Grant County Journal
It takes more than courage
January 24, 2011
Written by Janet Warren
It takes courage to admit you have a problem with alcohol. To overcome that problem, however, takes more than courage. It takes turning yourself inside out and examining everything you were trying to cover up by drinking. The same thing goes for any other addiction that has brought you to the brink of despair. Courage may be the first step, but accepting the truth about yourself and sharing it with others is what keeps your feet moving one in front of the other.
I am reading a book entitled “Seven Wonders That Will Change Your Life,” co-written by Glenn Beck and Keith Ablow, M.D. No matter what you think about Beck’s political views, you have to admire the way he completely changed his life by admitting his alcohol and drug dependence and doing something about it. Dr. Ablow’s message boils down to this: “You can’t outdistance your past. The truth always wins. And you can be a far more powerful person the moment you embrace it.”
I met a woman this week who faced the truth and changed her life. Her name is Sally Johnson, and many of you who lived in Ephrata for the last 60 years know some of her story. Sally was raised by her aunt and uncle who were quite strict with her. She graduated a year early, at 16, from high school. By the time she was 20, she had a teaching certificate and a job. She taught English and Spanish in White Salmon, Washington. After a year, she decided she would never teach again until she was old and gray and in a wheelchair. She admitted she had quite a time disciplining those big country boys. Sally didn’t need to teach after that because she married Neil Johnson, who worked for his father’s successful business, and he wanted her to stay home.
Sally’s life sounds so normal for the 1950’s. Fast forward to recent history. Sally became friends with Paula VandenBos. One day while shopping in Paula’s store, Sally said quite loudly (probably more loudly than she intended since she has a significant hearing loss): “Paula, did you know I used to be the town drunk?” From that time on, Sally told bits and pieces of her story to Paula. So how does an intelligent girl with a good background get into so much trouble with her alcohol use? Paula encouraged Sally to write a book about it. Being encouraged to write a book and actually doing it are two different things, but Sally used the same fortitude that kept her sober for 33 years to write a book about it. It is called “Coming Back from Alcoholism” and is a short story about Sally’s life before, during, and after her “town drunk” days.
Sally and Neil started out socializing with a large crowd of drinkers. She never tried to cover up her drinking because it was socially acceptable. Both she and her husband were heavy drinkers, but they began to have marital problems in the early 1970’s and Sally’s alcohol use escalated along with her use of valium. Valium was so widely prescribed by doctors and used by housewives in the 60’s, the Rolling Stones even sang a song about it:
Kids are different today, I hear ev'ry mother say
Mother needs something today to calm her down
And though she's not really ill, there's a little yellow pill
She goes running for the shelter of a mother's little helper
And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day (1967).
Sally began having blackouts. Most nights she couldn’t remember how she got home. When she woke up in the mornings, she would look out her window to see if her car was there. If it wasn’t, she called her friend Jack at the wrecking yard, and he usually knew where she could find it. She admits she was a menace on the streets, and people would snicker about her escapades over the years. The Grant County Journal published a picture of her 1965 Mustang perched precariously on the bank of the West Canal. The State Patrol was investigating how that car got there. Sally couldn’t tell them, even though she was the one driving it. She didn’t even know how she got home that night. Finally, the City Attorney, Edward Allan, stopped turning a blind eye and gave Sally an ultimatum—either get into an alcohol treatment program or go to jail. When Sally told me this story she added, “I have been behind a lot of bars in my day, but never those kind!”
Getting into rehab was the beginning of a very long journey. Although, miraculously enough, she never drank again after her three weeks of treatment, the desire was still there. Her life had many downturns, yet she didn’t relapse. Glenn Beck said in his book, “When the president of the United States is mentioning you by name as an example of what is wrong with America, it’s hard not to start daydreaming about the deliciousness of Jack Daniels with a splash of Coke.” Sally may not have the same troubles as Beck, but she had plenty just as devastating to her. To this day, she speaks with fondness of her martinis and White Russians. She also knows she can never have one drink…ever. I asked her what kept her going all those years without turning to alcohol. She said simply, “I didn’t want my sons to be disappointed in me.”
Sally Johnson accepted the truth about herself 33 years ago. Now she tells the truth in her book. She dedicated the book to her friend, Paula VandenBos, who kept encouraging her to write it. There will be a book signing on Saturday, January 29th. Sally will be autographing copies from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. at VandenBos Jewelry and Fine Gifts, 61 Basin Street. As I told Sally when I first met her, “It takes a very courageous woman to write a book like this.” Thank you, Sally, for telling the truth.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Red and Purple--New Fall Colors
Grant County Journal
January 17, 2011
Red and Purple—New Fall Colors
Written by Janet Warren
When I was 35 and living in Colorado Springs, long before I ever had a notion I would one day be old, I bought a t-shirt imprinted with a poem by Jenny Joseph. It starts like this:
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
A few years later in Fullerton, California, Sue Ellen Cooper, gave a copy of Jenny Joseph’s poem, along with a vintage red hat to one of her friends, Linda Murphy, who was lamenting her “fifty-ish” birthday. Linda loved it so much, she gave a red hat and the poem to some more friends. On April 25, 1998, the friends decided to go out for tea dressed in purple dresses and red hats. Little did Sue Ellen know that something magical would happen. From the little tea that started out as a “playful reminder not to take aging too seriously,” grew The Red Hat Society, the largest international social organization for women.
Little did I know, when I bought my t-shirt, I would someday be living in Ephrata, Washington, talking to Em Corkins, the Queen of a chapter of The Red Hat Society. Em told me there are 70,000 chapters all over the world. Growing from a few friends in 1998, to a global organization less than 15 years later is nothing short of phenomenal.
When Em started her chapter in Ephrata in 2002, she contacted 32 businesswomen she had worked with. According to the Official Handbook for Queens, this is called gathering your court. Out of those potential court members, 20 joined Em’s chapter, Les Chapeaux Rouge. A spin-off chapter, The Sassy Hats, was started by Shannon Woodiwiss, the owner of Curves. Spin-Offs are encouraged by the Red Hat Society because it’s all about having fun and the Society nudges women with like interests to form a chapter. For example, most of the members in Les Chapeaux Rouge are retired and meet on the third Monday for lunch. The Sassy Hats are mostly still employed, so they meet on the first Saturday of the month for lunch. As Shannon said, “We don’t just say ‘let’s do lunch,’ we DO lunch.” And they do lunch dressed in their purple dresses and red hats. The members who haven’t reached the pivotal 50th birthday are called Pink Hatters and wear lavender dresses and pink hats. Shannon’s daughter, Krystal Ruiz, came into Curves while I was interviewing Shannon. I asked her if her mother ever embarrassed her with dressing up in red hats and purple dresses. Krystal’s answer was, “No she doesn’t embarrass me, but it wouldn’t matter if she did. She’d still do it.” Shannon’s reply to that? “It goes both ways.” Shannon loves to collect old hats, purses, scarves and jewelry. She says that dressing up makes her feel like she’s acting in a play.
Em has a vice-queen (not queen of vice) Laura Paulson. Em and Laura are very vivacious ladies who meet the criteria of Red Hat Society members, which is: “Hey, we’re not done yet.” There are very few rules in the Red Hat Society. In fact, they don’t have meetings, they have gatherings, get-togethers and events. Meetings are way too boring. Even their conventions are called Funventions. The Red Hat Society holds Funventions all over, the next big one being in New Orleans.
