. I kept my eyes on him, though, and -- I'm not shy to admit -- eavesdropped on the conversations he was having with others during the game. For some reason, the thing that sticks out the most is that I learned we both, at one point, attended a church in the same denomination.

Soon enough, the tournament ended (I don't remember who won) and, somehow, I left without actually "meeting" your father yet again.

To be continued . . . . 

How I met your father, part 3

Part 1
Part 2

My dearest sons,

We are in the middle of sharing with you how your dad and I met each other. So let us continue with our tale . . . .

As I was doing a little email search to see what I may have said to various friends about your dad around the time of the hayride, I came across this incriminating email that I sent to my friend a few months later on February 4, 2002 . . .

I forgot to tell you that at Karen's hay-ride, she came up to me and said 'I want to introduce you to Seth', and I said, 'I have to go to the bathroom' and went inside... And she said, "Stacia, he was waiting to meet you and you ran away.'....And I said, "I had to go to the bathroom.'....So.... 

After we didn't really meet at the harvest party in the fall of 2001, I couldn't quite stop thinking about your dad. Not in an obsessive "I'm stalking him day and night on Facebook and Twitter and YouTube" way (mainly because Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube didn't really exist at that point in the way they do now, or at least the way they do in 2015, and also because, if they had existed in that way, your dad still would not have been able to be stalked on them because he doesn't have a presence on them, except for a Facebook account which he never, ever uses, although I can't say I wouldn't have tried).

My interest was more of a "Hmm, I wonder if I really messed up that meeting with that whole 'I have to go to the bathroom' thing." But, underlying the "I may have missed The One For Me with a stupid trip to the bathroom," was a belief that, if Seth truly were someone whom the Lord had ordained to play some significance in my life, then I certainly couldn't thwart the plans of the Creator of the Universe by a silly trip to the bathroom. And I somehow rested in the fact that God was sovereign and that He would work things out if that was His plan.

On another front, I had recently read a book called, I Kissed Dating Good-Bye. And although I had never been a serial dater (not to be confused with a serial killer), I appreciated the idea in the book of intentional dating and getting to know someone in a group setting, at least at first. And, while I could turn this post into treatise on my thoughts about courtship vs. dating, I won't. Because that would be silly and semantic and legalistic, and I'm thankful that Jesus offers so much more freedom to His children than just one way of finding a mate (did you see what I just did there?).

At any rate, at that time, I liked the idea of getting to know someone in a group setting. The only problem was, there were no "groups" that both your father and I traveled in together. We didn't go to the same church, we didn't hang out with the same group of friends (although we had mutual friends), we didn't work at the same place, we didn't live in the same city or even the same state, and we didn't go to the same roller rink (mainly because neither of us roller-skate).

So, it would seem, from all human appearances, that that hayride meeting in Autumn 2001 was it.

Enter Frost . . . .

To be continued . . . . 

How I met your father, part 2

Dear Kieran and Cael,

When last we spoke -- or wrote -- I was telling you about how your father and I met and fell in love. Since I gave you my version of the events surrounding our first meeting last time, I thought I would provide your dad's version with this post. And, since you know how much he enjoys talking and writing, I thought I'd interview him rather than ask him to write it all down himself.

By 2001, Seth had done a stint in the Navy as a nuclear reactor operator on a large, famous ship that has since been decommissioned. He spent most of his tours of duty in the Mediterranean and was able to see a lot of that part of the world. He learned to SCUBA dive in the Virgin islands, became proficient at playing cribbage on the ship, bought nice jewelry and other gifts from exotic Italian locations for his family members, and toured the Middle East and parts of Europe. He got out of the Navy in 1999 and moved to our current area for a civilian job that was near his sister and brother, who also lived in this area. He eventually bought a house -- the one we live in in the Holler -- and had settled in living there with his younger (bigger) brother.

And so we begin the interview with your dad . . . .

What were some of your favorite places that you saw while you were in the Navy?

