Our Christmas with Mixbook

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree, how lovely are your branches??
Joy to the World, the Lord has Come!
Away in the Manger the poor Baby wakes…
Silent Night, Holy Night, All is Calm, All is Bright…

These songs (and so many more) are on repeat in the Glass house and we are watching all the Christmas movies too. Do you know what else we are doing this holiday season? Updating our photos! As usual for our printing needs, we partnered with Mixbook, and I am so glad that we did.

Since our first year of marriage, Asa and I have sent out Christmas cards. At first I think he thought I was kind of silly [they included photos of us awkwardly posing, and our multitude of pets], but over the years, he admits that he loves it just as much as I do. [Wives know best right?]…….#KIDDING

Anyway, Mixbook has always been great and our Christmas cards come out beautifully! When this post goes live, you all will still have one day [by 12/15] to get your photo presents by December 24! Calendars are also going on sale until 12/19, but I’ll get there in a second.

One of my gifts for my mom has always been a 12-month calendar. She has always hung one in their kitchen, right above the small desk and work space. It’s one of the corners in their house, where I grew up, that is sentimental for me in a sense; making calendars for her full of photos from our past memories is something that I LOVE to do. This year was no different. I compiled tons of photos and asked my brother and sister-in-law to share theirs too. I plugged in birthdays and designed each month exactly how I wanted to. When the package arrived I was so excited to open it and flip through each month—the quality is excellent and pages sturdy. I can’t wait for her to open it when we get to visit for Christmas this year!

The last thing we gifted ourselves this holiday season, was an updated canvas in our living room. My sister-in-law takes our photos for us and we haven’t updated it in a couple of years. I love having our family photo being one of the first things people see when they walk in! These too have always had great quality with clear resolution, and accurate colors. You can see in the photos below our living room gallery too, which is full of photos we printed from Mixbook :)

Let’s face it, at the end of the day you know there are a million (plus some) photos on your phones, screaming to get and be printed. I promise you that Mixbook is the company to help you with that. Pictures are worth a thousand words and make the sweetest holiday presents for your loved ones. If you make your own order this year [or ever] let me know! I would love to know what you purchased. Photo books, cards, invitations, and calendars…this company has so much to offer!

Here or There: Holding Tightly to Humphrey

I remember thinking, “But how will you KNOW when the end of your pets’ life is near?” As I write this with tear filled eyes, the computer screen is blurry and I keep pausing to rest my head in my hands to just sob. From time to time, Humphrey’s head will look up from his own paws to glance at me; but not often. He’s a very sick and very tired boy. And today he was given his life sentence.

Hours ago I sat on the floor at our vet’s clinic, gently petting him as we waited for the doctor to come in. The doctor who has been seeing Humphrey for at least a decade; who I used to work with at different animal clinic long long ago, and who knows me incredibly well as his client. “Okay, Ashley…” he said when he came in. I knew from his tone, and I couldn’t retain my tears. He continued to tell me about the diagnosis: a large mass in his chest, which has put pressure on Humphrey’s heart. He also has fluid in his lungs, and all of this is why he has been coughing for months. Months that I will never get back. I assumed he had acid reflux because it never seemed severe…until last night.

Last night I was sitting at my desk writing when I heard him cough. The cough was different this time though, I looked up and within seconds, Humphrey towered to the floor on his side. He attempted to get up three times and fell over after each one. I screamed for my husband who came flying down the stairs. I tried to explain what happened—it didn’t seem like a seizure, I just wasn’t sure WHAT had occurred. One thing was for certain though, Humphrey immediately transformed into a different dog. His eyes changed, his breathing became labored, and it appeared as if the will was sucked from his spirit. I almost had a panic attack…every ounce of me was shaking and I just kept saying, “I’m not ready. I’m not READY…..!” He calmed down some breathing wise, was able to go outside to potty, and we made it through the night without any other events. At 4:30 in the morning I heard him cough again and I stumbled out of bed. I could tell he was imbalanced and just not well…as much as I tried to sleep, it wasn’t happening and I knew that there was no way I could teach today.

I am glad I took the day off and that I was able to get him in to the doctor. But at the same time, I am so mad at SO many things. I’m mad at myself for getting so angry when he hasn’t been able to hold his poop and has accidents inside. I’m so mad at my negative thoughts that I have truthfully had, my impatience and frustration. Even recently I browsed the internet for Golden Retriever puppies because well, who doesn’t like looking at puppies?! And now I feel TERRIBLE. I had no idea. How could we have, right? But that doesn’t change anything. With my anger filters in sorrow and regret: how many more times could I have walked him around the neighborhood or taken him to the park? How many more photos could I have taken when he was healthy and fit and HAPPY? Sadness and fatigue now haze his beautiful brown eyes and the photos I have taken today remind me how quickly life can change.

Twenty-four hours ago he was playing with a ball and wagging his tail. He was following us up the stairs to the kids bedrooms and family room, he was begging for food and constantly under foot. Now I wonder, how will we go on without him?

I’m not dumb or irrational about my grief…I KNOW that time will heal us and that we will BE okay. I don’t think the world is going to combust or that anything serious will happen when Humphrey passes. But why do we have to experience this NOW? I’m not ready. I want more time.