Only women are allowed to become members of the Red Hat Society. There is a reason for this. The whole idea behind being a Red Hatter is to have fun, be silly, and giggle. As Em said, “Bring even one man into the group and it changes the attitude. Makes it more reserved.” I get that. Most men would prefer not to be there anyway, and are happy their wives have an outlet for girl things.
Em told me about another chapter, Grant County Red Hatters. Lucille Moore is the Queen of that chapter. Think about this. Three chapters just in Ephrata. As my age has transposed from 35 to 53, I understand why women gravitate to these kinds of groups. Society tries to tell us we are old, but we know better. We are just coming into ourselves. We aren’t shy about the things that embarrassed us in our youth. We want to experience things we may not have been able to do while we were raising families.
Recently, Mike and I were sitting in the Seattle airport waiting for our flight when I struck up a conversation with two ladies traveling together. They had on red and purple regalia, so I knew they were Red Hatters. These women were in their 80’s, widowed, and not content to sit in their rockers. They were traveling to a Funvention. I said to Mike, “that’s the kind of old lady I want to be.” Of course, my smart-aleck husband said, “What? Widowed? Using my retirement money to travel?” But you women out there get it, don’t you? We know what the Welsh poet, Dylan Thomas, meant when he penned: Do not go gentle into that good night. We want to feel like we’ve lived, and had some fun doing it.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
January 17, 2011
Red and Purple—New Fall Colors
Written by Janet Warren
When I was 35 and living in Colorado Springs, long before I ever had a notion I would one day be old, I bought a t-shirt imprinted with a poem by Jenny Joseph. It starts like this:
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
A few years later in Fullerton, California, Sue Ellen Cooper, gave a copy of Jenny Joseph’s poem, along with a vintage red hat to one of her friends, Linda Murphy, who was lamenting her “fifty-ish” birthday. Linda loved it so much, she gave a red hat and the poem to some more friends. On April 25, 1998, the friends decided to go out for tea dressed in purple dresses and red hats. Little did Sue Ellen know that something magical would happen. From the little tea that started out as a “playful reminder not to take aging too seriously,” grew The Red Hat Society, the largest international social organization for women.
Little did I know, when I bought my t-shirt, I would someday be living in Ephrata, Washington, talking to Em Corkins, the Queen of a chapter of The Red Hat Society. Em told me there are 70,000 chapters all over the world. Growing from a few friends in 1998, to a global organization less than 15 years later is nothing short of phenomenal.
When Em started her chapter in Ephrata in 2002, she contacted 32 businesswomen she had worked with. According to the Official Handbook for Queens, this is called gathering your court. Out of those potential court members, 20 joined Em’s chapter, Les Chapeaux Rouge. A spin-off chapter, The Sassy Hats, was started by Shannon Woodiwiss, the owner of Curves. Spin-Offs are encouraged by the Red Hat Society because it’s all about having fun and the Society nudges women with like interests to form a chapter. For example, most of the members in Les Chapeaux Rouge are retired and meet on the third Monday for lunch. The Sassy Hats are mostly still employed, so they meet on the first Saturday of the month for lunch. As Shannon said, “We don’t just say ‘let’s do lunch,’ we DO lunch.” And they do lunch dressed in their purple dresses and red hats. The members who haven’t reached the pivotal 50th birthday are called Pink Hatters and wear lavender dresses and pink hats. Shannon’s daughter, Krystal Ruiz, came into Curves while I was interviewing Shannon. I asked her if her mother ever embarrassed her with dressing up in red hats and purple dresses. Krystal’s answer was, “No she doesn’t embarrass me, but it wouldn’t matter if she did. She’d still do it.” Shannon’s reply to that? “It goes both ways.” Shannon loves to collect old hats, purses, scarves and jewelry. She says that dressing up makes her feel like she’s acting in a play.
Em has a vice-queen (not queen of vice) Laura Paulson. Em and Laura are very vivacious ladies who meet the criteria of Red Hat Society members, which is: “Hey, we’re not done yet.” There are very few rules in the Red Hat Society. In fact, they don’t have meetings, they have gatherings, get-togethers and events. Meetings are way too boring. Even their conventions are called Funventions. The Red Hat Society holds Funventions all over, the next big one being in New Orleans.
Only women are allowed to become members of the Red Hat Society. There is a reason for this. The whole idea behind being a Red Hatter is to have fun, be silly, and giggle. As Em said, “Bring even one man into the group and it changes the attitude. Makes it more reserved.” I get that. Most men would prefer not to be there anyway, and are happy their wives have an outlet for girl things.
Em told me about another chapter, Grant County Red Hatters. Lucille Moore is the Queen of that chapter. Think about this. Three chapters just in Ephrata. As my age has transposed from 35 to 53, I understand why women gravitate to these kinds of groups. Society tries to tell us we are old, but we know better. We are just coming into ourselves. We aren’t shy about the things that embarrassed us in our youth. We want to experience things we may not have been able to do while we were raising families.
Recently, Mike and I were sitting in the Seattle airport waiting for our flight when I struck up a conversation with two ladies traveling together. They had on red and purple regalia, so I knew they were Red Hatters. These women were in their 80’s, widowed, and not content to sit in their rockers. They were traveling to a Funvention. I said to Mike, “that’s the kind of old lady I want to be.” Of course, my smart-aleck husband said, “What? Widowed? Using my retirement money to travel?” But you women out there get it, don’t you? We know what the Welsh poet, Dylan Thomas, meant when he penned: Do not go gentle into that good night. We want to feel like we’ve lived, and had some fun doing it.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Fables in Other Languages
Grant County Journal
Fables in Other Languages
January 10, 2001
Written by Janet Warren
Sometimes I get a 6 a.m. call from a creepy guy that Ephrata School District hired this year. It’s really a computer system called Aesop (Automated Educational Substitute Operator). He has been hung up on more than once from would-be substitutes thinking he was a telemarketer. For years, DeDe Vernon, who works at Grant, made all the phone calls trying to fill the substitute positions. She still needs to fill in the blanks where Aesop fails, since it is easier to say “no” to a computer than to a nice person like DeDe, but Aesop has taken over much of her responsibility.
Last year I substituted only for paraprofessionals, so I was in the classroom with some of the teachers in the district. I wanted to get to know the schools and what was expected before I used my emergency substitute license. An emergency sub is basically someone who has at least a bachelor’s degree but no formal teacher training. We get called if none of the real teachers are available. My first full-day teacher sub job was Mrs. Jones’ first grade class at Grant. Everything went pretty well. Teachers almost always leave detailed substitute plans and Mrs. Jones was no exception. Unexpectedly, two of the volunteers didn’t show up during the reading portion which caused some classroom management issues. One little girl, at the end of the morning, threw her arms around me and told me I was the best teacher ever. I’ve raised five children and been around the block a time or two, so I realize this translates to “You let me do things my real teacher never would have let me do.”
