Grass Is Always Greener On The Other Side

One thing that I dislike about how I think is I often think of something that could be just a smidge better than what I already have. Now, granted, I’m talking about the seasons of the year here. Right now I’m loving the beautiful summer days we’ve been having in the heartland of America. But….I’ve found myself craving the bright, wild colors of Autumn and the crunch of leaves under my feet. The crisp, clean air and the sounds of high school football games down the street.

Autumn will forever be my favorite season…even though I truely appreciate the other three as well:0)

Cheers!

kvandeway

And So It Seems

Collen Anne

There are so many dreams I dream.

So many evenings when I can hardly will my mind and imagination back to reality, because I know its not quite as much fun as what I’ve conjured up in my over-active mind. Let me just see if I can spurt out a few of the things that are rattling around in my 21 year old brain.

.:.Nature, earth, growing new plants and breathing fresh air.:.

.:.Where I will plant my adult hood roots, my childrens roots and my gardens roots.:.

.:.If I could ever really leave the comfort and security my very own front porch offers me daily, for a life outside of it.:.

.:.Have I really lived through all the storms and battles life’s thrown at me?.:.

.:.Will I ever really go to Ireland and sit on the shores of the Irish Sea, without a care in the world?.:.

.:.Will I ever make a choice or live a certain way that doesn’t have me wondering if I should be doing things differently?.:.

.:.Why did God make me how I am?.:.

.:.What will it feel like to have a mothers love for her children?.:.

.:.The sound of the ocean, the smell of the salty breeze and the peace that insists on washing over me when I’m sitting by the sea.:.

.:.Flashbacks of his death and the days following.:.

.:.Needed healing on open wounds.:.

.:.Always moving forward yet always wishing I could just sit still and soak in my own feelings.:.

.:.The conflict inside of me between the life I want and the life I believe I’m supposed to lead for a while.:.

.:.Balancing out my passions and afflictions so I’m not so hot and cold about things.:.

.:.The stories and subjects everyone in my life talks to me about. They rattle around in my mind over and over, sometimes echoing away and sometimes never getting quieter. I wish I could make the stories stop some days, or at least only keep the good ones.:.

.:.The hard choices in life.:.

…..so those are just a small few of the things that are moving about up in my noggin. I’m tired of thinking, I’m tired of wondering and I believe this is why I resort to day dreaming. Right now, this very second I can give you a wonderful little picture of what I wish I were doing:

.:.It’s morning, I hear the ocean’s waves crashing outside the kitchen window and smell that awesome fresh, fishy air breezing through the house. I’m makin pancakes, light fluffy flap jack kinds of pancakes and my plans for the day are to sit by the water, mist, rain or shine and soak in its might and wonder. I’ll walk from one end of the shore to the other, I’ll sketch a little, read a lot, pray off and on, doze in and out or that peaceful rest I only get when I’m by the sea….and once the sun has set and I’m walking back into this fictional house, after living this fictional day…I slip into bed, flick the light out and fall asleep to the everlasting sound of the waves meeting the shore..:.

Cheers,

kvandeway

 

 

 

Colleen Anne

 

48 Square Pastels

Ben Schone ~ Anna Vandeway

Tess Machlan ~ Rosie Machlan

Papa John ~ Mom

Grandpa ~ Grandma

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::There is little I love as much as listening to people tell me their story. Having one’s own story is something that every single person on the planet has in common, they all have one and they all deserve the chance to share it. I think its a shame that the majority of the time it takes a person graduating to fame or dying before they become really interesting to others. Then again sometimes I imagine it takes a person until the last days of there life before they find themselves important enough to share about their life to others.
::This year, my family and I have had 4 individuals we love pass away. These things happen (and I don’t mean that in a flipant manor) although I prefer them to not happen so close in proximity to each other. But, God is a gracious and caring God and He’s been just as faithful during this time as in any other. As the grieving process has worked its way through each of us, and I imagine its still going to hang out with us for a while, one thing most recently thats accured to me is how self focused grieving can become for me. So, I decided that its better late than never, I’d like to redirect the focus to a postive light and I’ll give a little public honor to my loved ones who’ve gone on to a much better place.
::Here we go,

