Wednesday, February 4, 2009

My new job!


As I mentioned in an earlier post, I found a wonderful new Heritage Scrapbook site called Heritage Scrap. Heritage is my first love, and I fell in love with the site and its products. My heritage album caught the attention of the Creative Team Leader and I was invited to join the creative team!

I am so excited about this opportunity. My job is to create scrapbook pages using the products from the store and post them around the web to generate business for the store. What a job! I absolutely love it!

You can see my gallery at heritage scrap here.

This is a page I did using my new products. Credit goes to Lynn Griffin for use of her Winter Roses Kit.


Here's another page I did, called Sisters, and if you are into Digital Scrapbooking, you can download this kit free at Heritage Scrap. I used Kate McClellan's beautiful kit, M'Lady's Room.

I look forward to using the beautiful products at Heritage Scrap. They really have that vintage, heritage, Victorian feel that I love and they are so easy to work with. I told someone that my house looks like it came out of the shop at Heritage Scrap with all my roses decor. ;) Come on over and check us out!

Monday, February 2, 2009

Heritage Scrapping

In one of my heritage layouts, I say that my family is made up of storytellers. Story telling is something we do every time we get together. Daddy will always start to tell me a story, and Mother will say, "She's heard that a hundred times!"

Lately, I've been calling him, and when he starts to tell me a story, I'll pop open a notepad on the computer, and start typing in his story as he tells it. I know there are details I'll forget, and I want to get those stories on paper for future generations.

Genealogy is one of my greatest loves. I love finding history in MY history. I want to know the stories behind the names and dates. I want to know what happened in the dash. Linda Ellis wrote a poem called "The Dash" that begins this way...

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend

He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came her date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,

But he said what matter
ed most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.

And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

You can read the full text of the poem here.

So anyway, I'm beginning to realize that my job as one of the people charged with preserving our family pictures and stories is to learn all I can about those dashes and get those stories recorded. The best way I have found to do this is by scrapbooking heritage albums.

Last week, my cousin (and fellow genealogist and story keeper), JC, emailed me and said that one of our Dads' cousins was turning 85 and her family was having her a big birthday party. He asked if I could help out by putting together a scrapbook album telling her life story. Of course when someone starts a sentence, "Could you make a scrapbook..." the answer will 9 times out of 10 be "YES!".

JC went over to her house to interview her, wrote up her story and emailed it to me, along with scans of several pictures he got from her. Her daughter also emailed me pictures that she had, so I set to work. I had enough to get started by Tuesday or Wednesday, and the party was Saturday afternoon, so I had 3 or 4 days to scrap 85 years of Millie's life!

I emailed the last page to JC and Millie's daughter, Linda, at 5:00 am Saturday morning and then went to bed for a couple hours. JC got two copies of all 26 pages printed out and put into albums and Linda put them all in a power point presentation which she then presented at the party with over 100 attendees. Millie was thrilled and now we have those stories preserved. There are two paper copies in albums and Linda also has the .jpg images of the pages saved on CD for anyone else who wants a copy.

JC started this idea when his Dad (my Dad's brother) was diagnosed with alzheimers. His care providers told JC that a book about his life with pictures would help him with his memory. Even as he remembered less and less of the present, he would sit and look at his book and remember more of his past. When he passed away last Summer, JC presented the story of his life at his memorial service and it was such a beautiful way to honor his memory.

I plan to put together a book for my Dad to give him for his birthday in April. I made one for my Mom when she turned 70, but that was before I started scrapping digitally, so it was a LOT more work! :)

The cover page (as we have done with the others) will say "This is your life" (based on the old TV show). The outline starts with the person's birth and then covers major events in their life, ending with photos of their family, grandchildren, etc. It is such a neat thing to make and makes a wonderful gift for someone you love.

I was so excited to find a new website devoted entirely to Heritage Scrap. I hung out there this weekend and picked up some heritage kits. Here is a page I did with one of them. You can see my galle
ry at Heritage Scrap by clicking here. (Though it is just getting started. My other heritage pages are at Digital Scrapbook Place.)

The journaling on this page about my Mamaw's Calling Cards says: When Grace was a girl, she collected Victorian calling cards that had probably been her mother's. They hung in a frame in the roo
m I slept in when I visited them as a girl. When she died, I asked for the framed cards and they now proudly hang in my home. One day, I carefully took them out of the frame and opened them. I was surprised to find names of friends and relatives who had come to call. What a blessing to have this piece of family history!

I look forward to doing many more Heritage Scrap pages!

Another Reader in the Family!