The last 10 minutes of class was chaotic. For some reason, I thought they would all line up after getting their backpacks ready. In hindsight, I realize how naïve I was to think 24 first graders would actually listen to me as I called out who was supposed to leave for the bus. Those last 10 minutes of a relatively successful day gave me a raging headache. After the kids were gone, I talked to the teachers in the hall expressing my dismay. Mrs. McNeill asked me how the rest of the day went. “Well, I followed the lesson plans, the kids worked and had some fun, and no one got hurt,” I said. Mrs. McNeill then gave me the best advice I have ever gotten in my substitute teaching career: “Then you were successful. It doesn’t matter how YOU feel at the end of the day.”
I have been amazed that this small town has attracted and retained such excellent teachers. Linda Hutchins is a great English teacher. I have a degree in English, but didn’t learn some of the things she teaches until I was in college. I was in Greg Hanberg’s history class last week and was caught up in his teaching methods. On the board he had written, “Are you thinking and linking, or are you blinking?” I don’t know if that is an original saying of his, but it was his method of teaching. He linked information about the Incas to other things the kids could relate to. Last year I was in Gary Klepec’s kindergarten class. He was kind, yet firm with the children. He is someone I would have liked to teach my children. I was impressed with Mrs. Carvo’s way of keeping her class on task. I never heard her raise her voice or get angry. She just stopped and waited for the class to respond. Any of you parents who have children in special needs at Grant are lucky to have Judy and Jeff and the paraprofessionals. That is a demanding job, both emotionally and physically, and your kids really matter to them.
Last week I spent the day in one of my favorite places, the skill lab at Ephrata Middle School. Sigrid Vira is the teacher and she has two paraprofessionals—Becky Lnenicka and Jim McNeill. I like that the groups are small, sometimes one-on-one, and there are some great kids. The purpose of the lab is to fill in some gaps that may have occurred up to this point. Mrs. Vira has been teaching special needs for years, starting at the high school, moving to Parkway and then five years ago beginning the program at the middle school. She is knowledgeable, but I also like her laid-back attitude that makes the room a comfortable place to be.
Jim McNeill was a sergeant with the Ephrata Police Department until he retired five years ago. His wife, Donna, is the teacher who gave me advice at Grant. Only recently, I made the connection those two are married. His wife encouraged him to apply for the paraprofessional job when it was posted, and it has been a great second career for him. When I asked how long he had between jobs, he said, “My wife let me have 27 days of vacation before I started.” What a lucky man. Mike only got 14 days between retiring from the State Patrol and taking over as police chief here. Since I was substituting for Becky, I didn’t get a chance to talk to her specifically for this column, but I have worked with her before and she is great with the kids. She is calm and organized and it is clear the students like her. The only part of her job that I don’t particularly like is the 40 minutes she has to be outside in the morning before school. It’s not bad in good weather, but kind of miserable when the temperatures start dipping.
I don’t substitute that much because I am out of town a lot. There are many teachers I have never met, but I am fairly intuitive and can tell a lot by the way the schools feel. Mike has been similarly impressed working with the administration of each school. Teaching is a tough job. The rules and regulations continue to increase along with class size. The money continues to decrease. If you are tempted to complain about your child’s teacher, you should volunteer. In fact, volunteer in a class where your child isn’t so you can be objective. Or try herding 24 first graders down the hall, keeping them quiet while walking in a straight line. You will never complain again.
Fables in Other Languages
January 10, 2001
Written by Janet Warren
Sometimes I get a 6 a.m. call from a creepy guy that Ephrata School District hired this year. It’s really a computer system called Aesop (Automated Educational Substitute Operator). He has been hung up on more than once from would-be substitutes thinking he was a telemarketer. For years, DeDe Vernon, who works at Grant, made all the phone calls trying to fill the substitute positions. She still needs to fill in the blanks where Aesop fails, since it is easier to say “no” to a computer than to a nice person like DeDe, but Aesop has taken over much of her responsibility.
Last year I substituted only for paraprofessionals, so I was in the classroom with some of the teachers in the district. I wanted to get to know the schools and what was expected before I used my emergency substitute license. An emergency sub is basically someone who has at least a bachelor’s degree but no formal teacher training. We get called if none of the real teachers are available. My first full-day teacher sub job was Mrs. Jones’ first grade class at Grant. Everything went pretty well. Teachers almost always leave detailed substitute plans and Mrs. Jones was no exception. Unexpectedly, two of the volunteers didn’t show up during the reading portion which caused some classroom management issues. One little girl, at the end of the morning, threw her arms around me and told me I was the best teacher ever. I’ve raised five children and been around the block a time or two, so I realize this translates to “You let me do things my real teacher never would have let me do.”
The last 10 minutes of class was chaotic. For some reason, I thought they would all line up after getting their backpacks ready. In hindsight, I realize how naïve I was to think 24 first graders would actually listen to me as I called out who was supposed to leave for the bus. Those last 10 minutes of a relatively successful day gave me a raging headache. After the kids were gone, I talked to the teachers in the hall expressing my dismay. Mrs. McNeill asked me how the rest of the day went. “Well, I followed the lesson plans, the kids worked and had some fun, and no one got hurt,” I said. Mrs. McNeill then gave me the best advice I have ever gotten in my substitute teaching career: “Then you were successful. It doesn’t matter how YOU feel at the end of the day.”
I have been amazed that this small town has attracted and retained such excellent teachers. Linda Hutchins is a great English teacher. I have a degree in English, but didn’t learn some of the things she teaches until I was in college. I was in Greg Hanberg’s history class last week and was caught up in his teaching methods. On the board he had written, “Are you thinking and linking, or are you blinking?” I don’t know if that is an original saying of his, but it was his method of teaching. He linked information about the Incas to other things the kids could relate to. Last year I was in Gary Klepec’s kindergarten class. He was kind, yet firm with the children. He is someone I would have liked to teach my children. I was impressed with Mrs. Carvo’s way of keeping her class on task. I never heard her raise her voice or get angry. She just stopped and waited for the class to respond. Any of you parents who have children in special needs at Grant are lucky to have Judy and Jeff and the paraprofessionals. That is a demanding job, both emotionally and physically, and your kids really matter to them.
Last week I spent the day in one of my favorite places, the skill lab at Ephrata Middle School. Sigrid Vira is the teacher and she has two paraprofessionals—Becky Lnenicka and Jim McNeill. I like that the groups are small, sometimes one-on-one, and there are some great kids. The purpose of the lab is to fill in some gaps that may have occurred up to this point. Mrs. Vira has been teaching special needs for years, starting at the high school, moving to Parkway and then five years ago beginning the program at the middle school. She is knowledgeable, but I also like her laid-back attitude that makes the room a comfortable place to be.
Jim McNeill was a sergeant with the Ephrata Police Department until he retired five years ago. His wife, Donna, is the teacher who gave me advice at Grant. Only recently, I made the connection those two are married. His wife encouraged him to apply for the paraprofessional job when it was posted, and it has been a great second career for him. When I asked how long he had between jobs, he said, “My wife let me have 27 days of vacation before I started.” What a lucky man. Mike only got 14 days between retiring from the State Patrol and taking over as police chief here. Since I was substituting for Becky, I didn’t get a chance to talk to her specifically for this column, but I have worked with her before and she is great with the kids. She is calm and organized and it is clear the students like her. The only part of her job that I don’t particularly like is the 40 minutes she has to be outside in the morning before school. It’s not bad in good weather, but kind of miserable when the temperatures start dipping.
