We are having a fabulous spontaneous day of fun at our house. It snowed last night. Now for most people in locales where it snows, the snow doesn’t slow things down much, but here in the Ozarks they cancel everything before the first flake hits the ground. This is because the roads are so steep and winding that it can be very dangerous driving with even a hint of snow or ice. But of course, there are chores that must be done regardless of the weather. One of these is to care for our dogs.
We have three dogs. One of them is a big bundle of muscle and enthusiasm named Gideon. He is a Malamute mix and a beautiful specimen of doghood. Gideon, our mighty dog of valor, is a confirmed snow lover. Now we know that it is in his blood being the descendent of great sled pullers of old; but this dog is so committed to his heritage that he can be really difficult to control when the white stuff hits. Gideon is a little over nine years old, but any measurable snowfall transforms him into a puppy once again. He bounds back and forth dipping his nose in the snow and shaking it off! He resembles a snowplow or snow blower as he tunnels through the snow causing it to fly over his head and off to the sides. He chases the other dogs, enticing them into a wrestling match. He runs hither and yon at top speed, pulling his human companion with him at tremendous velocity. Today as my oldest daughter “walked” him he went charging along and she found herself moving along so quickly that she had to plunge into deep snow to keep her feet from flying out from under her. And lest you get the idea that she was put off by this dunking, let me tell you the truth. She was laughing merrily and enjoying every minute of the exercise.
The other two dogs are also mixed breed dogs. Jesse is part Australian Blue Heeler, part German shepherd. She has the shape and size of the Aussie, and markings of the Shepherd. She doesn’t like the snow at all. In fact, she doesn’t like water, either. She is a great dog, but when we bathe her she stands obediently and quivers looking at us as though we are torturing her. She has very little coat, and prefers to be indoors when it snow or rains. She doesn’t participate in snow day frivolity. Our other little dog, on the other hand, loves water and snow.
This little dog’s name is Lady, but she is anything but ladylike when it comes to having fun in the water or the snow. In summer, we keep a little wading pool filled with water. She can dive in anytime she desires. She usually jumps in and rolls completely over in the water. She must be completely wet from nose to tail, and then she shakes. She repeats this over and over throughout the day. If she doesn’t have the pool, she will go to her water dish and stick her front feet in, then she digs like crazy. She digs like a maniac until she either dumps all the water or flings it all over herself and anyone else unfortunate enough to be nearby. Today, she wrestled with Gideon and rolled and rolled in the snow until her black coat was completely tipped in white. She resembled a raccoon as she was frosted everywhere but around her eyes!
It was a beautiful sunny day with enough white fluffy cover to make it a lovely romp for our snow bandit and snowplow!
Shauna Bagenstos 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Friday, June 11, 2010
Life's Patchwork
I love patchwork quilts. I could own them in every color of the spectrum. Although my mother and my grandmothers didn't quilt, previous generations did, and we had a wealth of quilts around. These quilts of yesteryear featured heavy winter fabrics, rich colors, and thick wool batting. These workhorse quilts are a testimony to the frugality, creativity, and industry of the women of the past.
As we lived in a rather old (Victorian Era) home with a temperamental gravity furnace, we were accustomed to cold floors and drafty open rooms. Quilts were a mainstay for snuggling up on the couch with a book, or for layering on the old iron bedsteads in the ever chilly upstairs. One of my favorite memories of quilts was crawling in between the sheets and burrowing down into the depths of the huge bed and feeling the weight of the many layers of quilts over me. It was so comforting to feel protected in that cocoon of weighty warmth. When I was sick and had been home in bed all day, Mom would come in to plump my pillows and straighten the bed and she would shake the quilts and "make the bed" with me in it. I felt a great surge of glee as she covered me completely with those bastions of warmth and comfort. I would giggle and wiggle around and she would tell me to "be still." She managed to make me feel better and loved at the same time.
Pioneer families experienced cold like many of us will thankfully never know. While quilt making was, and is, an artform; they knew that the survival of their families, especially their small children, depended on their ability to keep them warm. Children were bundled into beds with siblings and covered with life shielding layers of warmth. They may have also inserted a brick or a rock that had been warmed in the fire.
But quilts were not just a defense against winter's icy fingers. They were also memory preservers for those who made them. They may have been made to commemorate an event such as a wedding or a birth. The scraps of fabric may have had held some significance as many times they were cut from a favorite dress or outfit. These quilters were practicing recycling and a form of scrapbooking while fiercely protecting their families from a silent enemy- the cold
Most of today's quilters are not using old garments, but are carefully choosing their quilt's palette from an endless array of fabrics crafted with the quilter in mind. These fabrics are color matched and may include complementary themed prints. Yesterday's quilters would be amazed at the possibilities available to them, but they would also be bewildered. Imagine coming from the mindset of a pioneer woman who has more to do than she can get done in a day, a very poor source of light to work in the evening, and winter coming before she knows it. She has no budget for materials, and the knowledge that she must get this done. She is a wizard of ingenuity and thrift. She uses the minutest scraps from her scrap bag, (nothing wasted) and takes the fabric from outgrown or worn out clothing and finds the parts with the least wear and works them into a lovely crazy quilt. It doesn't follow any particular pattern, but with some embroidery accents, becomes a very attractive, sturdy, and warm cover for her child's bed. Our pioneer woman lovingly prepared her family for winter. While it was aesthetically pleasing, and had memories associated with it, her main objective was practicality.
I could go on and on about quilts, there is much to study about them. The patterns hold a great deal of meaning and can stem from various sources. I enjoyed reading about the Biblical origins of many popular quilt designs. Another interesting bit of information was about the use of flour sacks in quilts and clothing; again, another great example of recycling. This practice began in the 1840's when the cotton price dropped and cotton feed sacks began to replace barrels as a means to store and sell dry goods. Thrifty women began to use this fabric to make undergarments as the bags were made of unbleached muslin. I laughed as I read of the trouble that those pesky labels caused, and the procedures these ladies developed to rid themselves of these annoyances. Imagine the embarrassment to a well-mannered lady to fall and have her under things show at all, let alone with "Southern Best" or "Self Rising" emblazoned on them. Soon, the manufacturers began to see the marketing potential of providing printed fabrics (and peel off paper labels). Women would buy their flour, sugar, cornmeal, beans, and rice on the basis of the print. The companies began to produce complementary prints to entice these women to buy more dry goods. This practice continued until the 1950's when paper bags became the choice of manufacturers.