Emily started kindergarten this year and we started phonics at the beginning of the school year. We started with the sounds the letters make. Then she learned to put those letters together to make words. From there, we put words together to make sentences, and when we returned to school after the Christmas break, she started reading her phonics readers. Now she loves to read and can't get enough. I love to watch her face light up as she sounds out a word and then realizes what it is. What joy! I was a reader as I grew up in a home with no television and even now, I love to curl up with a good book - one that keeps me awake into the wee sma's when everyone else is snoring away. I love the fact that a good book can transport you to another time and another place every time you crack it open. In honor of Emily's journey into the world of reading, I made this Layout for her scrapbook. Special thanks to my good friend, Larry Rea for sharing the sparrow with me. He was so interested in what Emily was reading, he hopped right up on her shoulder to see what it was. :)
(Digital Kits by Nicole Young at Digital Scrapbook Place)

Friday, January 30, 2009

I made the Top 40!

Well, it was technically the Top 100 gallery views at Digital Scrapbook Place, but I was number 40 on the list! So what does that mean? Well, when I upload a scrapbook page to my gallery, others can browse through the gallery and click to view a layout closer and comment on it. The list on DSP's blog consists of the 100 layouts that have the highest number of views. This particular layout that I did (the one that made the list) was for the Digital Elite Team Competition. I didn't make the team, but apparently this was a layout that people liked. It has been viewed over 600 times and was even nominated in the Best Overall Category for the 2008 Scrappy Awards.
I realize it seems like I'm boasting, so let me say that Digital Scrapbook Place is the largest Digiscrapping site on the web with the most members (almost 145,000!). There is a LOT of competition, so making the digital elite team, winning layout of the day, being inducted to the Hall of Fame, winning a scrappy award or making lists like this one is extremely rare (at least for me!) I guess that's why I'm so proud of this honor. So given all that, let me say that as much as I enjoy scrapbooking, I know it is a God given talent, so I want to give Him the glory for my accomplishments. ;) So without further ado, here is the layout that made the list...


Click image to go to the gallery.
Thanks for indulging me in my boasting. We now return to our regularly scheduled humility. ;)

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Aunt Arabelle


I'm always looking for new ways to stretch myself graphically. I got the idea for this layout from a page Nicole Young did where she put a reflection of her photo underneath it. I started playing to duplicate the effort, when my experimenting went in an unexpected direction. As is often the case, it headed right in the direction of Heritage. ;)

Aunt Arabelle was my great Grandfather's sister. Some of my "cousins" and I on our My Family site have been talking about Arabelle this week. I was a baby when she died, so I never met her personally, but everyone I have talked to who knew her, loved her.

Aunt Arabelle and Uncle Boone couldn't have children, but they loved them dearly. They always had sweets tucked away for when the kids visited them. They finally decided to adopt a son and daughter and give them a loving home. Unfortunately, their daughter Goldie died at the young age of 18 in a pregnancy related affliction, and their son Warner died in a hunting accident when he was in his early 20s.

Maybe it was those trials - of not being able to have children, then losing the ones they were blessed with, that strengthened their faith. Aunt Arabelle was the godliest woman in most people's memories. Uncle Boone became sick and she cared for him. Then toward the end of her life, she suffered heart problems and took to her bed. From there, she consistently praised the Lord. Every conversation was about God. She prayed fervently and her prayers were answered.

My aunt Geneva, Arabelle's niece, told us that one evening, the Lord impressed upon her and her husband to go stay with Aunt Arabelle and Uncle Boone. When they arrived, they knocked at the door, but there was no answer. Aunt Arabelle was hard of hearing and didn't hear them knocking. They went around the house and listened at the window, and there, they heard Aunt Arabelle praying "Lord, send someone to stay with us. Boone is awful bad sick." Little did she know that at that very moment, her prayer was being answered. Even in the midst of her prayer, there came a tapping at the window. There was Geneva and Ora, who had come to stay the night. They had brought some coffee and sandwiches and she was able to eat and get some much needed rest.

Even on her meager income, she tithed right off the top. She had so many material needs, but the Lord got His share first, and He blessed her for it. She taught us all a lesson about giving. It reminds me of the story in the Bible about the widow's mite.

While some may have considered her faith overboard, her sincerity proved that she was not a religious zealot, but someone who knew the Lord personally and walked with Him daily. A sign hung above the door of her outhouse that read "Jesus Saves". Maybe it served as a reminder to her that she was never alone.

The journaling on my scrapbook page (above) reads: Aunt Arabelle Porter Walker was a reflection of everything right and good. She was a godly woman who treated everyone with kindness and respect. She loved children, even though she couldn't have any of her own, and adopted a son & daughter & gave them a loving home. She didn't have much when it came to worldly goods, but she departed this life praising the Lord.

It is my hope and prayer that I would have, even a little of the character and faith that Aunt Arabelle had. She serves as a godly example to the generations that come behind her. May those who come behind us find us faithful!