I don’t substitute that much because I am out of town a lot. There are many teachers I have never met, but I am fairly intuitive and can tell a lot by the way the schools feel. Mike has been similarly impressed working with the administration of each school. Teaching is a tough job. The rules and regulations continue to increase along with class size. The money continues to decrease. If you are tempted to complain about your child’s teacher, you should volunteer. In fact, volunteer in a class where your child isn’t so you can be objective. Or try herding 24 first graders down the hall, keeping them quiet while walking in a straight line. You will never complain again.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Keep on keepin' on
Grant County Journal
January 3, 2011
Keep on keepin’ on
Written by Janet Warren
So what’s the big deal about ringing in a new year? As Mark Twain said: “Now is the accepted time to make your regular good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.” Ah, Mark Twain…gotta love him.
I always make New Year’s resolutions. And I always break New Year’s resolutions, so I suppose I should be as cynical about them as Mark Twain. There were a few years I wondered why I bothered making resolutions when I knew I’d most likely break them. My goals weren’t too different than everybody else’s. The top ten resolutions in the United States are:
1. Spend more time with family and friends.
2. Fit in fitness.
3. Tame the bulge.
4. Quit smoking.
5. Enjoy life more.
6. Quit drinking.
7. Get out of debt.
8. Learn something new.
9. Help others.
10. Get organized.
Since I’m not a smoker or drinker, #4 and #6 have never been on my resolution list, but all the others have. Over the years I’ve found that every one of the resolutions listed is a recipe for failure because they aren’t specific enough. Any time I began a diet on New Year’s Day, it was broken by New Year’s Night. I might be really good about following a budget for a couple of months, but then I’d make an impulse purchase. Once I broke my resolution, I’d say, “Oh well, yet another resolution bites the dust.” It was discouraging until one year I made a discovery. I had to use writer’s tools to rewrite my resolution list. That meant picking it apart, bit by bit, and looking at what I expected from life in a new way in order to figure out how to get what and where I wanted. It meant being kinder and more realistic with myself. Here’s the resolution I made years ago that has made all the difference in my life. When I break any of my New Year’s resolutions, I begin again the next day. It’s not all or nothing for me anymore. The difference now is that what begins on January 1st as a resolution, becomes a long-term goal the day I start again. I have to keep trying because it’s when we stop trying that we begin a downward decline. We never stay the same.
A close friend of mine stopped smoking when she found out she was pregnant. The day she stopped nursing her baby was the day she began smoking again. As a non-smoker, I found that so puzzling. Why would anyone go back to it when they had been off it for over a year? Now I look at it in a different way. I see the year she was not a smoker and all the good that it did her and her baby. Two subsequent efforts to quit gave her another eight months of not smoking. Her baby is now twelve years old, and because of her last effort, she is going on two years of being a non-smoker. I could not be more proud of her. I don’t look at her attempts to stop smoking as failures, but as victories, regardless of how long they lasted.
I have a love/hate relationship with Diet Coke. I have tried many times to stop drinking it, but my attempts don’t last long. Anybody who has ever withdrawn from a caffeine addiction can tell you about the headache. Since I only drink caffeine cold, Diet Coke and oatmeal is my breakfast of champions. It’s a vicious cycle: When I go without caffeine in the afternoon, I crash, but if I drink Diet Coke past 1 p.m., I can’t sleep at night. On Thanksgiving while we were in Arizona, I mentioned to three of my children that I was going to go off it again for my New Year’s Resolution #1. Immediately, both of my sons said, “Mom, you are never going to stop drinking Diet Coke.” Ah, fellas …really? Them are fightin’ words. I started the withdrawal process as soon as I got home, and I have been Diet Coke-free for three weeks. One of my sons bet me $100 I couldn’t stay off it for the entire year. I’ll expect payment in 2012, buddy, and I want cash.
As Ellen Goodman said, “We spend January walking through our lives room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives…not looking for flaws, but for potential.”
This year I am going to start writing my book. Now that’s something that has never made my top ten resolution list. I’ve always wanted to write a book. I have an idea and encouragement from two of my writing professors, but there has always been a missing element. Discipline. Writing is hard work and the easier writing is to read, the harder the writer worked to make that happen. Take Theodor Geisel. You probably remember him as Dr. Seuss. He locked himself in his tower at his home and worked at writing at least eight hours a day. So my resolution this year is not to write the Great American Novel, but to show up at the computer every day to write. As John Updike said, "Try to develop actual work habits, and even though you have a busy life, try to reserve an hour say--or more--a day to write. Some very good things have been written on an hour a day. . . .”
I have a few resolutions on my list to patch up some cracks, too. Sorry, Mr. Twain, but I have to go with Benjamin Franklin on this one: “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better [wo]man.”
January 3, 2011
Keep on keepin’ on
Written by Janet Warren
So what’s the big deal about ringing in a new year? As Mark Twain said: “Now is the accepted time to make your regular good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.” Ah, Mark Twain…gotta love him.
I always make New Year’s resolutions. And I always break New Year’s resolutions, so I suppose I should be as cynical about them as Mark Twain. There were a few years I wondered why I bothered making resolutions when I knew I’d most likely break them. My goals weren’t too different than everybody else’s. The top ten resolutions in the United States are:
1. Spend more time with family and friends.
2. Fit in fitness.
3. Tame the bulge.
4. Quit smoking.
5. Enjoy life more.
6. Quit drinking.
7. Get out of debt.
8. Learn something new.
9. Help others.
10. Get organized.
Since I’m not a smoker or drinker, #4 and #6 have never been on my resolution list, but all the others have. Over the years I’ve found that every one of the resolutions listed is a recipe for failure because they aren’t specific enough. Any time I began a diet on New Year’s Day, it was broken by New Year’s Night. I might be really good about following a budget for a couple of months, but then I’d make an impulse purchase. Once I broke my resolution, I’d say, “Oh well, yet another resolution bites the dust.” It was discouraging until one year I made a discovery. I had to use writer’s tools to rewrite my resolution list. That meant picking it apart, bit by bit, and looking at what I expected from life in a new way in order to figure out how to get what and where I wanted. It meant being kinder and more realistic with myself. Here’s the resolution I made years ago that has made all the difference in my life. When I break any of my New Year’s resolutions, I begin again the next day. It’s not all or nothing for me anymore. The difference now is that what begins on January 1st as a resolution, becomes a long-term goal the day I start again. I have to keep trying because it’s when we stop trying that we begin a downward decline. We never stay the same.
A close friend of mine stopped smoking when she found out she was pregnant. The day she stopped nursing her baby was the day she began smoking again. As a non-smoker, I found that so puzzling. Why would anyone go back to it when they had been off it for over a year? Now I look at it in a different way. I see the year she was not a smoker and all the good that it did her and her baby. Two subsequent efforts to quit gave her another eight months of not smoking. Her baby is now twelve years old, and because of her last effort, she is going on two years of being a non-smoker. I could not be more proud of her. I don’t look at her attempts to stop smoking as failures, but as victories, regardless of how long they lasted.