The museums and cathedrals of Florence and Rome. 

Thinking back to the first time we met--do you remember it?

It's become a blur.

Ok, unblur it for a few minutes. Do you remember that time?

I remember you just ran away.

Ok, before that. We'll get to that in a minute. Did Karen tell you that she wanted you to meet someone when she invited you to the hayride?

No. . . . I don't remember. I don't remember if Roger said something or not. 

Do you remember meeting me that night?

Just briefly. You were there with what's-her-name [a friend of mine at the time].

Did you want to meet her instead of me?

No. I don't think I really wanted to meet anybody. 

What did you think?

[minor discussion about where we each remember that we were standing when we met]

Was I the most gorgeous girl you've ever seen? Wait, don't answer that. Ok, so we meet. And then I run away. Not really run. More, excuse myself and go away. What did you think after I ran away?

I don't remember. I think I left shortly thereafter. I was never one for big crowds or parties. 

So, why did you go in the first place?

Well, it was a church event. And I went the day before with Roger and mowed the whole area because Rick's tractor was broken.

Anything else that you can recall?

No. It was just a brief encounter. 

So, I made no impression on you at all?

No, you made an impression. But it was brief. And I had to inquire of Frost about you later.

And so that was it.

To be continued . . . .

How I met your father, part 1

Dear Kieran and Cael,

I realize that you're both boys and that perhaps the romantic side of your parents' story isn't of interest to you, but on the off-chance that someday you ask the question, "So, how did you and Dad meet?" I thought I'd share a little of how I met your father so that you can refer back to this post.

In 2001, I had a job editing and producing content for the website of my place of employment. I'd been there since 1997, right after I had graduated from college. Over those four years, I had moved away from home, became involved in a church, taken trips to Europe, the Grand Canyon, and Australia, bought a condo, and written a kids section in a magazine, among other things.

 My mom and me on our Australia tour in 2001

Sampling some Australian tea

Until that point, I hadn't really met anyone (read: a guy) that I completely connected with, but I was having a good time, enjoying my work and enjoying my life. There had been a few possibilities over the years, but none that I really felt at peace about. And so, in 2001, I was happily single. 

During the fall of 2001, a friend from church was having a hayride and fall party, and since I love that type of thing, a few friends and I decided to go. Karen, the friend hosting the party, mentioned that maybe she could introduce me to a few guys she knew who would be there. I really wasn't interested in meeting them, though. I've never really done well in that type of "oh, here, say hi and then start chatting" environment. In fact, I usually found some excuse to run far away from set-ups like that. 

But, my friends and I went, and we enjoyed the hay ride and the food and the fellowship. As I was standing in line for the food, I saw a guy wearing a green plaid jacket. He had dark hair, a dark goatee, and glasses. I thought maybe he was one of the guys that I was supposed to meet but I didn't say anything to him at that time. 

The place we first met, as photographed in 2015. 

Photo courtesy of Karen Palasek. 

Later, after I'd avoided the meeting as much as was possible, Karen called me over and introduced me to the guy in plaid, "Hey Stacia, this is Seth. Seth, this is Stacia." I said hi and then quickly excused myself on the pretext of going to the bathroom. Where I went and stayed as long as possible until it got to the point of being embarrassing. And by the time I rejoined the festivities, he was gone. 

And that was it. 

To be continued . . . . 

A new mop

In addition to socks, my mom got me a steam mop for Christmas. You may remember that at one time I purchased a steam mop several years ago. I'd like to say that it was a favorite friend and I used it so much that I wore it out and needed a new one. But, that wouldn't be true. I just don't like mopping. Especially during winter and spring . . . and summer and fall. But mainly winter and spring. Or whenever it's really muddy outside. Because that mud gets tracked in, and mopping after every entry seems like an exercise in futility because more mud is just another entry away. And so I don't. I mainly just use a towel to wipe up mud. Or else I don't. 