I had some pretty calico shorts when I was a child. They were made from a flour sack my grandmother had been saving for just the right project. As I recall, I was climbing a fence to see a new batch of kittens when my shorts caught on nail and ripped. Embarrassing as this was, I am glad now that she hadn't also made my underwear and I that I was not imprinted with some advertising slogan, although I don't think anyone but my grandparents saw the incident. Sorry, I couldn't resist interjecting my own flour sack story, but I will continue now with the purpose of this article.
My great-grandmother on my mother's side was born in a small log cabin in the late 1890's in the frigid woods of Wisconsin. Some of my favorite stories growing up were the Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I had drawn up plans for my own one room cabin; which I planned to build on my other grandma's farm. Gramma Simpson said, "Why would you want to build a drafty, dark, old cabin?" She had no use for them. In fact, she shuddered as she said it. She saw no romance in the idea. It brought back vivid memories of being cold, and she was so thankful not to live that way anymore. She may have known how to quilt, but she didn't. She was a very good seamstress and knitter. She made most of my clothes when I was small. I was the first great grandchild, and she made sure I was well dressed. She was extremely frugal, saving all the scraps from every project. I also remember her coming to stay with us when I was almost four to care for us until my brother was born. She lay on the floor and braided us a very large, wool rug for our den floor. She scoured and cleaned and made all sorts of wonderful baked goods, and she also caught our Apricot tree on fire, but that's a different story.
When I was about ten years old, my mom decided she wanted to make me one of those patchwork maxi skirts that were becoming popular. She asked Gramma Simpson for some scraps from which to cut squares for the skirt. When she brought out the fabric, it was like a trip down memory lane. I recognized fabric from my clothes from years gone by, my mom's maternity clothes, my grandma's dresses, even my little brother's clothes. Gramma didn't waste anything. I wouldn't have normally put all those different prints and colors together. In fact, I wouldn't have considered wearing an outfit made of many of those prints, but small quantities arranged in the right manner produced a pleasing piece.
I remember some particularly startling fabric that Gramma gave me for a project I was making. I don't know why she had it, or what had used it for, or even if she did ever use it. It was chartreuse with shiny black painted polka dots. I liked some garish things when I was a child, but even I thought it was ugly. I was making some doll quilts. I just needed a few pieces of the right shape and size to fill in some gaps. I pieced in that ugly green fabric. I was probably squinting, but you know, with the other whimsical fabrics I had chosen, it was okay.
Experiences of varying types and duration make up the fabric of our lives. While we may not want a whole bolt of any particular piece; in small quantities they can add contrast and depth to the quilt of our life.
Shauna Bagenstos 2008-2010
If you care to read more about the history of quilts, here is a link to a nice little site with many articles about American quilt history.
http://www.womenfolk.com/quilt_pattern_history/patchwork.htm
As we lived in a rather old (Victorian Era) home with a temperamental gravity furnace, we were accustomed to cold floors and drafty open rooms. Quilts were a mainstay for snuggling up on the couch with a book, or for layering on the old iron bedsteads in the ever chilly upstairs. One of my favorite memories of quilts was crawling in between the sheets and burrowing down into the depths of the huge bed and feeling the weight of the many layers of quilts over me. It was so comforting to feel protected in that cocoon of weighty warmth. When I was sick and had been home in bed all day, Mom would come in to plump my pillows and straighten the bed and she would shake the quilts and "make the bed" with me in it. I felt a great surge of glee as she covered me completely with those bastions of warmth and comfort. I would giggle and wiggle around and she would tell me to "be still." She managed to make me feel better and loved at the same time.
Pioneer families experienced cold like many of us will thankfully never know. While quilt making was, and is, an artform; they knew that the survival of their families, especially their small children, depended on their ability to keep them warm. Children were bundled into beds with siblings and covered with life shielding layers of warmth. They may have also inserted a brick or a rock that had been warmed in the fire.
But quilts were not just a defense against winter's icy fingers. They were also memory preservers for those who made them. They may have been made to commemorate an event such as a wedding or a birth. The scraps of fabric may have had held some significance as many times they were cut from a favorite dress or outfit. These quilters were practicing recycling and a form of scrapbooking while fiercely protecting their families from a silent enemy- the cold
Most of today's quilters are not using old garments, but are carefully choosing their quilt's palette from an endless array of fabrics crafted with the quilter in mind. These fabrics are color matched and may include complementary themed prints. Yesterday's quilters would be amazed at the possibilities available to them, but they would also be bewildered. Imagine coming from the mindset of a pioneer woman who has more to do than she can get done in a day, a very poor source of light to work in the evening, and winter coming before she knows it. She has no budget for materials, and the knowledge that she must get this done. She is a wizard of ingenuity and thrift. She uses the minutest scraps from her scrap bag, (nothing wasted) and takes the fabric from outgrown or worn out clothing and finds the parts with the least wear and works them into a lovely crazy quilt. It doesn't follow any particular pattern, but with some embroidery accents, becomes a very attractive, sturdy, and warm cover for her child's bed. Our pioneer woman lovingly prepared her family for winter. While it was aesthetically pleasing, and had memories associated with it, her main objective was practicality.
I could go on and on about quilts, there is much to study about them. The patterns hold a great deal of meaning and can stem from various sources. I enjoyed reading about the Biblical origins of many popular quilt designs. Another interesting bit of information was about the use of flour sacks in quilts and clothing; again, another great example of recycling. This practice began in the 1840's when the cotton price dropped and cotton feed sacks began to replace barrels as a means to store and sell dry goods. Thrifty women began to use this fabric to make undergarments as the bags were made of unbleached muslin. I laughed as I read of the trouble that those pesky labels caused, and the procedures these ladies developed to rid themselves of these annoyances. Imagine the embarrassment to a well-mannered lady to fall and have her under things show at all, let alone with "Southern Best" or "Self Rising" emblazoned on them. Soon, the manufacturers began to see the marketing potential of providing printed fabrics (and peel off paper labels). Women would buy their flour, sugar, cornmeal, beans, and rice on the basis of the print. The companies began to produce complementary prints to entice these women to buy more dry goods. This practice continued until the 1950's when paper bags became the choice of manufacturers.