I have a love/hate relationship with Diet Coke. I have tried many times to stop drinking it, but my attempts don’t last long. Anybody who has ever withdrawn from a caffeine addiction can tell you about the headache. Since I only drink caffeine cold, Diet Coke and oatmeal is my breakfast of champions. It’s a vicious cycle: When I go without caffeine in the afternoon, I crash, but if I drink Diet Coke past 1 p.m., I can’t sleep at night. On Thanksgiving while we were in Arizona, I mentioned to three of my children that I was going to go off it again for my New Year’s Resolution #1. Immediately, both of my sons said, “Mom, you are never going to stop drinking Diet Coke.” Ah, fellas …really? Them are fightin’ words. I started the withdrawal process as soon as I got home, and I have been Diet Coke-free for three weeks. One of my sons bet me $100 I couldn’t stay off it for the entire year. I’ll expect payment in 2012, buddy, and I want cash.
As Ellen Goodman said, “We spend January walking through our lives room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives…not looking for flaws, but for potential.”
This year I am going to start writing my book. Now that’s something that has never made my top ten resolution list. I’ve always wanted to write a book. I have an idea and encouragement from two of my writing professors, but there has always been a missing element. Discipline. Writing is hard work and the easier writing is to read, the harder the writer worked to make that happen. Take Theodor Geisel. You probably remember him as Dr. Seuss. He locked himself in his tower at his home and worked at writing at least eight hours a day. So my resolution this year is not to write the Great American Novel, but to show up at the computer every day to write. As John Updike said, "Try to develop actual work habits, and even though you have a busy life, try to reserve an hour say--or more--a day to write. Some very good things have been written on an hour a day. . . .”
I have a few resolutions on my list to patch up some cracks, too. Sorry, Mr. Twain, but I have to go with Benjamin Franklin on this one: “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better [wo]man.”
Monday, December 27, 2010
Partridges and Glittery Things
Grant County Journal
December 27, 2010
Partridges and glittery things
Written by Janet Warren
I’ll bet you thought Christmas was over. Wrong. The Twelve Days of Christmas actually started the evening of December 25th and ends on the Eve of Epiphany, January 5. We have another week and a half to go (although my decorations usually come down before then). So settle down for a long winter’s nap while I tell you about partridges in pear trees.
One year my kids and I did the “12 Days of Christmas” for their grandparents. We started 12 days before Christmas, but now I find out I had the timing wrong. Regardless, the grandparents had a fun time opening their door to a small gift or plate of goodies each evening after we rang the doorbell and ran. We found out later that their assisted living residence had cameras on the front gate and they saw our van driving away each night on their television. They were good sports, though, and didn’t let on. The only gifts I remember were the “two turtle doves” where we left a couple of Dove Bars and the “four calling birds” where we left a beautiful book of birds.
All these years later, I find myself interested in the origin of things. Perhaps it’s because the internet makes it so easy to do research. Or maybe it is because history brings on new meaning once you get to the age where you actually lived through some of the things they are now teaching the kids in history class. As always, I will put in a disclaimer on research on the internet; there is a lot of conflicting information. The only thing we know for sure is that “calling birds” were originally “colly or collie birds,” which are blackbirds. There are many variations on the origins of the song Partridge in a Pear Tree, one of them that it was a mnemonic (device to aid in memory) to teach a secret catechism during the years of the religious wars in the 16th century. My true love being God and the partridge being Jesus, the pear tree the cross. Snopes.com debunks this theory as a myth, but the truth is no one really knows where the song came from. I always thought it was a nonsensical song with a catchy tune. Which, of course, might be all that it is.
Since I’m dabbling in some Christmas trivia here, do you know where eggnog originated? That seems to be sketchy too. Kitchenproject.com has a couple of ideas which seem as good as any. Eggnog is first mentioned in the early part of the 17th century as a drink to toast one’s health. Rum was commonly referred to as grog in Colonial America, so eggnog could be a shortened version of egg ‘n grog. Or perhaps the name comes from a small wooden carved mug called a noggin. Egg ‘n grog in a noggin. Try saying that after a few cups of the stuff. George Washington had his own recipe for eggnog made with rye whiskey, rum, and sherry “reputed to be a stiff drink that only the most courageous were willing to try.” The popular version in my family was a virgin eggnog, which gave way to the store-bought eggnog because the eggs were pasteurized. I stopped drinking it altogether when I figured I didn’t need any more help to raise my cholesterol. Mike never even tasted eggnog until this year when I needed a cup to use in a recipe. There were three cups left in the quart I bought, so I poured him a noggin. He wasn’t impressed, which is good because your 50’s is no time to develop a taste for artery-clogging beverages.
This week I am doing all the things I postponed until after Christmas. Mike and I traveled to Colorado to see my daughter, Jodie, graduate from University of Colorado on December 17th. We were only gone for three days, but it kind of threw off my momentum. I didn’t plan a lot of activities for Christmas, and I must say it was the most relaxing week before Christmas I have ever had. I was able to get in a little reading, watch a couple of Hallmark Christmas specials (sappy and predictable, but I admit I got a little teary-eyed), and I forced Mike to sit down and watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” on Christmas Eve. He loves Jimmy Stewart, so I didn’t have to twist his arm too hard.
If you’ve seen the TV commercials this season, this next story will make you laugh. My friend Janice in Albuquerque has taught second grade for over 25 years. Janice wrote: “Funny story. This is why I love being a teacher! Please read on: A little boy in my class brought in a gift for me. I proceeded to open it. Inside was a piece of costume jewelry in the shape of a snowflake and very glittery. A little girl who was watching squealed, ‘He went to Jared!’" Can’t you just see that as a commercial for Jared Galleria of Jewelry? By the way, Jared’s isn’t near as nice as Harrison’s Jewelers right here in Ephrata. They have a lot of glittery things too. Hint, hint, Mike…we do have an anniversary coming up in January.
This column has turned out a lot like my week—random things popping up. It’s good to have a week like that sometimes. It does come around full circle, however, because whenever I am ticking off a list of unrelated items, I usually add “and a partridge in a pear tree” no matter what time of year it is. Next week we’ll get back to business since it is time for New Year’s resolutions…just sayin’.
I hope Christmas was everything you and your family wanted it to be this year. Talk to you next year!
December 27, 2010
Partridges and glittery things
Written by Janet Warren
I’ll bet you thought Christmas was over. Wrong. The Twelve Days of Christmas actually started the evening of December 25th and ends on the Eve of Epiphany, January 5. We have another week and a half to go (although my decorations usually come down before then). So settle down for a long winter’s nap while I tell you about partridges in pear trees.
One year my kids and I did the “12 Days of Christmas” for their grandparents. We started 12 days before Christmas, but now I find out I had the timing wrong. Regardless, the grandparents had a fun time opening their door to a small gift or plate of goodies each evening after we rang the doorbell and ran. We found out later that their assisted living residence had cameras on the front gate and they saw our van driving away each night on their television. They were good sports, though, and didn’t let on. The only gifts I remember were the “two turtle doves” where we left a couple of Dove Bars and the “four calling birds” where we left a beautiful book of birds.
All these years later, I find myself interested in the origin of things. Perhaps it’s because the internet makes it so easy to do research. Or maybe it is because history brings on new meaning once you get to the age where you actually lived through some of the things they are now teaching the kids in history class. As always, I will put in a disclaimer on research on the internet; there is a lot of conflicting information. The only thing we know for sure is that “calling birds” were originally “colly or collie birds,” which are blackbirds. There are many variations on the origins of the song Partridge in a Pear Tree, one of them that it was a mnemonic (device to aid in memory) to teach a secret catechism during the years of the religious wars in the 16th century. My true love being God and the partridge being Jesus, the pear tree the cross. Snopes.com debunks this theory as a myth, but the truth is no one really knows where the song came from. I always thought it was a nonsensical song with a catchy tune. Which, of course, might be all that it is.
