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Monday, September 20, 2010
New Look!! Same disorganized content.
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Saturday, September 11, 2010
A Beautiful Tribute
I have an amazing treasure trove of information about my father's side of the family. Frank's (my great-great grandfather) brother, James, wrote a life sketch of their father, Burton Ayres. The preface to that sketch is a loving and beautiful tribute. I was so touched by it that I wanted to share.
A Life Sketch of Burton Ayres
Preface
The world's worthiest ancestry who were born to what the world calls "humble" conditions of avocation, and yet with noble traits and generous impulses, have too often passed away "unhonored and unsung." Many a so-called ordinary folk who have hewn out a home and a character in the wilds of the West, and yet not for themselves alone, but for their posterity have just claims upon the gratitude and remembrance of succeeding generations, and the records on high may yet reveal who had the greater part and the highest credit in reclaiming the earth from its wild state to render it a fit and beautiful world for God's children.
The cordon of history that surrounds such lives is a romance of itself, and may be the inspiration of children's children. Gratitude is the highest impulse of the soul, and ingratitude is an unpardonable sin.
The Dower of a Christian home, a civilized community, religious and secular education, the evolution of a free state and nation proclaims a just eulogy upon the lives and character of our fathers.
Such reflections have led the writer of this little sketch to undertake a work that from lack of materials, which might in other conditions been obtained, must of necessity be very imperfect, and yet, whose meagerness may not excuse from recording what we know of one whose life was a continuous exploit, whose trade made him an industrial necessity, and whose honesty made him honorable, and widely known among the earlier and later settlers of Northern Illinois.
To not record even what is known of such a father would be ungrateful and unfilial.
J.C.A.
James C. Ayres
Oh, that I could someday be worthy of such a tribute.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
House Update - Installment Two
So I told you all that we are going to be working on my grandmother's house in order to someday actually live there. I love history and archeology, so this is a blast for me. Yesterday dad and I worked out the original plan of the house. See, the stairs have been reoriented and there are several additions. The original house was a bit of a box and had four rooms. A kitchen, dining room, sun porch, and additional bedroom have been added on. Even the history of the additions is interesting. For example, the dining room was extended a few feet just so great-grandpa Melton could sit in his chair and look out a window. An addition just for the sake of a view.
Oh my, and lets talk about the layers and layers of floor covering going on here. First is the original wood floor. I love, love, love exposing this. Just to know my great-great grandparents trod on these makes this history geek quite happy. Then there is congoleum. I now know more about this product than I ever though I would. I had to research it when we uncovered it since I had no idea what it was. Some of it is quite pretty actually. But whoever put it down just added the next layer over what was already there. The two downstairs rooms have many, many layers of carpet. I for one am strangely excited to see them there. It gives me a concrete view of the changes that have taken place over the years.
Last week we took out what was left of the chimney. It had been partially removed when the house went from wood to gas heat. What was left was weighing the house down. As we removed the bricks the smell of a fire filled the room we worked in. I couldn't help but let my mind linger on what it would have been like to see Lizzie at that fire, cooking the family dinner. The chimney was the heart of the house for so long - providing heat and a way to cook and clean. Now that it is out we plan to re-purpose it too. It will be parcelled out to family who will use it each in their own way. It has been given new life. It is kind of cool to realize all the memories those bricks hold, and that they will go on soaking up family moments for years to come.
Oh my, and lets talk about the layers and layers of floor covering going on here. First is the original wood floor. I love, love, love exposing this. Just to know my great-great grandparents trod on these makes this history geek quite happy. Then there is congoleum. I now know more about this product than I ever though I would. I had to research it when we uncovered it since I had no idea what it was. Some of it is quite pretty actually. But whoever put it down just added the next layer over what was already there. The two downstairs rooms have many, many layers of carpet. I for one am strangely excited to see them there. It gives me a concrete view of the changes that have taken place over the years.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Perpetual Lessons
“What have you done?”
“I tried to hold still the day.”
“How?”
“I firmly planted my feet. I raised my right hand against the sun, blocking it’s path across the sky. I lifted my face to the north wind, denying its travel to the south. With my left hand I stilled the western sky, banishing it to an eternal state of pre-dawn darkness and gray dusk. I turned my back to the south, blocking it’s warmth and damming up it’s hot wind. I willed the day to be still, frozen, unchanging. The good in my life would be forever good. While the bad would remain unchanged, no new ills or woes could develop. I would always know what there was and how things are. Nothing unexpected would challenge me.”
“Did you find success in this?”
“I… did not.”
“Did it bring you peace?”
“No. Not true peace.”