I had some pretty calico shorts when I was a child. They were made from a flour sack my grandmother had been saving for just the right project. As I recall, I was climbing a fence to see a new batch of kittens when my shorts caught on nail and ripped. Embarrassing as this was, I am glad now that she hadn't also made my underwear and I that I was not imprinted with some advertising slogan, although I don't think anyone but my grandparents saw the incident. Sorry, I couldn't resist interjecting my own flour sack story, but I will continue now with the purpose of this article.
My great-grandmother on my mother's side was born in a small log cabin in the late 1890's in the frigid woods of Wisconsin. Some of my favorite stories growing up were the Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I had drawn up plans for my own one room cabin; which I planned to build on my other grandma's farm. Gramma Simpson said, "Why would you want to build a drafty, dark, old cabin?" She had no use for them. In fact, she shuddered as she said it. She saw no romance in the idea. It brought back vivid memories of being cold, and she was so thankful not to live that way anymore. She may have known how to quilt, but she didn't. She was a very good seamstress and knitter. She made most of my clothes when I was small. I was the first great grandchild, and she made sure I was well dressed. She was extremely frugal, saving all the scraps from every project. I also remember her coming to stay with us when I was almost four to care for us until my brother was born. She lay on the floor and braided us a very large, wool rug for our den floor. She scoured and cleaned and made all sorts of wonderful baked goods, and she also caught our Apricot tree on fire, but that's a different story.
When I was about ten years old, my mom decided she wanted to make me one of those patchwork maxi skirts that were becoming popular. She asked Gramma Simpson for some scraps from which to cut squares for the skirt. When she brought out the fabric, it was like a trip down memory lane. I recognized fabric from my clothes from years gone by, my mom's maternity clothes, my grandma's dresses, even my little brother's clothes. Gramma didn't waste anything. I wouldn't have normally put all those different prints and colors together. In fact, I wouldn't have considered wearing an outfit made of many of those prints, but small quantities arranged in the right manner produced a pleasing piece.
I remember some particularly startling fabric that Gramma gave me for a project I was making. I don't know why she had it, or what had used it for, or even if she did ever use it. It was chartreuse with shiny black painted polka dots. I liked some garish things when I was a child, but even I thought it was ugly. I was making some doll quilts. I just needed a few pieces of the right shape and size to fill in some gaps. I pieced in that ugly green fabric. I was probably squinting, but you know, with the other whimsical fabrics I had chosen, it was okay.
Experiences of varying types and duration make up the fabric of our lives. While we may not want a whole bolt of any particular piece; in small quantities they can add contrast and depth to the quilt of our life.
Shauna Bagenstos 2008-2010
If you care to read more about the history of quilts, here is a link to a nice little site with many articles about American quilt history.
http://www.womenfolk.com/quilt_pattern_history/patchwork.htm
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
The Race of Time
Do you ever feel as though your life is racing by? I have been feeling this way a great deal lately. My children are growing up quickly. My two older daughters have already passed their twentieth birthdays, and my son is going to turn eighteen in mere months. My youngest daughter turned fifteen recently. As I am faced with the harsh reality that my children, are for the most part, not children anymore; I think of all the things I had planned to do with the kids that I just never quite got around to doing.
Life seems to be a chain of endless events. We seem to rush from one thing to another in a frenzy of activity. Most of these activities are necessary. Church, work, school, and chores comprise most of our lives. But we manage to find time for fun things as well. I find as I look back over my life that the memories I most cherish are not the major events such as vacations and theme parks, but the spontaneous hilarity that erupts frequently on the road of everyday life. I think of the innocent statements that become family jokes and linger indefinitely. These statements are brought up over and over again and never fail to produce fond memories and laughs. They are applied to various situations whether they are related or not. These “inside” jokes are a phenomenon of family life, and give us a sense of belonging. Our families are exclusive clubs that one must share DNA or a marriage covenant to be granted admittance. What tickles our funny bone may not make a bit of sense to another family with another family culture, but to us it is the sweet bond of unity.
My daughters and I went on a trip recently. In the course of a few days, we had several of these spontaneous occurrences. One of these was at a buffet restaurant. I asked my daughter to go to the salad bar and smell the soup and tell me if it was any good. She said “No.” She had a quizzical look on her face, as she thought I meant to actually lean down and take a whiff of the soup pot. Of course I was not encouraging her to do anything that weird. I simply meant that when she was near the soup if it smelled good, to bring me some. After I had explained what I really meant, she went up to look at the soup. She came back and with great emphasis said, “Mom, that soup is missing EVERYTHING!” We all burst into gales of laughter.
It was chicken noodle soup. I immediately knew what she was saying. I knew what to expect at that restaurant, and I was merely interested in it’s fitness/freshness. I knew it was going to be a thin soup. It was basically just broth, thin noodles and smallish pieces of chicken. She, on the other hand, expected chicken soup like I make from scratch at home. My chicken soup contains large chunks of chicken, carrots, celery, onions, homemade wide noodles and brown rice and a whole host of spices. It is really more of a chicken stew. She was right, that soup was missing everything. My, what mileage we have gotten from that statement!
The seasons of life come and go as quickly as the seasons of the year. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, Babyhood, Childhood, Adolescence, Adulthood. Time is flying into timelessness. Take time to enjoy the seasons as the pass, and remember that the imprint you make in your children’s lives today will continue to impact them as they enter adulthood and beyond.
Shauna Bagenstso 2010
Life seems to be a chain of endless events. We seem to rush from one thing to another in a frenzy of activity. Most of these activities are necessary. Church, work, school, and chores comprise most of our lives. But we manage to find time for fun things as well. I find as I look back over my life that the memories I most cherish are not the major events such as vacations and theme parks, but the spontaneous hilarity that erupts frequently on the road of everyday life. I think of the innocent statements that become family jokes and linger indefinitely. These statements are brought up over and over again and never fail to produce fond memories and laughs. They are applied to various situations whether they are related or not. These “inside” jokes are a phenomenon of family life, and give us a sense of belonging. Our families are exclusive clubs that one must share DNA or a marriage covenant to be granted admittance. What tickles our funny bone may not make a bit of sense to another family with another family culture, but to us it is the sweet bond of unity.