.:. John “Red” Ganley .:.
6 January 1927 – 11 January 2009
John Ganley is my Grandfather, on my mothers side. We all called him Papa, mostly becaues he thought that the term ‘grandpa’ made him sound to old:) He lived in Massachusetts my whole life, but nearly every year I saw him on a trip out there to visit family. Papa was a proud Irishman and a proud veteran to America. He served in the Army Air Corp in WW2, in fact he was part of the team that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. Papa lived in Maine for a long time, he was on a first name basis with Steven King and he made Adirondike Furniture for a local General Store. He loved gardening all the way around. My mom used to tell me that if she wanted to spend real quality time with Papa as a kid, she’d go out in the garden with him after he got home from work. Guess that explains how she became a gardner..and that was passed on to me. One summer, Papa took the train out to Indiana to visit us. He came in time for the Grabill Country Fair so he decided to bake some Blueberry Muffins and enter them in the competition, in which he got a first place ribbon:) Papa’s Blueberry Muffins are what turned them into one of my favorite baked goods. Nothin’ better than a ‘hot-out-of-the-oven muffin’ with a glass of ice cold milk! Papa was a strong, Irishman up to the very end. He’s greatly missed, but even more greatly loved:0)

.:. Tess Machlan .:.
- – - 11 February 2009
Tess Machlan was an elderly friend of mine. She was born in New York with a strong German heritage. She grew up in Germany during some of her childhood, she’d tell me stories of being in Primary school and refusing to say ‘Heil Hitler’ as the teachers instructed. Tess was a really cool lady, she took me to Europe for three weeks when I was 18-that was a dream come true for me and I really treasure all the awesome memories created during that trip. She was an avid tandem bike rider, she’d go 20 miles in a day with her companion Joe. Tess had a lot of spunk, a lot of character and a wonderful heart. I’m so blessed that she was a part of my life and equally thrilled to say she was the lady that introduced me to the awesome European culture. I’m thankful that Jesus brought her Home so she no longer had to battle Cancer.

.:. Ben Schone .:.
18 July 1983 – 7 April 2009
Hmmm, Ben. This one is a difficult one to talk about…even explain. But I think its important to share what a blessing Ben was to me. Ben was one of my closest friends. He and I teamed up for a lot of free lance photography, hours spent drinking chia and editing pictures…with of course endless breaks in there to look at Muse videos on YouTube or to laugh our asses off at the newest comedian he’d found. Ben was the friend who I’d have a missed call from and I knew I had to wait to call him back until I had a good couple hours because we could never manage a short conversation. They’d start out with ‘hey!’ and after that I could kiss my cheap phone bill goodbye…and gladly so:0) He was super intelligent and passionate; creative and compassionate. He was in Colorado during my birthday so as my gift, he stole a rock from the Continental Divide and brought it home for me. Who does that? haha..Ben does. He was a really loyal friend, he stuck with me even when I couldn’t keep my head on straight. Encouraged me when I was dealing with a disgruntle client I’d done pictures for or lift me up when I was going through some really hard times. Ben was the friend that could come over and it didn’t feel like I had company over, it felt like I had another family member in the house. Aaah, I could go on and on about Ben. But I’m sure you get the picture by now. Or at least a glimps of the picture. Ben’s life and influence is one to be celebrated, one to be remembered. I won’t ever be able to forget him, I’m not interested in trying to either. Even when its hard to remember him. He was a blessing, a great work of Art on God’s part. He’s Home with no more sorrow or turmoil. He’s Home.

.:. Joy Vandeway .:.
24 February 1935 – 14 April 2009
Joy Vandeway was my Grandmother, on my dads side. Grandma was my first pen pal and the lady who instilled my love of letters the old fashioned way, or ‘Snail mail’ as its referred to now days. During my childhood, she lived in Seattle, Washington, but about 11 years ago her and Grandpa moved just a mile down the road from us. Although I definetly missed the bright colored envelopes addressed to me coming in the mail every week, it was pretty awesome having her just a bike ride away:0) She was incredibly creative and artistic. She dabbled in so many different mediums and helped greatly in nurturing my artistic inclinations. Her and I became pretty close friends over the last few years, I grew to consider her a ’safe place’ to go when I was having a hard time. I could be open and honest with her, knowing she wouldn’t judge me harshly and she’d let me get it all off my chest, encouraging me and giving me a fresh perspective on life. I was going through the box of letters from her that I’d saved all these years and I found that in nearly every one there was a picture she’d sent me asking me to color it for her and send it back to her. It’s funny the things I forget…I’d forgotten how much I tried to color inside the lines, shade just right and use rich and exciting colors to make the pictures really pop. All because I knew how much Grandma would like it. Here I am years later, still painting pictures bright and colorful, always wanting to explore what new shade of green or texture of blue I can come up with. Its just over a month since she passed away, I spend a lot of time with Grandpa now, visiting about days past and days to come…remember Grandma. He lives in a house full of reminders of her and I come home a my room each day with just a few reminders, threeof her boxes of 48 Square Pastels passed down to me. How fitting that my little inheritence from her would be art mediums. I’m yet again thankful for the time I had to grow in my friendship with Grandma, and I’m thankful still that she is no longer sick, but has found herself allive and healthy in a place more beautiful than any artist can conjure up in there imagination:0)