At any rate, as fun as UltraMop was, I didn't use it very often. Kieran was also slightly scared of it and it was a big deal when I got it out. So I tried to use it whenever he wasn't around. And, whenever he wasn't around, somehow I always came up with an excuse for not using it even then. 

So, all that to say, my mom got me a new, lighter, easier-to-handle steam mop for Christmas. And, for some reason, Kieran has been asking to use it ever since. 

"Uh-oh, Mom, it looks like there's some mud on the floor. I guess you'll need to mop it." 

"Hey, Mom, can you get out the mop and mop the floor?"

"Mom. You need to mop the floor."

Finally, today, I could think of no other excuse and we got out the mop. 

He quickly pushed me aside and took over the use of the mop. And I wondered to myself, Why haven't I let him mop before?

Much like he enjoyed the Bissel, he loved using the steam mop. And he mopped the entire kitchen and was so disappointed that it was clean and the mop would need to go away, that I let him mop the bathroom, too. (Elizabeth is also in the picture above -- she's a homeschooled young lady who stays with us a few days a week while her parents work. She also enjoyed the mop and has been great fun for the boys to have around.)

Since Kieran was mopping, I decided to take the opportunity to clean out the rest of my mopping items that have been taking up space -- and not being used. So, I got rid of two regular mops.

And I put UltraMop into the giveaway pile.

And I was also able to add this little electric-broom-thing to the giveaway pile. The closet is much emptier now.

This little guy did a great job mopping today -- and he loved it! And I love that he loved it and that I have clean floors.

Tonight, as the boys were getting ready for bed, I asked them what they were thankful for. Kieran said, "I'm thankful that I got to use that mop today." 

Winsome Arrows Blog Posts

If you have the time and inclination, head over to the Winsome Arrows Educational Services blog (Joan is a friend I met on Facebook and who serves as a consultant to those who are homeschooling children with special needs) to check out a few posts I wrote for it.

Part 1: Our decision to homeschool

Part 2: Curriculum we've chosen

Part 3: Accommodations and modifications we've made in our school

Sorting Coins

Today, Seth checked the cistern and found that it was low on water, which meant he needed to take the truck to get a load of water (which, in this case, is about 550 gallons). The last time he went, he had to go to the more expensive dispenser (because the cheaper one wasn't working) and the cost was $16 instead of the usual $2.75. The water dispenser only takes quarters and, with that fill-up, he'd used all the quarters he had in the truck. 

So, today, when it was determined he would need to get water, we raided several of our coin stashes for quarters. 

Cael helped me sort them all and in the process thought he might like having a nickel for an eye. 

When we finished, we'd found several $10 rolls of quarters and lots of pennies, nickels, and dimes.

While Kieran went with Seth, Cael and I talked about how, instead of collecting quarters, we could use two dimes and a nickel to make $.25 and save those for our Vacation Bible School mission project in June. Every $.25 we collect purchases a meal for a hungry child that is distributed in a Food Pak by Children's Hunger Fund. Each Food Pak is delivered by a local pastor and comes with one of four gospel tracts (that I happened to have written and that have been translated into Spanish, French, Russian, and Thai). If you're looking for a way to share your hard-earned money with those who are less fortunate (and much more hungry), may I recommend you check out CHF?

Silent Saturday

Do you like how I invented a new blog post meme? I was thinking today, What should I blog about? And then I thought, Too bad it isn't Wednesday because then I could call it a Wordless Wednesday post and just post pictures without writing anything. And then I thought, Hey, I'll call it Silent Saturday and it will be the Saturday version of Wordless Wednesday so I can just post pictures without writing anything. I'm brilliant! And a picture is worth a thousand words anyway, right? 

Except I just wrote things. 

So, without writing anything further, here are today's Silent Saturday photos. 