I am reminded of a song recorded by Steve Green called Find us Faithful.

We're pilgrims on the journey
Of the narrow road
And those who've gone before us line the way
Cheering on the faithful, encouraging the weary
Their lives a stirring testament to God's sustaining grace

Surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses
Let us run the race not only for the prize
But as those who've gone before us
Let us leave to those behind us
The heritage of faithfulness passed on through godly lives

CHORUS:
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
May the fire of our devotion light their way
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe
And the lives we live inspire them to obey

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

After all our hopes and dreams have come and gone
And our children sift through all we've left behind
May the clues that they discover and the memories they uncover
Become the light that leads them to the road we each must find

REPEAT CHORUS

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful
Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

Friday, January 23, 2009

It's just a little thing...


It's called a tailbone, or a sacrum, or a coccyx. One website says, "The coccyx provides slight support for the pelvic organs but actually is a bone of little use." So if it is so useless, why does it hurt so bad when you ride down the stairs on it?
That's exactly what I did yesterday. I've been walking down those stairs every morning for the last 6 1/2 years. Suddenly I forgot how... or something. My foot went flying off the step, I landed on my useless tailbone and bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce...down the stairs, I went.
A few seconds was all it took to realize that I was in excruciating pain. I did eventually recover my wits enough to get up, but my moaning and groaning brought all the kids rushing to the stairs from whatever room they were in in the house. My husband, who had been contentedly making coffee in the kitchen rushed in and asked the typical male question, "What happened?"
I tried to sit down, but screamed. I tried to lie down, but that didn't work either. I knelt by the couch and figured while I was on my knees, it wouldn't hurt to ask for some help.
I finally called my sister, who broke her tailbone last year. She assured me that if I hadn't broken mine, I had at least bruised it really badly. She told me it took six to eight weeks to heal. For days she couldn't sit down. She spent a month sitting on a donut.
I took large amounts of Tylenol and tried to find a position to lie in that would allow me to breathe without gasping. While I was trying to rest, my friend Kelli called. She had broken her tailbone years ago. She left me with the assurance, "You think it hurts now, wait until you wake up tomorrow! Whoa, are you going to be sore!"
She was right.
Thank God we got that waterbed last Christmas (see post from last Christmas. ;)
If you're going to bruise your tailbone, sleeping on a heated waterbed that conforms to your backside is probably about the most comfortable thing you can do. Of course, I still moaned every time I moved, but in between times wasn't so bad.
Today, I can actually sit down, as long as I lean forward. I think it must not be broken or I would have spent the day on all fours. But standing up after sitting for awhile is about as much fun as having toothpicks pounded under you finger nails.
Kelli and I have a scale that we rank our pain on. Between the two of us, we have 16 kids, so labor is one of those pains that ranks pretty high on the list. This pain comes in just above labor. (The only other thing we've experienced so far that is worse than labor is kidney stones.)
This morning, when I started down the stairs, I grabbed the railing and held on with both hands while navigating my descent very slowly. I made it all the way to the bottom, while still on my feet. That's progress.
Hopefully tomorrow will be even better.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Penguin Awareness Day and Why I talk funny!

Did you know today is Penguin Awareness Day???

Wear black and white to honor our little friends. Tuxedo optional. ;)

Did you know? Penguins are found in Antarctica, South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand. Elsewhere, they are only found in zoos.

Q: What do Penguins have for lunch?
A: Icebergers.

Q: What do you call a penguin in the desert?
A: Lost.

Speaking of penguins, that word gets a lot of discussion around here. As some of you may know, my parents are from NE Kentucky, so I grew up hearing Appalachian English spoken in my home. (That's NOT what Jeff Foxworthy calls it, by the way. ;) So while I do not speak with a twang, there are certain words that I pronounce differently than my husband who grew up in NW PA and my children, who for some reason, learned to talk like their Dad.

Penguin is one of those words.

When it flows eloquently from my lips, it sounds like this: Ping-gwin.

My kids say, "Mom! It's not Ping Gwin - it's Pen gwin." This makes no sense to me at all!

So my daughter says - "How do you say pen?" I answer - "Pin".

"NO, that's like a safety pin or a stick pen - I mean the thing you write with."

"Oh, a pin."

"NO, it's pEn - with an E."

Honestly, I was an English major. I homeschool my children. I know how to SPELL pin and pen. I know the difference between a stick pin, a pig pen, an ink pen and a diaper pin. But to my ear, they all sound EXACTLY the same! Just as "to" and "too" are spelled differently but sound exactlythe same.

Ahh, frustration on their part. I just smile smugly knowing deep down that they all talk funny.