“What became of you? You look weary.”
“ My right hand caught fire and became useless. The sun then churned forward in it’s anger from all the new days that had been stolen from it. My left hand became gray and listless; it’s purpose stolen while living in a land of unfinished ends and beginnings. My face became frozen and lifeless - unable to feel or see beauty in anything. My back burned, scorched by a vindictive southern wind - it’s warmth in a fury over countless new lives and growth it had not been able to trigger. I then saw the new mercy I did not receive, the resolution of guilt and trouble, and new challenges that made me stronger. My control was a sham and I never really held anything at bay. I fear pain and loss, but they are inevitable. I wasted my time on trying to stop them when I should have learned how to survive, heal, grow, and then serve. I am so exhausted.”
“Was it for naught?”
“At first it seemed so - but I grow the most when I have been broken. I am dealing with the frustration of this fact.”
“What will you do now?”
“I am digesting new found truths. I am learning to use new strengths.”
“You may regress.”
“I am sure I shall. Soon I will falter, perhaps even stumble and fall.”
“Then what will you do? Will you try to halt the celestial dance again?”
“No. I know I won’t succeed in that. I have to keep getting up. Time does not have the authority to wait for me. I must endure it’s sequelae. But beauty and truth can accompany pain.”
“It is a hard lesson to learn and you will need reminders. There are those that will help you, but when you fight this sort of thing you must be prepared to be attacked. It is… inevitable.”
“I have to train and prepare. I have to surround myself with authentic companions. I have learned some, but also know I have a long way to go. My true hope comes from knowing this life has guaranteed deliverance. When I still myself, and learn to appreciate the rhythm of the heavens, the sun will tell me what it has seen while I slept.”
“I tried to hold still the day.”
“How?”
“I firmly planted my feet. I raised my right hand against the sun, blocking it’s path across the sky. I lifted my face to the north wind, denying its travel to the south. With my left hand I stilled the western sky, banishing it to an eternal state of pre-dawn darkness and gray dusk. I turned my back to the south, blocking it’s warmth and damming up it’s hot wind. I willed the day to be still, frozen, unchanging. The good in my life would be forever good. While the bad would remain unchanged, no new ills or woes could develop. I would always know what there was and how things are. Nothing unexpected would challenge me.”
“Did you find success in this?”
“I… did not.”
“Did it bring you peace?”
“No. Not true peace.”
“What became of you? You look weary.”
“ My right hand caught fire and became useless. The sun then churned forward in it’s anger from all the new days that had been stolen from it. My left hand became gray and listless; it’s purpose stolen while living in a land of unfinished ends and beginnings. My face became frozen and lifeless - unable to feel or see beauty in anything. My back burned, scorched by a vindictive southern wind - it’s warmth in a fury over countless new lives and growth it had not been able to trigger. I then saw the new mercy I did not receive, the resolution of guilt and trouble, and new challenges that made me stronger. My control was a sham and I never really held anything at bay. I fear pain and loss, but they are inevitable. I wasted my time on trying to stop them when I should have learned how to survive, heal, grow, and then serve. I am so exhausted.”
“Was it for naught?”
“At first it seemed so - but I grow the most when I have been broken. I am dealing with the frustration of this fact.”
“What will you do now?”
“I am digesting new found truths. I am learning to use new strengths.”
“You may regress.”
“I am sure I shall. Soon I will falter, perhaps even stumble and fall.”
“Then what will you do? Will you try to halt the celestial dance again?”
“No. I know I won’t succeed in that. I have to keep getting up. Time does not have the authority to wait for me. I must endure it’s sequelae. But beauty and truth can accompany pain.”
“It is a hard lesson to learn and you will need reminders. There are those that will help you, but when you fight this sort of thing you must be prepared to be attacked. It is… inevitable.”
“I have to train and prepare. I have to surround myself with authentic companions. I have learned some, but also know I have a long way to go. My true hope comes from knowing this life has guaranteed deliverance. When I still myself, and learn to appreciate the rhythm of the heavens, the sun will tell me what it has seen while I slept.”
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Brief Intro to the New Adventure
Well folks, it seems we shall be re-purposing a farm house built in 1871. Not what I had in mind when we moved back to Kansas. I always wish I could somehow see God's facial expression when He slips the unexpected curve ball in. I can almost hear Him say, "You didn't see that coming, huh?!?" The circumstances around this adventure are complex and emotional, so I won't go into those now. The house still belongs to my grandmother. It was originally inhabited by my great-great grandfather and grandmother, Franklin and Elizabeth Ayres. I affectionately refer to them as Frank and Lizzie. They were some pretty amazing people and I am excited to live where they have trod. There will be some demo work and remodeling to an extent. We are juggling aesthetics, safety, and budget. It will be all very interesting to say the least. Stay tuned for pictures and updates. Oh, and wish us luck and feel free to whisper some prayers. I am sure we will need them.