My daughters and I went on a trip recently. In the course of a few days, we had several of these spontaneous occurrences. One of these was at a buffet restaurant. I asked my daughter to go to the salad bar and smell the soup and tell me if it was any good. She said “No.” She had a quizzical look on her face, as she thought I meant to actually lean down and take a whiff of the soup pot. Of course I was not encouraging her to do anything that weird. I simply meant that when she was near the soup if it smelled good, to bring me some. After I had explained what I really meant, she went up to look at the soup. She came back and with great emphasis said, “Mom, that soup is missing EVERYTHING!” We all burst into gales of laughter.
It was chicken noodle soup. I immediately knew what she was saying. I knew what to expect at that restaurant, and I was merely interested in it’s fitness/freshness. I knew it was going to be a thin soup. It was basically just broth, thin noodles and smallish pieces of chicken. She, on the other hand, expected chicken soup like I make from scratch at home. My chicken soup contains large chunks of chicken, carrots, celery, onions, homemade wide noodles and brown rice and a whole host of spices. It is really more of a chicken stew. She was right, that soup was missing everything. My, what mileage we have gotten from that statement!
The seasons of life come and go as quickly as the seasons of the year. Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, Babyhood, Childhood, Adolescence, Adulthood. Time is flying into timelessness. Take time to enjoy the seasons as the pass, and remember that the imprint you make in your children’s lives today will continue to impact them as they enter adulthood and beyond.
Shauna Bagenstso 2010
Such a Lovely Evening
My husband and I just celebrated our 24th wedding anniversary. We haven’t done much to celebrate our anniversaries over the years. We usually try to grab an evening together, which includes a meal at a pleasant restaurant. Although our children are adults and nearly adults now and childcare is not an issue, we still live a very fast-paced lifestyle and it can be hard to carve out the time for such an event. We cherish these moments of “face time.” I still believe that the basis for a good marriage is great communication, which requires commitment and perseverance.
This year, as in years past, we weren’t able to celebrate on the actual date, but a few days later we were finally able to spend an evening together. My husband had planned to take me to the Keeter Center, which is a combination hotel and restaurant on the College of the Ozarks campus in Hollister, Missouri. .
If you are not familiar with College of the Ozarks, let me give you a brief history. Originally named School of the Ozarks, it was founded in 1906 by a Presbyterian minister. His mission was to offer education to “worthy” high school aged students in the Ozarks whose parents could not afford to send them to school. In exchange for this academic opportunity the students worked in the daily operations of the school and it’s supporting farm. In 1956 a two-year junior college program was added, and in 1965 it became a four year accredited college. The high school was phased out. Later, the name was changed to College of the Ozarks. Since then, it has blossomed into a beautiful campus with opportunities for students to develop both academically and spiritually. Students still earn their education by working in various capacities throughout the campus and the school has been affectionately dubbed “Hard Work U.”
The Keeter Center is one of the work venues for the students. It is a beautiful historic log lodge with a massive fireplace, and a gift shop, which sells the wares that are made by the students. It also houses the hotel, restaurant, a coffee booth and an ice cream counter. It contains an eclectic assortment of rustic furnishings. Gnarled carved wood chairs, a comfortable lounge area near the fireplace and historical exhibits grace the lobby. The lodgey rustic theme reminds me of Old Faithful Inn at Yellowstone.
I had been to an informal meeting in the lobby before, and had enjoyed sitting by the fire sipping my Chai Latte. My husband’s company had its Christmas party in one of the banquet rooms. I was impressed with that meal. Usually, catered banquets feature boring, run of the mill food. But the Keeter Center’s fare was different. I had a lovely Chicken Cordon Bleu. Not the machine made variety you buy in the freezer section, but honest to goodness real chicken stuffed with juicy ham and cheese sauce. The salad had real greens, not the typical cheap iceberg lettuce usually found at these events, and an interesting Apple dressing. The veggies were not overcooked, and the wait staff was very pleasant. With this in mind, I was very interested in having another meal at the Keeter Center.
So now we are back to our anniversary date. The dining room closes fairly early and we were later than we had intended. We arrived and saw some dear friends from church who were just leaving the dining room. We spoke with them briefly before we were seated. The room features a pressed copper ceiling and a rustic décor. Although the menu is what you would call “fine dining,” I felt very comfortable in nice black jeans and a cute ruffled top. We were seated toward the back of the room not far from the baby grand piano. The young lady was playing a pleasing medley. I assume from her skill that she is a music major, but I forgot to ask. Our waiter was a very tall, nice looking young man with a slight foreign accent. He was dressed in white linen, as was our table. We did ask him his major and found that he is a business administration student, and the Center of the basketball team. He gave us impeccable service, being both polite and articulate.
Our gracious young man brought us a basket of freshly baked wheat rolls and some very interesting cranberry-raisin biscuits. The biscuits are a house specialty. I found it funny, in an endearing sort of way. I have never been served biscuits in that setting before, but it fits the mood of the place, and the region. They were served with these adorable little cast iron skillets bearing apple butter and whipped butter. The apple butter is made on campus by students and is available for purchase. Apple butter figures prominently in the historical roots in this area. I had to try the biscuits, even though they didn’t really match the entrée I ordered. I like to experience the culture of the areas I visit. The biscuits were very good, and the apple butter was delicious. In fact, as I am writing this I have developed a serious craving for apple butter. I had to stop and eat some. Yum! Okay, I’m back. My husband ate the wheat roll, which complemented his Prime Rib and vegetables very well. The veggies were an assortment of grilled root vegetables. They looked healthy.
I had the Smoked Chicken Fettucine Alfredo. It was delightful and oh, so scrumptious! It was a fairly large portion, more than I could eat, and I was hungry. It had a green ring of oil around the outside rim of the plate. I had never been served green Alfredo before and asked our server why it was green. That made for a rather amusing moment. He looked very concerned as he explained that it was Basil oil and was meant to enhance the presentation, and in the next breath he offered to take it away and bring me some without the oil. I laughed and said that I wasn’t dissatisfied, just curious. He looked relieved. I guess other people don’t ask questions about the food.
While we were savoring our meals, we were enjoying a splendid conversation. We hardly noticed when everyone else vacated and we were the only diners left. We came down from our reverie and finished eating. As we were preparing to get up from the table; the Host came and told us that our bill had been paid. The friends, we had seen on the way in, waited in the lobby until we had ordered and paid for everything. God is so good to give us such amazing friends. We were truly blessed!