::So there you have it, a bit of memory for each wonderful person. Yes, I shared with you only my good memories and positive points of each persons life, but thats the way I see fit to do it. There’s a time and a place to share the Ups and Downs of someones life…but in this case, only the Up’s are necessary. Thanks for reading this if you did…I hope it provokes you to appreciate someone in your life all the better.::

Be Blessed,
Kelsey

Breakfast

.:. So breakfast is the greatest meal of the day. Breakfast is your introduction to the day and how its going to go. If you wake up on the wrong side of the bed and you’re feeling like you want to whip someone with a car antenae if they look at you to long…why then you just brew some strong coffee (or tea in my case), put some eggs in the skillet with a little bacon and let the magic happen. Lifetime garuntee that a good breakfast can change your day. Lunch isn’t like that..no no. Lunch is the meal that kind of got jipped if you ask me. When lunch rolls around you’re either to busy to eat it, or you are to stressed to enjoy it. Whoever thought a break in the middle of the work day wasn’t stressful? Lunch is why fast food was invented. Nobody actually has time for this meal, but someone, somewhere decided one day that the human body couldn’t handle not having a noon-day snack-a-roo so they invented the lunch hour. Lunch, I’m sorry, is a horribly abused meal time; you sit there with your food checking your cell every 28 seconds to make sure you have enough time to finish your food. If lunch were a person, they would feel like they were on the worst date ever. … Dinner. Dinner is still on the fence for me. Dinner I think is a little used too really. Sometimes its used to bring a family together after a long day, they sit and feast on whatever’s placed in front of them so that they can share about each others day, life in general. Dinner can be used for good things. But Dinner can also be taken advantage of too. Dinner dates for instance: Dinner, in this case, is really just used as a bridge over to the ’second level’ of a date night. You don’t see a lot of people calling someone up and going, ‘hey, do you want to come on over and get the spark started?’ Nope. You hear a lot of, ‘hey, I was thinking I could take you out for a nice dinner at this quaint Italian joint I now down by the water, then maybe we could take a nice walk back to my flat or something..’ There you have it. Dinner. A bridge, not a meal. ‘Nuff said I think.

So you may be wondering why in the world I am spending any amount of time writing about the meals of the day and the relationship people have with them.

Thats okay, I’m wondering the same thing.

;0)

-kvandeway

The Land Before Time

.:. Let me set a little scene for you.:.

-Its 7:52 am on a Tuesday morning in June. The sky is overcast, the air has a light mist dancing its way hither and thither and a light breeze carries the scent of fresh, green earth right to my nose. I’m sitting on my porch this morning drinking my tea (big surprise) and eating Fig Newtons (big surprise #2); past the railing and through the lawn a bit is a really lovely garden that my family and I have planted this Spring. I see the three types of lettuce crips and green all in rows, I see the beans popping up their heart shaped leaves and the carrots with there lacey, whispy stems getting larger and larger as the days go by. In the Crab Apple tree to my left, I see it full with leaves and more excitingly, a Robin’s nest with her little birds chirping for food. Past the Crab Apple tree I glance at the pond with its dead tree half submerged and the green algey gracing the surface. Instead of finding that ugly, it makes me smile because this pond has been left to exist naturally, the way God intended it to be. The fish and insects are fed by the agley and the turtles sun themselves on the dead tree branches next to the Heron who’s taking his morning nap. Sometimes, things like that. looking for the positive purpose in a rugged scenario,  are a reminder for me to not judge people or situations based on the surface value. Digging a little deeper, finding out the whole story and giving the people room to be themselves generally give me a glance into a much lighter, more hopeful place. …Maybe that’s a bit to much insight for the morning time…

-It’s been an uncommonly busy week and a half for my family and I and I can’t count the amount of times that I’ve said, “I’m exhausted”. But, being exhausted or overwhelmed by so many people in town and at my house, has been absoultly worth it. I’ve been priviledged to listen to two of my cousins stories. Stories about heart ache, growth and living outside the main stream status quo lifestyle. Laying on a blanket in the sun talking about relationships past and relationships that have left a mark, talking about how much hope lies ahead for the broken hearted even when they only see what lies right in front of them; sitting on the porch comparing tattoo’s and talking about the pains of Freedom but the lifelong desire to embrace that very thing. If there is one thing I’m reminded of daily it’s this: no matter how ‘undiscovered’ being a Listener makes me feel sometimes, it will always be worth it when I walk away seeing that I was just entrusted with a personal piece of someones thoughts, emotions and story. That’s something I wouldn’t trade for anything.

-kvandeway