The Princess is One
Talk about transition. If ever there was an example of transition, it is the first year of life for any child. Or, how about from conception to that first birthday. One cell to a walkie-talkie. Amazing.
Here is to you, my Princess. The first year of your life has been tumultuous. You showed up unexpectedly and took our breath away. You were comfort in trying times; a soft little package of love to calm the soul. You were a smile to brighten the hospital room and dainty enough to hold when daddy was hurting. You were a chance for mommy to finally be girly in the midst of testosterone overload.
You were weak, helpless, dependent, fragile, needy, unresponsive. You are strong, learning to do for yourself, quick to get your needs met, learning to fend and defend, and full of love, smiles, and kisses. You cried and cooed; now you speak with emphasis. You laid still; now you crawl, roll, stand, and get into everything. You wanted only me; now though you prefer me, you love to interact with others.
You are so beautiful. You are smart and cunning. I see in your face that you are thinking all things through. You in turn study the face of others. You get to know them first, then offer your love. You will be a force to be reckoned with someday. I love you fiercely.
Your brothers went through similar transitions. They are changing too. You, my girlie girl will offer me a different sort of companionship than they. I can’t wait to traverse life with you.
Happy first year, my dear one. I am so thankful God gave you to me. Your brothers are surely the cake, which makes you the icing. Mommy is a lucky, lucky lady.
Here is to you, my Princess. The first year of your life has been tumultuous. You showed up unexpectedly and took our breath away. You were comfort in trying times; a soft little package of love to calm the soul. You were a smile to brighten the hospital room and dainty enough to hold when daddy was hurting. You were a chance for mommy to finally be girly in the midst of testosterone overload.
You were weak, helpless, dependent, fragile, needy, unresponsive. You are strong, learning to do for yourself, quick to get your needs met, learning to fend and defend, and full of love, smiles, and kisses. You cried and cooed; now you speak with emphasis. You laid still; now you crawl, roll, stand, and get into everything. You wanted only me; now though you prefer me, you love to interact with others.
You are so beautiful. You are smart and cunning. I see in your face that you are thinking all things through. You in turn study the face of others. You get to know them first, then offer your love. You will be a force to be reckoned with someday. I love you fiercely.
Your brothers went through similar transitions. They are changing too. You, my girlie girl will offer me a different sort of companionship than they. I can’t wait to traverse life with you.
Happy first year, my dear one. I am so thankful God gave you to me. Your brothers are surely the cake, which makes you the icing. Mommy is a lucky, lucky lady.
Claire Elizabeth Fontaine
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Mercy Dawns
I watched the silver moon bow to the pink of dawn this morning. I love to be up before everyone else. I like to hear the frog's nightly chorus give way to the melody of the birds. While I still miss the geography of Tennessee, you sure don’t see the sky there like you do here. It always feels so vast, like it could suck you up into oblivion at any moment. The stars loose no luster out here in the country.
I had planned to get up this early every day this summer to enjoy such a rare treat, but being mommy has just made me too tired to do it. There is so much peace to the beginning of the day - before you or someone else has had the chance to wreck it. This morning really reminded me of the verse that says,
"His mercies are new every morning."
The same stuff is happening out there at dawn everyday. The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west. The moon is always overshadowed by the sun. Nocturnal always gives way to diurnal. But what follows the dawn can be new. The mercy we receive to rewrite yesterday is a blessed thing. For a self critical gal like myself second chances are nearly manna.
Do yourself a favor - sometime soon go greet the morning. Go out in the black of night and await the sunrise. In the shade changes of black, to gray, to purple, to pink, to the full light of the sun see what happens in your heart.
I had planned to get up this early every day this summer to enjoy such a rare treat, but being mommy has just made me too tired to do it. There is so much peace to the beginning of the day - before you or someone else has had the chance to wreck it. This morning really reminded me of the verse that says,
"His mercies are new every morning."
The same stuff is happening out there at dawn everyday. The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west. The moon is always overshadowed by the sun. Nocturnal always gives way to diurnal. But what follows the dawn can be new. The mercy we receive to rewrite yesterday is a blessed thing. For a self critical gal like myself second chances are nearly manna.
Do yourself a favor - sometime soon go greet the morning. Go out in the black of night and await the sunrise. In the shade changes of black, to gray, to purple, to pink, to the full light of the sun see what happens in your heart.
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