We have resolved to make more occasions to reconnect and appreciate one another’s company. Communication is the hallmark of any good relationship and cannot be viewed as a luxury. It must be a staple for the relationship to be vibrant. While it might not be practical to go out for a fancy meal every week, we can still make the time for a meaningful conversation. We used to walk every evening at the park and sit by the river and visit. Sometimes we have been able to meet for coffee and spend a few moments conversing about something other than schedules and business. There are numerous ways to create some time to be a couple. I encourage you to find one of those ways and ensure the health of your marriage.
And if you are ever in the Ozarks I encourage you stop into the Keeter Center. Sample their fine cuisine, purchase a fruitcake, some apple butter, or some pottery made by the students at the school. Stay at the historic hotel that boasts two presidents as former patrons, or have an ice cream cone or a latte in the lobby. You might also enjoy learning the history of the area at the Ralph Foster Museum, housed on campus. I think this is a time-honored institution that deserves our support.
Shauna Bagenstos 2010
This year, as in years past, we weren’t able to celebrate on the actual date, but a few days later we were finally able to spend an evening together. My husband had planned to take me to the Keeter Center, which is a combination hotel and restaurant on the College of the Ozarks campus in Hollister, Missouri. .
If you are not familiar with College of the Ozarks, let me give you a brief history. Originally named School of the Ozarks, it was founded in 1906 by a Presbyterian minister. His mission was to offer education to “worthy” high school aged students in the Ozarks whose parents could not afford to send them to school. In exchange for this academic opportunity the students worked in the daily operations of the school and it’s supporting farm. In 1956 a two-year junior college program was added, and in 1965 it became a four year accredited college. The high school was phased out. Later, the name was changed to College of the Ozarks. Since then, it has blossomed into a beautiful campus with opportunities for students to develop both academically and spiritually. Students still earn their education by working in various capacities throughout the campus and the school has been affectionately dubbed “Hard Work U.”
The Keeter Center is one of the work venues for the students. It is a beautiful historic log lodge with a massive fireplace, and a gift shop, which sells the wares that are made by the students. It also houses the hotel, restaurant, a coffee booth and an ice cream counter. It contains an eclectic assortment of rustic furnishings. Gnarled carved wood chairs, a comfortable lounge area near the fireplace and historical exhibits grace the lobby. The lodgey rustic theme reminds me of Old Faithful Inn at Yellowstone.
I had been to an informal meeting in the lobby before, and had enjoyed sitting by the fire sipping my Chai Latte. My husband’s company had its Christmas party in one of the banquet rooms. I was impressed with that meal. Usually, catered banquets feature boring, run of the mill food. But the Keeter Center’s fare was different. I had a lovely Chicken Cordon Bleu. Not the machine made variety you buy in the freezer section, but honest to goodness real chicken stuffed with juicy ham and cheese sauce. The salad had real greens, not the typical cheap iceberg lettuce usually found at these events, and an interesting Apple dressing. The veggies were not overcooked, and the wait staff was very pleasant. With this in mind, I was very interested in having another meal at the Keeter Center.
So now we are back to our anniversary date. The dining room closes fairly early and we were later than we had intended. We arrived and saw some dear friends from church who were just leaving the dining room. We spoke with them briefly before we were seated. The room features a pressed copper ceiling and a rustic décor. Although the menu is what you would call “fine dining,” I felt very comfortable in nice black jeans and a cute ruffled top. We were seated toward the back of the room not far from the baby grand piano. The young lady was playing a pleasing medley. I assume from her skill that she is a music major, but I forgot to ask. Our waiter was a very tall, nice looking young man with a slight foreign accent. He was dressed in white linen, as was our table. We did ask him his major and found that he is a business administration student, and the Center of the basketball team. He gave us impeccable service, being both polite and articulate.
Our gracious young man brought us a basket of freshly baked wheat rolls and some very interesting cranberry-raisin biscuits. The biscuits are a house specialty. I found it funny, in an endearing sort of way. I have never been served biscuits in that setting before, but it fits the mood of the place, and the region. They were served with these adorable little cast iron skillets bearing apple butter and whipped butter. The apple butter is made on campus by students and is available for purchase. Apple butter figures prominently in the historical roots in this area. I had to try the biscuits, even though they didn’t really match the entrée I ordered. I like to experience the culture of the areas I visit. The biscuits were very good, and the apple butter was delicious. In fact, as I am writing this I have developed a serious craving for apple butter. I had to stop and eat some. Yum! Okay, I’m back. My husband ate the wheat roll, which complemented his Prime Rib and vegetables very well. The veggies were an assortment of grilled root vegetables. They looked healthy.
I had the Smoked Chicken Fettucine Alfredo. It was delightful and oh, so scrumptious! It was a fairly large portion, more than I could eat, and I was hungry. It had a green ring of oil around the outside rim of the plate. I had never been served green Alfredo before and asked our server why it was green. That made for a rather amusing moment. He looked very concerned as he explained that it was Basil oil and was meant to enhance the presentation, and in the next breath he offered to take it away and bring me some without the oil. I laughed and said that I wasn’t dissatisfied, just curious. He looked relieved. I guess other people don’t ask questions about the food.
While we were savoring our meals, we were enjoying a splendid conversation. We hardly noticed when everyone else vacated and we were the only diners left. We came down from our reverie and finished eating. As we were preparing to get up from the table; the Host came and told us that our bill had been paid. The friends, we had seen on the way in, waited in the lobby until we had ordered and paid for everything. God is so good to give us such amazing friends. We were truly blessed!
We have resolved to make more occasions to reconnect and appreciate one another’s company. Communication is the hallmark of any good relationship and cannot be viewed as a luxury. It must be a staple for the relationship to be vibrant. While it might not be practical to go out for a fancy meal every week, we can still make the time for a meaningful conversation. We used to walk every evening at the park and sit by the river and visit. Sometimes we have been able to meet for coffee and spend a few moments conversing about something other than schedules and business. There are numerous ways to create some time to be a couple. I encourage you to find one of those ways and ensure the health of your marriage.