Since I’m dabbling in some Christmas trivia here, do you know where eggnog originated? That seems to be sketchy too. Kitchenproject.com has a couple of ideas which seem as good as any. Eggnog is first mentioned in the early part of the 17th century as a drink to toast one’s health. Rum was commonly referred to as grog in Colonial America, so eggnog could be a shortened version of egg ‘n grog. Or perhaps the name comes from a small wooden carved mug called a noggin. Egg ‘n grog in a noggin. Try saying that after a few cups of the stuff. George Washington had his own recipe for eggnog made with rye whiskey, rum, and sherry “reputed to be a stiff drink that only the most courageous were willing to try.” The popular version in my family was a virgin eggnog, which gave way to the store-bought eggnog because the eggs were pasteurized. I stopped drinking it altogether when I figured I didn’t need any more help to raise my cholesterol. Mike never even tasted eggnog until this year when I needed a cup to use in a recipe. There were three cups left in the quart I bought, so I poured him a noggin. He wasn’t impressed, which is good because your 50’s is no time to develop a taste for artery-clogging beverages.
This week I am doing all the things I postponed until after Christmas. Mike and I traveled to Colorado to see my daughter, Jodie, graduate from University of Colorado on December 17th. We were only gone for three days, but it kind of threw off my momentum. I didn’t plan a lot of activities for Christmas, and I must say it was the most relaxing week before Christmas I have ever had. I was able to get in a little reading, watch a couple of Hallmark Christmas specials (sappy and predictable, but I admit I got a little teary-eyed), and I forced Mike to sit down and watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” on Christmas Eve. He loves Jimmy Stewart, so I didn’t have to twist his arm too hard.
If you’ve seen the TV commercials this season, this next story will make you laugh. My friend Janice in Albuquerque has taught second grade for over 25 years. Janice wrote: “Funny story. This is why I love being a teacher! Please read on: A little boy in my class brought in a gift for me. I proceeded to open it. Inside was a piece of costume jewelry in the shape of a snowflake and very glittery. A little girl who was watching squealed, ‘He went to Jared!’" Can’t you just see that as a commercial for Jared Galleria of Jewelry? By the way, Jared’s isn’t near as nice as Harrison’s Jewelers right here in Ephrata. They have a lot of glittery things too. Hint, hint, Mike…we do have an anniversary coming up in January.
This column has turned out a lot like my week—random things popping up. It’s good to have a week like that sometimes. It does come around full circle, however, because whenever I am ticking off a list of unrelated items, I usually add “and a partridge in a pear tree” no matter what time of year it is. Next week we’ll get back to business since it is time for New Year’s resolutions…just sayin’.
I hope Christmas was everything you and your family wanted it to be this year. Talk to you next year!
Monday, December 20, 2010
I Believe--Powerful Words
Grant County Journal
December 20, 2010
I Believe—Powerful Words
Written by Janet Warren
There comes a time in everyone’s life when what they believe needs to be put into words. These words may never be spoken out loud, but they are expressed by the way we live our lives. I wonder sometimes what people will say at my funeral. What if one of my children gives my eulogy? I can tell you what I hope will be said. I hope Jenni will say that I was there for her. I hope Jodie will say that I accepted her. I hope Jon will say I encouraged him. I hope James will say that I prayed for him. And I hope Jeffrey will say I did my best. I also hope Mindi and Jeff will say I was a good wife to their father and that I loved him. But most of all, I hope all of them say that they know I loved them with all of my heart. I also hope they say I believed in Jesus Christ of the New Testament and that I did not think the Bible was a “Christian myth” as one of my professors once called it.
A few months ago, I got the official population of Ephrata from Leslie Trachsler at City Hall.
At that time it was 7,110. I know Logan and Audrey Nelson had a baby since then, so it’s at least 7,111. I had to go to the internet to get information on religion. I found out that 40.66 percent of the people in Ephrata are affiliated with a religion. Using my mad math skills, I came up with 2,891 people who belong to a religion. I have to deduce that those 2,891 people are Christian because those are the only religions listed in the yellow pages. This doesn’t take into account the people who believe in Christ but are not affiliated with an organized religion. For my purposes, however, we have a lot of Christians in Ephrata, which is why I am going to talk about Mary. Can you follow my logic? That’s okay…Mike can’t either.
While I was raising my family, I tried to stay focused on why we celebrate Christmas. I admit that some years I did better than others. When James was about 4 years old we were in a craft store in Colorado Springs. There was a life-size statue of Santa Claus that James rushed up to and exclaimed loudly: “Jesus!” I was always thankful he didn’t point to pictures of Jesus at church and shout “Santa Claus!”
I explained the symbols of Christmas to my children. The candy canes we always put on the tree represented the crooks of the shepherds who were among the first to know of the birth of the Christ child. The star on top of the tree reminds us of the sign shown in the heavens that first Christmas Eve. The lights remind us that He is the Light of the World. The evergreen is the symbol of life. We give gifts to each other to remind us of the gift our Savior gave us through His atonement for our sins.
I find myself contemplating Mary’s point of view when I read the Christmas story in Luke. I should have talked to my children more about that. I don’t think she complained as she was riding on a donkey while in labor, but I believe she may have been frightened about not knowing what to expect. My daughter, Jodie, came very close to being born in the parking lot of Providence Hospital in Anchorage. Had it not been for some alert nurses, we may have had to pick gravel out of her thick head of hair. There were no nurses to rescue Mary, but I wonder if angels attended her. Even though it was not customary for the time, did Joseph wipe her brow and offer encouragement to her? Jesus was born in a manger, probably more like a cave than a wooden structure, but I don’t believe it was an accident. The conditions were dark and dirty and smelly, but there was no room at the inn because He was meant to be born in lowly surroundings. His ministry was among the poor, the sick, and the humble. He was born to heal broken hearts and to give hope to a weary world.
This Christmas I was at a program where the song Mary, Did you Know? was performed.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God.
The blind will see, the deaf will hear and the dead will live again.
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the praises of the Lamb.
Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding is the great I Am. (Lyrics by Mark Lowry)
Mary was told by an angel that she would bear the Son of God, but I believe she had to learn what that meant little by little. After the birth of Christ was proclaimed to the shepherds, they told everyone they met about it. “And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2: 17-19).
This is how all of us figure out what it is we believe in, little by little, and by taking small moments of stillness to ponder. My beliefs will be added onto as I grow older, and I hope by the time my eulogy is written the main theme of it will be that I believe in Christ. I Believe. Powerful, life-affirming words.
May the power of this Christmas season heal your heart and bring you joy.