Language is something that interests me - especially dialects within the English language. So when my friends in college and later, my own flesh and blood started making fun of certain things I would say, I needed to understand why it was that everyone had an accent besides me. ;) That's when I discovered that there is actually a term for what we all speak "down home" and Appalachian English is what it's called. Here are the specific phonetic differences that make Appalachian English one of the most distinctive and divergent dialects within the United States:

An intrusive R occurs in words such as wash, leading to the pronunciation "warsh". (I used to love sitting in front of my mom in church so I could listen to her sing "Are you warshed in the blood?" :D)

Creek is pronounced /krɪk/ (As in, "We'll be there if the crik don't rise.")

An -er sound is often used for long "o" at the end of a word. For example, hollow— "a small, sheltered valley"— is pronounced holler. (i.e. He lives just around the holler from here.)

The "z" sound in certain contractions is pronounced as a d stop. For example, Isn't and wasn't are often pronounced idn't and wadn't. ("My cuddin dudn't like me to talk is way." - translation: My cousin doesn't like me to talk this way.)

H retention occurs at the beginning of certain words. It, for example, is sometimes pronounced hit, and ain't is sometimes pronounced hain't. (He hain't been here for a week.)

Participles and gerunds such as doing and mining end in /n/ instead of ing. While this occurs to some extent in all dialects of American English, it occurs with greater frequency in Southern Appalachia. (My Papaw worked in minin' for a long time when he wadn't doin' somethin' else.)

Word final a is sometimes pronounced y, as in okra. (My Aunt Wanda is called Wand-y.) and while we're at it, Word final i is sometimes pronounced /a/. (Cincinnati is pronounced Cincinnata. and Ohio is pronounced O-hi-uh.)

Intervocalic s as in greasy is pronounced /z/. (Also in my Aunt Daisy - pronounced Daze.)

Some Phonetics:

Vowels are drawn out in that "Southern drawl" and may have two syllables - red is pronounced rey-ed.

In the two-syllable vowel /аɪ/, the second half of the vowel syllable is often omitted, and is thus pronounced similar to [ɑː]. In extreme instances, words such as "wire" and "fire" are pronounced so as to completely rhyme with "car." (I wonder war's the far!)

AND HEREIN LIES THE PROBLEM:

Short "i" and short "e" have the same pronunciation when appearing before "n" or "m" (e.g., "pen" and "pin" are both pronounced "pin"). Adjectives are often used to distinguish between the two (e.g., "ink pen").

If you'd like to read even more ways we talk differently than those of you who talk wrong, you can read about Appalachian English here. ;)

Here is a conversation I might have had with my Papaw (grandfather) when I was a young'un...

"Well hullo! Come on in. I was just fixin' to get somethin' to eat. Sit on down here and get yuself a cathead biscuit and sop it in some gravy. I reckon they'd be plenty if ya hain't too hungry. Doggonnit! If I hain't knocked that bowl clean off the table and gaumed it all up. Land sakes! Well, get that sack of flour down from over yonder and I'll go to fixin' some more. After we're done eatin' we'll fix us a mess of beans and a pone of cornbread to have for dinner. Then for supper, we'll go on up the road apiece and get us somethin' at the Burger King."

Now, granted, I don't talk like that in my regular day to day life, but when I get on the phone with one of my aunts in Kentucky, that dialect starts to slide out of my mouth like butter on a hot biscuit. My kids always know when I'm talking to one of them, because even after I hang up the phone, it takes awhile to shake it off. "Welllllllll, Lord have mercy! What in THE world are you all lookin' at?"

"Mom. Talk normal."

"This IS normal, I reckon!"

So why do my people talk is way? There are lots of theories about that. One theory is that people in Appalachia are cut off from the rest of the country. Well, not since the advents of things like cars and the internet - and they still talk this way. And why, when someone moves from Kentucky to the big city, do they continue to talk this way? And even the second generation of transplants (that would be me) continue in some of this dialect.

Many of the words can be found in Shakespeare, like afeared and reckon. Well, shoot. Reckon is even in the Bible! So are we just the remnants of a society that spoke Elizabethan English, cut off from the rest of the world who continued to speak it when the rest of the world evolved into what my family calls "normal" English? Nah.

The most probable theory is that many people in the Appalachian region came from the lowland Scots who were early settlers to the region. You can find phrases like "might could" and I'm "a-goin" and "right cold" in many Scottish dialects. Which would explain why my family tree is made up of surnames like Lawson, Henderson and Erwin, all of which have clans and tartans and probably talked just as funny in good old Scotland as they still do in my old Kentucky home!

So let's be politically correct about all this. Just because we talk differently than the rest of America doesn't mean we're rednecks; it means we're interesting and have a rich cultural heritage. No foolin'!