And if you are ever in the Ozarks I encourage you stop into the Keeter Center. Sample their fine cuisine, purchase a fruitcake, some apple butter, or some pottery made by the students at the school. Stay at the historic hotel that boasts two presidents as former patrons, or have an ice cream cone or a latte in the lobby. You might also enjoy learning the history of the area at the Ralph Foster Museum, housed on campus. I think this is a time-honored institution that deserves our support.
Shauna Bagenstos 2010
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Rock Solid
Time passes so quickly. It seems that just a few days ago, we were in the tempestuous days of transition from winter to spring. The seasons appear to find it difficult to change without a tug of war. We enjoyed brilliant spring days with flowering trees and bulbs. It was warm and rainy one day then cold and snowy the next. Then a few days later it was above eighty degrees and we wondered if we would skip directly to summer. Then we suffered a setback: more cold, rainy, days, and with the abrupt changes came some violent storms. As the storms moved off to the east, the temperatures soared once again. Just when we thought we had broken through, we were once again shivering along with the flowers and the trees. The temperatures were achieving a yo-yo effect.
In just a few short weeks we have progressed through the process of budding and blooming and leafing out. We are now completely revitalized. It is hard to remember the bleak, gray, nothingness of winter.
Even though it is only the latter part of May, our landscape is dressed in her summer finery. Our Ozark scenery is arrayed in a varying palette of colors. I don’t remember living anywhere else where we have seen such a vast number of different wildflowers displayed prominently at every intersection and roadside.
My daughter works in a Victorian boutique, and I have been amazed to learn how often the store must be re-decorated and re-arranged. The store is decked out in sumptuous displays that beg you to stop and enjoy them. That shop is conservative in comparison to God’s roadside window dressing. He provides a lavish and ever-changing exhibit of color and texture. I have often been tempted as I sit at an intersection to jump out of my car and scurry around gathering wildflowers in my arms. I have restrained myself so as to not divulge my lunacy to all around, but as I write this, I have no good explanation for not enjoying my surroundings to the fullest.
One of my favorite sights is the roadside bluff. Most of these are not naturally occurring. They were created as the roads were made. The back roads of this area are a vast network of switch- backs, very steeply pitched and full of hair-pin turns. So when they put in the highways; they blasted through the hills to make straighter, safer roads; which provide a more direct route to popular destinations. This blasting has created some very interesting textures and silhouettes.
The layers of rock that are exposed are fascinating to me in themselves; with their contrasting colors. Many times they have darker hues where water is seeping through, or cascading down the face of the bluff. They may have vines twining up their faces like wizened men who have forgotten to shave. Some of these bluffs have been powerfully impacted by the elements. The high water table bleeding through the strata coupled with the very plentiful rain has eroded these rock structures into very interesting monoliths. Some of them appear to have grown out of the ground and seem to be standing as sentinels watching the traffic go by. They are craggy and rough, with a look of age and knowledge. Others peer out from behind their green cloaks of vines, wildflowers, and weeds. Some seem to have a shock of green hair like friendly giants watching from the side. Many of them wear a garland of wildflowers on their heads providing a whimsical contrast to their sober faces. I never cease to gain enjoyment from seeing these reminders of the age and substance of these Ozark hills.
I am reminded that these hills are infants in comparison to our God. The times we are living in are as turbulent as spring weather, but He remains the same. His word is true and there is a reason why the scripture speaks of Him over and over as a rock. (Psalm 18:2, 62:7, 94:22) He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8) He is the author and the finisher of our faith. (Hebrews 12:2) In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (John 1:1,3&14)
God will stand unchanged, long after these hills have melted away. (Nahum 1:5, 2 Peter 3:10) He is forever. He is ageless, timeless, and completely steadfast and true. (Proverbs 8:25, Revelation 19:11) He is never surprised, never unnerved, never upset. He knows the end from the beginning and can change any circumstance, but He Himself is unchanged. In these seemingly uncertain times we can be confident that God is still true to His word (Isaiah 46:10). He will do just exactly what He said He would do. (Psalm 33:4)
You may be facing challenging circumstances right now. You may not feel as though you are going to make it. Find a scripture that addresses your problem and hold on to it. It will not fail. It will produce what it says, (Isaiah 55:11) and when the dust settles, you will be standing like one of these bluffs, strong, solid and unmoved!
In just a few short weeks we have progressed through the process of budding and blooming and leafing out. We are now completely revitalized. It is hard to remember the bleak, gray, nothingness of winter.
Even though it is only the latter part of May, our landscape is dressed in her summer finery. Our Ozark scenery is arrayed in a varying palette of colors. I don’t remember living anywhere else where we have seen such a vast number of different wildflowers displayed prominently at every intersection and roadside.
My daughter works in a Victorian boutique, and I have been amazed to learn how often the store must be re-decorated and re-arranged. The store is decked out in sumptuous displays that beg you to stop and enjoy them. That shop is conservative in comparison to God’s roadside window dressing. He provides a lavish and ever-changing exhibit of color and texture. I have often been tempted as I sit at an intersection to jump out of my car and scurry around gathering wildflowers in my arms. I have restrained myself so as to not divulge my lunacy to all around, but as I write this, I have no good explanation for not enjoying my surroundings to the fullest.
One of my favorite sights is the roadside bluff. Most of these are not naturally occurring. They were created as the roads were made. The back roads of this area are a vast network of switch- backs, very steeply pitched and full of hair-pin turns. So when they put in the highways; they blasted through the hills to make straighter, safer roads; which provide a more direct route to popular destinations. This blasting has created some very interesting textures and silhouettes.
The layers of rock that are exposed are fascinating to me in themselves; with their contrasting colors. Many times they have darker hues where water is seeping through, or cascading down the face of the bluff. They may have vines twining up their faces like wizened men who have forgotten to shave. Some of these bluffs have been powerfully impacted by the elements. The high water table bleeding through the strata coupled with the very plentiful rain has eroded these rock structures into very interesting monoliths. Some of them appear to have grown out of the ground and seem to be standing as sentinels watching the traffic go by. They are craggy and rough, with a look of age and knowledge. Others peer out from behind their green cloaks of vines, wildflowers, and weeds. Some seem to have a shock of green hair like friendly giants watching from the side. Many of them wear a garland of wildflowers on their heads providing a whimsical contrast to their sober faces. I never cease to gain enjoyment from seeing these reminders of the age and substance of these Ozark hills.