December 20, 2010
I Believe—Powerful Words
Written by Janet Warren
There comes a time in everyone’s life when what they believe needs to be put into words. These words may never be spoken out loud, but they are expressed by the way we live our lives. I wonder sometimes what people will say at my funeral. What if one of my children gives my eulogy? I can tell you what I hope will be said. I hope Jenni will say that I was there for her. I hope Jodie will say that I accepted her. I hope Jon will say I encouraged him. I hope James will say that I prayed for him. And I hope Jeffrey will say I did my best. I also hope Mindi and Jeff will say I was a good wife to their father and that I loved him. But most of all, I hope all of them say that they know I loved them with all of my heart. I also hope they say I believed in Jesus Christ of the New Testament and that I did not think the Bible was a “Christian myth” as one of my professors once called it.
A few months ago, I got the official population of Ephrata from Leslie Trachsler at City Hall.
At that time it was 7,110. I know Logan and Audrey Nelson had a baby since then, so it’s at least 7,111. I had to go to the internet to get information on religion. I found out that 40.66 percent of the people in Ephrata are affiliated with a religion. Using my mad math skills, I came up with 2,891 people who belong to a religion. I have to deduce that those 2,891 people are Christian because those are the only religions listed in the yellow pages. This doesn’t take into account the people who believe in Christ but are not affiliated with an organized religion. For my purposes, however, we have a lot of Christians in Ephrata, which is why I am going to talk about Mary. Can you follow my logic? That’s okay…Mike can’t either.
While I was raising my family, I tried to stay focused on why we celebrate Christmas. I admit that some years I did better than others. When James was about 4 years old we were in a craft store in Colorado Springs. There was a life-size statue of Santa Claus that James rushed up to and exclaimed loudly: “Jesus!” I was always thankful he didn’t point to pictures of Jesus at church and shout “Santa Claus!”
I explained the symbols of Christmas to my children. The candy canes we always put on the tree represented the crooks of the shepherds who were among the first to know of the birth of the Christ child. The star on top of the tree reminds us of the sign shown in the heavens that first Christmas Eve. The lights remind us that He is the Light of the World. The evergreen is the symbol of life. We give gifts to each other to remind us of the gift our Savior gave us through His atonement for our sins.
I find myself contemplating Mary’s point of view when I read the Christmas story in Luke. I should have talked to my children more about that. I don’t think she complained as she was riding on a donkey while in labor, but I believe she may have been frightened about not knowing what to expect. My daughter, Jodie, came very close to being born in the parking lot of Providence Hospital in Anchorage. Had it not been for some alert nurses, we may have had to pick gravel out of her thick head of hair. There were no nurses to rescue Mary, but I wonder if angels attended her. Even though it was not customary for the time, did Joseph wipe her brow and offer encouragement to her? Jesus was born in a manger, probably more like a cave than a wooden structure, but I don’t believe it was an accident. The conditions were dark and dirty and smelly, but there was no room at the inn because He was meant to be born in lowly surroundings. His ministry was among the poor, the sick, and the humble. He was born to heal broken hearts and to give hope to a weary world.
This Christmas I was at a program where the song Mary, Did you Know? was performed.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.
Mary did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God.
The blind will see, the deaf will hear and the dead will live again.
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the praises of the Lamb.
Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding is the great I Am. (Lyrics by Mark Lowry)
Mary was told by an angel that she would bear the Son of God, but I believe she had to learn what that meant little by little. After the birth of Christ was proclaimed to the shepherds, they told everyone they met about it. “And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2: 17-19).
This is how all of us figure out what it is we believe in, little by little, and by taking small moments of stillness to ponder. My beliefs will be added onto as I grow older, and I hope by the time my eulogy is written the main theme of it will be that I believe in Christ. I Believe. Powerful, life-affirming words.
May the power of this Christmas season heal your heart and bring you joy.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Ephrata Means Bethlehem
Grant County Journal
December 13, 2010
Ephrata means Bethlehem
Written by Janet Warren
Roberta Gibson gave me a call recently. She wanted to let me know that “Ephrata” means Bethlehem. She’s right. On the City’s website I learned this: “The first official name, recorded by the Great Northern Railroad in 1892, was ‘Station 11,’an unglamorous name for the water stop near Beezley Springs. Local legend has it that a worker on the rail line found that the orchards and the landscape were similar to the Holy Land and christened the area ‘Ephrata’… an older name for Bethlehem.” I didn’t know that. Here are some other things I didn’t know:
Bruce Reim is the Mayor Pro-Tem. That means if the mayor is absent, Bruce gets to rap the gavel at the City Council meeting. During the 1950’s, Bruce lived in Spokane where almost all of his extended family lived. His grandparents were the hub of their family and every Christmas Eve the entire family showed up at their house. They sang carols and munched on traditional goodies. Eggnog flowed like water for the children. Several members of the family played various instruments, so their family songfest was accompanied not only by a piano but also violins and a flute or two. Children sang solos, and skits were performed. Grandpa would then read the story of Christ’s birth from the Bible and then it was off to bed for the children. Bruce remembers waking during the night to the sound of the adults still singing and playing violins.
Stephanie Knitter is the newest member of City Council. She, her husband Keith and daughter Kaitlyn moved to Ephrata 16 years ago after a 4-year stint in California. Stephanie hosted an exchange student from Norway several years ago. She introduced the family to a type of porridge eaten on Christmas Eve after attending candlelight services. In one of the bowls an almond is hidden. The person who finds the almond gets a special gift. (I’ve also heard that the person who finds the almond has luck the whole next year. Yet another reason to find the almond this year, Stephanie).
Stephanie grew up in Florida . She and her siblings were allowed to open one small gift on Christmas Eve, which always happened to be pajamas. Stephanie thinks her mom did this so the pictures on Christmas morning would look nice. Her family still opens gifts on Christmas morning, just as she did as a kid. (As a side note, I did the pajama gift on Christmas Eve too, and that is the only tradition my two daughters continued in their own families. There is something really nice about a new pair of pajamas on Christmas Eve).
Ben Davis has been on the City Council for 7 years. He has lived in Ephrata since age 11, except for his college years. He married Roberta (Nickel), a lifelong Ephrata resident, 42 years ago. Ben remembers selling fresh-cut Christmas trees in Ephrata. He and his brother, Don, cut about 100 trees in Pend Orielle County and their father transported them to Ephrata. They stopped cutting trees when they were in their mid-teens, yet people called for years after hoping they could buy one of their wild, fresh trees.
Almost all of Ben’s immediate family lives in or close to Ephrata, which enables them to spend time together during all of the major holidays. One family tradition that Roberta and Ben have continued through generations is the making of the Davis Crab Cocktail at Christmas. The concoction has many ingredients, but the most important one is a large quantity of fresh Dungeness crab. They watch the ads very closely just before Christmas, but have frozen ones on hand just in case they are not available. (I was at Safeway on Wednesday and they had the crabs, buy one get one free!).
Wes Crago isn’t on the City Council, but he is the City Administrator and presents the city business at the council meetings. He tells me Christmas is a big deal in the Crago home. The tree must go up on the Friday following Thanksgiving, pre-empted only if skiing conditions are too good to ignore. The tree is decorated with an eclectic mix of horse, princess, and history ornaments. He and his daughter Christa put up the lights. His wife, Vangie, and Christa make Wes’s favorite Christmas cookie—frosted sugar cookies which he describes as “boring perhaps, yet pure.” Wes’s church celebrates the season with a weekly advent event, culminating in a Christmas Eve candlelight service which is a big highlight for them. Many evenings during Christmas will find the Cragos watching movies together or listening to jazz/blues Christmas music in front of the fire.