The Nesting Boxes

Our chicken coop has evol--been intelligently designed over the past five years that we've had chickens. The most recent change happened over Thanksgiving, when BIL Nate was visiting with us. In one of the back rooms, that we don't allow our chickens in (because it isn't secure), was a set of nesting boxes from when the previous owner kept chickens. Nate has wanted for quite some time to move that set of boxes into the area where our chickens currently reside so that they have more space to nest in. And so this past November, he did just that. 

And then we waited to see if the chickens would enjoy the new nesting arrangement as much as Nate hoped they would. 

Within a few days, they had bravely ventured into the area and now are almost exclusively laying their eggs in there. Interestingly enough, the six chickens seem to be enjoying the variety of spaces offered in which to lay their eggs, resulting in different egg configurations and boxes being used each day. 

 Monday's arrangement

I don't know if one chicken decides which box it will be that day and then the rest fall in line . . .

Or not . . . .

Tuesday

Or if they all decide together which box it will be and then take turns when it's their time to lay . . . .


Wednesday

Or if one chicken is the outcast and, once she's laid her egg, all the rest run to another spot . . . .

Thursday

Or if they send out daily Egg Memos . . . .

 that some miss . . .

or forget about . . . .

Friday

Or if they occasionally have chicken spats that result in various chickens taking sides . . . .

and nesting boxes . . . .

At any rate, they continue to be good layers for us and we have plenty of eggs for ourselves and to give away/sell. Although you might have noticed that we have six chickens and the maximum number of eggs on any given day this week was five. Which means, we have a slacker chicken in our midst. I'm inclined to believe it's one of the Easter Eggers, which are the brownish chickens. Seth disagrees with me and believes that each is doing her fair part in providing us with fresh Holler eggs (see, I told you he has a soft spot in his heart for the chickens). He's probably right. He usually is.

Thankful Thursday -- The Cleaner

Last night, I was at a meeting at our church and came home to the smell of fresh-from-the-oven peanut butter cookies and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Since the boys were just getting into bed, I went in to tell them goodnight. As I gave Cael a hug, he informed me that I could have two cookies. Later, as I was reaching for the first of those cookies, Seth informed me that I could have one. And when I mentioned Cael's information, he checked with Cael, who did indeed affirm that he said I could have two. 

Quite apart from the fact that I've since had three or four cookies, I was pleasantly surprised this morning to see that the dishes from last night had been washed and I needed to do nothing more than enjoy the cookies. 

Today, I am thankful for a husband who enjoys baking, who enjoys baking with his boys, and who willingly and without being asked cleans up after his baking fun with his boys is complete. 

Alpaca Hope

As you probably know, I've had a dream (or something like that) to own alpacas for quite some time. Like years.  And, as you also probably know, Seth has thwarted those dreams for quite some time. Like years. Something about "too expensive" and "you're crazy in the head" and "coyotes will get them." Whatevs. I figure that since we have 21+ acres of land, we should probably do something profitable with it and alpacas seem like a good fit.

The past few days, Seth has been on a business trip in the north. While he was visiting the factories he was supposed to visit, he met one of their maintenance men and, somehow in the process of conversation, found out the guy also happened to be an alpaca farmer on the side. Since the farm was just a mile from the factory, he invited Seth for a visit Monday afternoon. They have about 20 alpacas and, after years of building their herd, they now have a store where they sell alpaca wool and such. Apparently, it's a profitable endeavor for them ("but not profitable enough to retire on" Seth was quick to assure me). 

This morning, Seth brought out the pamphlet and business card from the farm he visited. 

When I saw them, I said, "I knew it! I knew, deep down, you were really interested in alpacas!"

He raised his eyebrow.

"Did the guy have any advice about raising alpacas?" I asked him.

"Maybe you should just ask him yourself," he replied.

I took that as a sign that he was encouraging me to pursue raising alpacas. There is hope, yet, that the Holler Alpacas dream will come to fruition . . . .