I am reminded that these hills are infants in comparison to our God. The times we are living in are as turbulent as spring weather, but He remains the same. His word is true and there is a reason why the scripture speaks of Him over and over as a rock. (Psalm 18:2, 62:7, 94:22) He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8) He is the author and the finisher of our faith. (Hebrews 12:2) In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. (John 1:1,3&14)
God will stand unchanged, long after these hills have melted away. (Nahum 1:5, 2 Peter 3:10) He is forever. He is ageless, timeless, and completely steadfast and true. (Proverbs 8:25, Revelation 19:11) He is never surprised, never unnerved, never upset. He knows the end from the beginning and can change any circumstance, but He Himself is unchanged. In these seemingly uncertain times we can be confident that God is still true to His word (Isaiah 46:10). He will do just exactly what He said He would do. (Psalm 33:4)
You may be facing challenging circumstances right now. You may not feel as though you are going to make it. Find a scripture that addresses your problem and hold on to it. It will not fail. It will produce what it says, (Isaiah 55:11) and when the dust settles, you will be standing like one of these bluffs, strong, solid and unmoved!
Friday, January 30, 2009
Not Entirely Random
I just completed a request from some of my Facebook friends for “25 Random Things About Myself”. I have been told before that I am too serious. In fact, a minister friend once said to me “Shauna, you need to get out and read a funny book.” I have a very serious side. I am passionate about the plan of God for my life and about being a good wife and mother. I am a stickler for the Word of God, and being a doer of the Word. I am very opinionated, and have strong feelings about many subjects. Because of these traits that I am known most for among my close acquaintances, I chose to chronicle 25 of my more whimsical traits. Here they are:
Everyone who knows me at all, knows my serious side. In fact, most people think that is my only side. I am actually surprisingly multi-faceted. So, here, I am itemizing some of my lesser known and more zany qualities.
1) My brother calls me a troll. " A Troll is nothing if not thorough." (Patrick McManus) She laughs trollishly. Ha Ha!
2) I prefer gnomes. Gnomes seem more friendly, they have cheery, bright red hats, and they are friends with otters. Otters are playful. Everyone otter have an otter for a friend.
3) Ice cream is a basic food group. Mint Chocolate Chip is my favorite followed by Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. Blue Bell is Tops! After homemade of course.
4) I like moose and loons. Does this make me looney? I like pretty much anything lodgey.
5) I really love cows. Raw milk, cheese, real butter and ice cream are all necessities. Life is about cheese, but not about blue cheese, because that is just mold. Andrew understands this.
6) Animals and children love and trust me, and they are very good judges of character.
7) I always have a dictionary and thesaurus handy. I just have to know.
8) I adore a good pun.
9) I really enjoy anything Victorian. I want a big rambling country Victorian house with a wrap around porch.
10) I also want a log cabin and lots of quilts. It must have a porch overlooking the woods, and a really comfortable rocking chair.
11) I have never outgrown toys. I would love to own a toy store. Especially an educational toy store.
12) I would like to travel all over the world. I especially want to visit Scandinavia and Europe.
13) I have frequent outbursts of singing. Sometimes it makes sense, sometimes it doesn't.
14) I think in rhyme, much of the time.
15) I am not very organized. I used to say this is because my father was the absent minded professor and my mom is an artist; so I missed the neatness gene.
16) Given my last statement, you wouldn't think I would be a germ freak, but I am. I like everything clean. Really, really clean.
17) I have an innate inability to mail things. I just don't get the concept.
18) I am very fond of Scottie Dogs. They make me feel positively plaid.
19) I collect porcelain shoes. There is a family story behind this.
20) I used to paint and really enjoyed it, but I haven't painted a canvas in over 20 years. I was never any good at it, but it was therapy of sorts. I intend to pick it up again when my life calms down.
21) I would like to have a hundred acres or so, and a whole menagerie of wacky animals. I really seem to gravitate toward unusual animals with little or no monetary value.
22) The older I become, the more stories I seem compelled to tell. (Much to the chagrin of my kids I might add)
23) I like cookie dough better than cookies.
24) Chocolate is no longer a vice, it is a health food. Whew! I am sure glad to know that.
25) I like about any kind of tea, but I can't abide coffee of any type.
As whimsical as I am, I really struggled to come up with all of these.
It is interesting is how much time it took me to come up with that list, and how really difficult it was for me. My close friends and family know that I can take about any experience and make it entertaining. I have been accused of thinking that I am the entertainment at family events
So why did I have such a hard time coming up with 25 things on the light-hearted side of my life? Maybe it’s because I don’t really want to talk about myself, or maybe I feel silly revealing that I have a silly side? In any event, I am sure it was a good exercise for me. And I believe that the friends who view this list will undoubtedly recover from the shock and will feel they know me better.
Every year at our church on the first Sunday of February we have what we call Vision Sunday. We spend the weeks leading up to that Sunday praying and searching our hearts. According to Habakkuk 2, we write the vision. We ask the Lord to reveal His plan and purpose for each of our lives. We write the vision of that plan for the next year. We prayerfully decide what we desire to do for the kingdom of God, and we commit ourselves to running our race.
My challenge to you is this: examine your heart and take inventory of your dreams and desires. Where are you on your life’s adventure? What have you accomplished for the Kingdom? What remains to be done? What do you desire God to do for you? Pray and allow God to direct you in His plan. He has a great plan for you. Jeremiah 29: 11 “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Think about that! God has good thoughts about you, and He has planned good things for you.
And while you’re at it, remember that God also has a sense of humor, and acknowledge your whimsical side.
Everyone who knows me at all, knows my serious side. In fact, most people think that is my only side. I am actually surprisingly multi-faceted. So, here, I am itemizing some of my lesser known and more zany qualities.
1) My brother calls me a troll. " A Troll is nothing if not thorough." (Patrick McManus) She laughs trollishly. Ha Ha!
2) I prefer gnomes. Gnomes seem more friendly, they have cheery, bright red hats, and they are friends with otters. Otters are playful. Everyone otter have an otter for a friend.
3) Ice cream is a basic food group. Mint Chocolate Chip is my favorite followed by Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. Blue Bell is Tops! After homemade of course.
4) I like moose and loons. Does this make me looney? I like pretty much anything lodgey.
