Peaches and Ice Cream and Homemade Bread

I don't want you to think everything was peaches and ice cream in our travels. I'm sure there were days that we didn't like each other very much - pinches and squabbles - that sort of thing. We had a lot of fun together, though. There was that time when all the noise and babbling got on Dad's one remaining nerve. He looked back and said, "Cut that out!" One of us had the impertinence to say, "Give us a scissors so we can cut it out!" Not a wise thing to say we quickly found out.

Our daughter gave us a sign to hang up in our house the other year.
                          REMEMBER  ...
              as far as everyone knows ....
            "We're a Nice Normal Family"

That describes the family God gave Ellis and me, and it also describes the family I grew up in. I think if we are all honest we could say we each come from a "dysfunctional" family. I just looked up a little blip that described what a dysfunctional family is. One of the signs can be perfectionism. Always trying to make the family appear perfect. That hits me square between the eyes. How many years did I try to make my house/life perfect and all the little people in my life as well? Not even mentioning trying to remake my husband ... and the sad task of making myself "good enough." If we could make ourselves perfect why did Jesus have to come to this earth and die for us? I'm thrilled beyond words to accept Jesus Christ's perfection for my life. His precious blood cleanses me from my sins. I am grateful.

To continue on to the mountains ... Dad and Mom were probably very thankful to finally say, "There, on the horizon, you can see the mountains!" We strained our eyes and looked and looked. We had no way of knowing what we were looking for being used to peat bogs and forests and potato fields in northern MN. The only mountains we ever saw were the Turtle Mountains in ND when we went to Bible Camp every summer.

Lake Louise  Banff National Park
Columbia Icefield  Somewhere we trekked out to touch an actual glacier.
Jasper National Park  and Mt Robson which I mentioned before. I've heard if you hanker to go to Switzerland to see the mountains - and can't go - drive to the Canadian Rockies and vacation there. I recommend it.

At last we came to Dunster BC, a tiny village with a school and a depot and train tracks. Maybe a store ... and a post office. A dirt road curved around and took us to our cousins' farm. When we pulled in to the lane we had no idea how often we'd be coming back to visit this family who were, at this moment, strangers to us.

Part of the reason it has taken me so long to arrive is because of all those visits. I don't know what memories are first. Did this event happen on our first trip?  or was that later when we went back for a wedding?

Or when we went back in the fall of 1973 and lived in BC for three months? We went to school in Dunster and made even more friends.

For now we had eight cousins to meet and a new aunt and uncle we barely remembered. To hear all the stories our parents and Lester and Norma shared we finally had to believe that once upon a time they were little people like us with adventures just like ours.

We landed on a working farm where chores went on as usual. I hope we didn't interfere too much with the daily schedule.  I remember picking huckleberries. There was food to make and dishes to wash after the meals. There was a darling baby, only six or seven months old. Cows to be milked twice a day. I think I should ask more questions and find out what my aunt and two cousins older than me remember. I don't even know how long our visit was that first summer.

Around this time I was learning to bake bread. Our recipe was for white bread at home. Now we learned all about whole wheat bread. Freshly ground whole wheat flour was used for bread making. The wheat had to be cleaned. A row of little ones sat at the table with Norma and Mom supervising.We each had a plate with a pile of wheat berries on it. Anything you didn't want to eat was separated from the good wheat. Weed seeds, parts of grasshoppers, etc. The clean wheat was ground in an electic grinder and then mixed into bread dough. There is nothing better than fresh whole wheat bread pulled out of the oven, sliced, spread with butter and honey and devoured. I tremble to think how many loaves of bread we consumed while we were visiting that week.

On that thought we will stop for now. I am leaving you to go bake some bread.