"Meet Jesus" Devotional

For part of my professional life, I write short devotionals for a Vacation Bible School program -- the idea is that the volunteers who use the program read the devotionals at the beginning of each day before they begin teaching the children. I've reprinted one from the first day of the Gold Rush program (2011), with permission. (Because I couldn't think of anything else to post today and this was easy.) The Gold Rush: Discovering the Rock of Ages program was a five-day course on who Jesus is.

Day 1: Meet Jesus



In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. John 1:1


Imagine meeting a man who claimed to be God. What would you think? Crazy nut?


Now imagine this man claimed to be the fulfillment of statements written hundreds of years before. Sure, sure, weirdo.

Now imagine the little boy down the street who had died was running around again. The man who claimed to be God had raised him from the dead. It was no trick—you had seen the boy after he died, and he was now playing with your kids.


Makes you think, doesn’t it? Could this man really be who he claimed to be?
This is our Savior.


Even though today, we would (and should) scoff at someone staking a claim to deity, Jesus Christ was the real deal. He was the Creator incarnate, the God-man, the One who came to save His people from their sins, fulfilling the promises God had made since the beginning of time.


As you study your Bible this week, focus your attention on the four gospels. Put aside the genteel storybook notions that cloud the truth about the Messiah. And read the accounts as if for the first time, marveling at the astounding claims Jesus made (“before Abraham was, I AM”); the awesome demonstrations of His power over nature, sin, and death; the amazing fact that He rose from the dead; and the astonishing change in the lives of those He touched.



Of all the people who have ever lived, ever led a religion, ever claimed to be a deity, only Jesus has the credentials to deserve our worship and following. And the only way we can know the truth about Him is through His inspired Word, the Bible.

As you prepare to Meet Jesus with your students today, let’s meditate on this Puritan Prayer about the Rock of Ages.



Thou Great I AM,
Fill my mind with elevation and grandeur at the
thought of a Being
With whom one day is as a thousand years, and a
thousand years as one day.
A mighty God who, amidst the lapse of the worlds, and
the revolutions of empires,
Feels no variableness but is glorious in immortality.
May I rejoice that, while men die, the Lord lives;
That, while all creatures are broken reeds, empty
cisterns, fading fl owers, withering grass,
He is the Rock of Ages, the fountain of Living Waters.
—Arthur Bennet,
The Valley of Vision (The Banner of Truth Trust: 2005), p. 104.

Marriage Advice

Last night, as Seth was getting ready for a work-related overnight trip, he was looking for a backpack to use to carry his clothes on the plane. I pulled one out and in the process found some items that had been in it since the last time we’d traveled to Germany (before Kieran was born!). I thought maybe I would do a post (or two) on some photos from one of those trips and, as I was looking for photos from our time in Europe, I came across our wedding album. I haven’t looked through that album in a long time and it made me smile.

During our engagement, I was hungry for marital advice. I’d read the biblical passages on husbands loving their wives as Christ loved the church and on wives respecting their husbands. And I’d studied the teachings our Creator had given about love and marriage. But I was wondering what that all, practically, looked like.

Wedding rehearsal

Photo credit: Shari Streutker

I like to be prepared (although I always get the Boy Scout “be prepared” hand signal mixed up with Spock “live long and prosper” signal and end up telling people to “be prepared to live long and prosper”) and wanted to go into our marriage with as much practical advice floating in my head as possible. Because the more you know . . . ding!

So, instead of a traditional bridal shower, one of my close friends threw me an “advice party.” We invited several ladies, had brunch, and asked them to share their words of marital wisdom with us. These are some of the things they wrote: 

I enjoyed hearing what people thought made a good marriage. And that continued into our wedding. With our wedding programs, we passed out little cards our guests could use to share their marriage advice with us. I’d forgotten about those cards until last night, when I pulled out the album to look through it. This is what I found:

 It was a fun walk down memory lane to read those cards and remember the fun day that was our wedding over twelve years ago. 

So, tell me please, what's your favorite piece of marital advice?