Kathleen Allstot and her husband Rick, along with their children, moved to Ephrata in 1987. Kathleen has been the teacher-librarian at Ephrata High School since 1990. Rick and Kathleen spent the first three Christmases of their marriage in Poland teaching English as a second language. Each year they celebrated Vigilia, or Christmas Eve with local families. A Polish tradition is to buy a large, fresh fish (usually carp) from the fishmonger’s shop, take it home and keep it alive in the bathtub until December 24th, and then bake it as the centerpiece of a multi-course holiday dinner! Kathleen said, “While we enjoyed many of the courses, such as borsht or wild mushroom soup or poppyseed cakes, we never did develop a love of carp.”
One Christmas Eve, Kathleen and Rick walked home after attending the midnight service at one of the few Protestant chapels in old town Olsztyn. “It was dark, snow was falling, and the air was crisp. As we approached a guardhouse outside the gate of a military base near the university, a young Polish soldier wearing a greatcoat and carrying his rifle asked us what time it was. We answered him (in Polish, of course), agreed that it was cold that night, and exchanged holiday greetings before parting. The best part was realizing that the poor young Communist soldier was guarding his base and his country against non-Communists such as ourselves. We have always remembered that incident because all three of us were simply young people away from home on Christmas, not enemies, but just God’s children from different countries.”
Did you notice that the traditions in last week’s column, as well as this one focus on people? They are about remembering family and connecting to our loved ones. They are about making Christmas special for others. Two of them were about connecting with strangers. They are about music and peaceful feelings. My best Christmas when I was a child was the one where my Christmas gift was to fly to Reno with my parents to look for a place to live. It was one of the first times I had spent one-on-one time with my folks. Please spend time with the people you love this Christmas. Those moments are memory makers.
December 13, 2010
Ephrata means Bethlehem
Written by Janet Warren
Roberta Gibson gave me a call recently. She wanted to let me know that “Ephrata” means Bethlehem. She’s right. On the City’s website I learned this: “The first official name, recorded by the Great Northern Railroad in 1892, was ‘Station 11,’an unglamorous name for the water stop near Beezley Springs. Local legend has it that a worker on the rail line found that the orchards and the landscape were similar to the Holy Land and christened the area ‘Ephrata’… an older name for Bethlehem.” I didn’t know that. Here are some other things I didn’t know:
Bruce Reim is the Mayor Pro-Tem. That means if the mayor is absent, Bruce gets to rap the gavel at the City Council meeting. During the 1950’s, Bruce lived in Spokane where almost all of his extended family lived. His grandparents were the hub of their family and every Christmas Eve the entire family showed up at their house. They sang carols and munched on traditional goodies. Eggnog flowed like water for the children. Several members of the family played various instruments, so their family songfest was accompanied not only by a piano but also violins and a flute or two. Children sang solos, and skits were performed. Grandpa would then read the story of Christ’s birth from the Bible and then it was off to bed for the children. Bruce remembers waking during the night to the sound of the adults still singing and playing violins.
Stephanie Knitter is the newest member of City Council. She, her husband Keith and daughter Kaitlyn moved to Ephrata 16 years ago after a 4-year stint in California. Stephanie hosted an exchange student from Norway several years ago. She introduced the family to a type of porridge eaten on Christmas Eve after attending candlelight services. In one of the bowls an almond is hidden. The person who finds the almond gets a special gift. (I’ve also heard that the person who finds the almond has luck the whole next year. Yet another reason to find the almond this year, Stephanie).
Stephanie grew up in Florida . She and her siblings were allowed to open one small gift on Christmas Eve, which always happened to be pajamas. Stephanie thinks her mom did this so the pictures on Christmas morning would look nice. Her family still opens gifts on Christmas morning, just as she did as a kid. (As a side note, I did the pajama gift on Christmas Eve too, and that is the only tradition my two daughters continued in their own families. There is something really nice about a new pair of pajamas on Christmas Eve).
Ben Davis has been on the City Council for 7 years. He has lived in Ephrata since age 11, except for his college years. He married Roberta (Nickel), a lifelong Ephrata resident, 42 years ago. Ben remembers selling fresh-cut Christmas trees in Ephrata. He and his brother, Don, cut about 100 trees in Pend Orielle County and their father transported them to Ephrata. They stopped cutting trees when they were in their mid-teens, yet people called for years after hoping they could buy one of their wild, fresh trees.
Almost all of Ben’s immediate family lives in or close to Ephrata, which enables them to spend time together during all of the major holidays. One family tradition that Roberta and Ben have continued through generations is the making of the Davis Crab Cocktail at Christmas. The concoction has many ingredients, but the most important one is a large quantity of fresh Dungeness crab. They watch the ads very closely just before Christmas, but have frozen ones on hand just in case they are not available. (I was at Safeway on Wednesday and they had the crabs, buy one get one free!).
Wes Crago isn’t on the City Council, but he is the City Administrator and presents the city business at the council meetings. He tells me Christmas is a big deal in the Crago home. The tree must go up on the Friday following Thanksgiving, pre-empted only if skiing conditions are too good to ignore. The tree is decorated with an eclectic mix of horse, princess, and history ornaments. He and his daughter Christa put up the lights. His wife, Vangie, and Christa make Wes’s favorite Christmas cookie—frosted sugar cookies which he describes as “boring perhaps, yet pure.” Wes’s church celebrates the season with a weekly advent event, culminating in a Christmas Eve candlelight service which is a big highlight for them. Many evenings during Christmas will find the Cragos watching movies together or listening to jazz/blues Christmas music in front of the fire.
Kathleen Allstot and her husband Rick, along with their children, moved to Ephrata in 1987. Kathleen has been the teacher-librarian at Ephrata High School since 1990. Rick and Kathleen spent the first three Christmases of their marriage in Poland teaching English as a second language. Each year they celebrated Vigilia, or Christmas Eve with local families. A Polish tradition is to buy a large, fresh fish (usually carp) from the fishmonger’s shop, take it home and keep it alive in the bathtub until December 24th, and then bake it as the centerpiece of a multi-course holiday dinner! Kathleen said, “While we enjoyed many of the courses, such as borsht or wild mushroom soup or poppyseed cakes, we never did develop a love of carp.”
One Christmas Eve, Kathleen and Rick walked home after attending the midnight service at one of the few Protestant chapels in old town Olsztyn. “It was dark, snow was falling, and the air was crisp. As we approached a guardhouse outside the gate of a military base near the university, a young Polish soldier wearing a greatcoat and carrying his rifle asked us what time it was. We answered him (in Polish, of course), agreed that it was cold that night, and exchanged holiday greetings before parting. The best part was realizing that the poor young Communist soldier was guarding his base and his country against non-Communists such as ourselves. We have always remembered that incident because all three of us were simply young people away from home on Christmas, not enemies, but just God’s children from different countries.”
Did you notice that the traditions in last week’s column, as well as this one focus on people? They are about remembering family and connecting to our loved ones. They are about making Christmas special for others. Two of them were about connecting with strangers. They are about music and peaceful feelings. My best Christmas when I was a child was the one where my Christmas gift was to fly to Reno with my parents to look for a place to live. It was one of the first times I had spent one-on-one time with my folks. Please spend time with the people you love this Christmas. Those moments are memory makers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)