5) I really love cows. Raw milk, cheese, real butter and ice cream are all necessities. Life is about cheese, but not about blue cheese, because that is just mold. Andrew understands this.
6) Animals and children love and trust me, and they are very good judges of character.
7) I always have a dictionary and thesaurus handy. I just have to know.
8) I adore a good pun.
9) I really enjoy anything Victorian. I want a big rambling country Victorian house with a wrap around porch.
10) I also want a log cabin and lots of quilts. It must have a porch overlooking the woods, and a really comfortable rocking chair.
11) I have never outgrown toys. I would love to own a toy store. Especially an educational toy store.
12) I would like to travel all over the world. I especially want to visit Scandinavia and Europe.
13) I have frequent outbursts of singing. Sometimes it makes sense, sometimes it doesn't.
14) I think in rhyme, much of the time.
15) I am not very organized. I used to say this is because my father was the absent minded professor and my mom is an artist; so I missed the neatness gene.
16) Given my last statement, you wouldn't think I would be a germ freak, but I am. I like everything clean. Really, really clean.
17) I have an innate inability to mail things. I just don't get the concept.
18) I am very fond of Scottie Dogs. They make me feel positively plaid.
19) I collect porcelain shoes. There is a family story behind this.
20) I used to paint and really enjoyed it, but I haven't painted a canvas in over 20 years. I was never any good at it, but it was therapy of sorts. I intend to pick it up again when my life calms down.
21) I would like to have a hundred acres or so, and a whole menagerie of wacky animals. I really seem to gravitate toward unusual animals with little or no monetary value.
22) The older I become, the more stories I seem compelled to tell. (Much to the chagrin of my kids I might add)
23) I like cookie dough better than cookies.
24) Chocolate is no longer a vice, it is a health food. Whew! I am sure glad to know that.
25) I like about any kind of tea, but I can't abide coffee of any type.
As whimsical as I am, I really struggled to come up with all of these.
It is interesting is how much time it took me to come up with that list, and how really difficult it was for me. My close friends and family know that I can take about any experience and make it entertaining. I have been accused of thinking that I am the entertainment at family events
So why did I have such a hard time coming up with 25 things on the light-hearted side of my life? Maybe it’s because I don’t really want to talk about myself, or maybe I feel silly revealing that I have a silly side? In any event, I am sure it was a good exercise for me. And I believe that the friends who view this list will undoubtedly recover from the shock and will feel they know me better.
Every year at our church on the first Sunday of February we have what we call Vision Sunday. We spend the weeks leading up to that Sunday praying and searching our hearts. According to Habakkuk 2, we write the vision. We ask the Lord to reveal His plan and purpose for each of our lives. We write the vision of that plan for the next year. We prayerfully decide what we desire to do for the kingdom of God, and we commit ourselves to running our race.
My challenge to you is this: examine your heart and take inventory of your dreams and desires. Where are you on your life’s adventure? What have you accomplished for the Kingdom? What remains to be done? What do you desire God to do for you? Pray and allow God to direct you in His plan. He has a great plan for you. Jeremiah 29: 11 “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Think about that! God has good thoughts about you, and He has planned good things for you.
And while you’re at it, remember that God also has a sense of humor, and acknowledge your whimsical side.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Winter Illusion
Here in the Ozarks we have three seasons of beauty. Spring is, as I have described before, a luscious feast for the eyes. Summer bestows lush greenery and beautiful wet-weather creeks and waterfalls. It is not uncommon to drive down a busy street and glance off to the side to see a waterfall bubbling by the side of the road, or water cascading down a craggy rock face. And of course there are the lakes glistening in the sunlight. The lakes call to us with their serenity and the promise of a good time to be had. Fishing, water skiing, boating, or just sitting by the edge watching the waterfowl; the lakes offer a variety of entertainments.
Autumn is my favorite time of year। The leaves change almost daily, their subtle variations providing glorious ornamentation to the already beautiful landscape. I haven't painted in years, but each fall, the scenery beckons and I make my children and husband take photographs with the intention of capturing the rich tapestry of color on canvas. Every familiar sight becomes more interesting as Autumn paints it with the fabulous hues of the season.
But in contrast to the thrill the other seasons bring to my senses; I am not as enthusiastic about winter here in the Ozarks. To be fair, I don't like winter in general. I am not a fan of cold weather or snow or ice. I prefer temperatures in the 70's. I have lived in some very wintry places, and I do appreciate the beauty of the scenery clothed in glimmering snow and ice. And here in the Ozarks is no exception. When we get snow here, it is stunningly beautiful as well. The Cedar and Pine trees weighted down with a heavy wet snow and the calm untouched feeling of the landscape is breathtaking. But the problem is, we don't get much snow. If we do get winter precipitation it is usually in the form of treacherous ice. Ice that breaks power lines, leaving people without heat or electricity often for days. It is dangerous on our curvy and steeply pitched roads. It is, as I said, treacherous. Thankfully we don't get ice all the time either. It's not the cold and snow or even ice that makes winter unbearable.
How does the same landscape become so uninviting in the winter? The same features are there, but they are not appealing. The bleak expanse of familiar territory. The dull, lifeless terrain is devoid of color without a blanket of snow to hide it until spring.
That's how it seems in life sometimes। It seems as though it is winter, the weather is cold, but there is nothing beautiful to look at. There are great things you could do with a bit of snow; skiing, snowmobiling, sledding, sleighing, etc... but there is no snow. Day after day, of the same places and things. It seems as if it is one unending sequence of the same thing over and over.
But all the while; the earth is rotating and time is marching on. About the time we are resigned to winter for the rest of our lives; we begin to sense a change in the air. The days are getting longer, the sun is shining brighter, the temperature is a bit warmer. Then we begin to see the visible signs of spring. It's that way with life in general. We feel that we are going through the motions, not making any progress at all. We are on a never ending treadmill. There is no escape from the mistakes of the past, the monotony of the present, no prospect of hope for the future. But just as natural spring comes in it's season bringing with it new growth; so we will suddenly experience a season of growth and the budding of new life if we don't give up.
We all experience times that seem dry and our senses tell us we are flying upside down. It seems as though we won't ever get on course. But if we are following the voice of God and are putting His word in our hearts, we can be assured that the bleak, wintry landscape is just an illusion and spring is just around the corner.
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