There’s a good chance that you have had a pet of your own pass as well. Who is EVER ready for death to knock on their door step? So while I don’t know when it will happen, I do know that it will be soon. I don’t know how, but I know it will be tragic. I pray for my kids, that they can witness our strength and dignity through this time and that they will also grieve our Humphrey. I pray that they remember him always, as the Big Brown Wonder who used to knock them down SO often as babies, and who just recently, covered Pierson’s bare tummy and back with hundreds of kisses at bed time. I pray for my husband, OH how I pray for my husband…who picked Humphrey up and brought him home as an 8 week old puppy. Who endured major depression as a young adult, clinging to Humphrey the entire time. And while I pray for these things, I also want to remember, so bear with me as I share some of my favorites:

-The first day that I met Humphrey. It was my first unofficial date with Asa. Humphrey greeted me by knocking me down and slobbering all over me.
-When he lived me for a period of time while Asa and I were dating and later engaged
-When he jumped out of a glass basement window just to be near to Asa
-He ate a 30 pound bag of dog treats while we were out of the house…and then pooped for days
-He ate our Christmas ham while I was nursing Reese and had no idea
-He welcomed a prostitute who broke into our house while I was nursing Pierson (okay this just changed my crying to laughing. Thanks, Hump)
-When he sliced a major artery in his tongue after catching a stick at the park; that wasn’t funny, like at ALL, but the memory of it is just insane and it has made for a good story ;)
-The 5 times he has moved with us into different homes, each one of them he has followed us around in and helped make us feel SAFE
-How he used to break up our fights. He would sit in the middle of us and paw at our legs trying to get us to stop!
-How he constantly whines and barks and whimpers while riding in a car…until today. When he laid down the entire time and never made one peep. My heart shattered and I’ll never forget that.
-His many trips to Michigan, how he loves to sunbathe on the hill in my parents yard, overlooking the field of sheep
-Taking him hiking and walking, watching him fetch sticks in creeks
-How he welcomed our kids when each was born, and how he has loved each of them so very well

There are so many more. You don’t put 11 years of memories [Humphrey was 1 when we met] into a single blog post. You can’t. I don’t know what the next days will look like. I keep going from being fine and talking calmly, to just sobbing hysterically. Never have I felt so emotionally unstable, so heartbroken, or so shattered. If you know Humphrey, I’m so glad that you do. For so many of you, he has greeted you with sloppy kisses and begged for food off your plate. Thank you for loving him.

I love you, Humphrey Bogart Glass. When it’s your time, may you greet Jesus with a ball in your mouth, leaping and bounding through His pearly gates. Please greet me when it’s my time down the road, okay? I too, may be a little older and a whole lot more grey, but you’ll remember me right? Bring me your ball and you can introduce me to our Creator. While you are still here, I promise to do nothing but love you, hold you, pray over you, and give you whatever you want. Be strong always, dear boy, here or there.

A Day Well Spent: Apple Picking at Boyd's Orchard

One of our FAVORITE parts about fall is most definitely the festivities, and this year's apple picking outing was well worth a dedicated blog post. All you locals have heard of Huber's Farm, and while it's a beautiful farm with TONS to do, we try to avoid it this time of year because it's just SO swamped [and honestly for us, a little overdone.] We had never been to Boyd's Orchard in Versailles so when our friends Tim and Stephanie told us about it, we thought something new would be fun. 

Versailles is about an hour drive for us, and traveling there we have to go directly through horse country. The kids excitedly pointed out EVERY horse and fancy barn they saw out their windows, and as usual when I head that way, my head just spun with dreams of someday owning my own farm. Anyway, back to more Orchard talk, I know that's what you're curious about! 

Everything is really beautifully set up as soon as you arrive, and the kids obviously loved the giant chair. The store was packed with jams, and honey, and um, hello, FRESHLY BAKED CIDER DONUTS!!! I'm not going to lie, I was craving pumpkin donuts as well, but they weren't baking any the day that we went [I'm not sure if they do anyway?] One of my FAVORITE things about fall in Michigan [where I grew up] was the family market I grew up going to; they had the best cider and most delicious cake donuts in all varieties. We got a box of six cider donuts and they did not disappoint.  

We took a tractor out to the apple trees and with our bags, walked down endless rows of beautiful apples. We had to remind the kids that this was not an Easter egg hunt and that they could not pick EVERY single apple...but they almost had as much fun as Easter because finding the BEST apples became a very thrilling game. 

Who am I kidding? I basically wanted to go to the orchard with Reese's outfit in mind the ENTIRE time, and bless her heart, she endured a 70-degree morning in the sun to look cute picking apples in those overalls [sorry, I'm laughing over here.] But really, she and Pierson had a blast. We paid for the wrist bands and they went down a giant slide, jumped on inflatable trampolines, [I jumped and did my first front flip in YEARS, ssshhh], and we went through the corn maze. The corn maze was Asa's idea, and at that point, the kids were melting down with exhaustion and in need of lunch so we were RUNNING through that thing and I absolutely regretted starting it--however, by the end, everyone was laughing, and we were even MORE ready for a good lunch and some cold cider ;) 

Tim and Steph are complete troopers by the way, for doing live with us. Our kids are 4 and 5-years old, and nothing short of magical, easy to hang out with, and totally NOT demanding children. Oh wait, is that YOUR KIDS?!?! Because it ain't mine!!!!!! I'm half kidding- I LOVE our kids, duh. But doing things and outings like this takes work for everyone involved, and I'm just really grateful that these two want to be a part of the crazy. 

Anyway, here are some more fun photos from our trip, really and truly, we had a great day! 

If you live in Kentucky [or may be here visiting friends/family] I definitely recommend going to Eckert's Boyds Orchard. From Louisville to Versailles is a GORGEOUS drive, and a day spent out in the country is ALWAYS a day well spent. Period. 

If you have any questions, feel free to comment or email me! Where has been YOUR favorite orchard/pumpkin patch to go to?? 

The Legacy that Lives

I pulled up to the old yet beautiful farm house with my Mom during my Michigan spring break trip. "Do you want to go see the farm?" she had asked. No one lives here any longer but she still has the key, and I was never able to truly say 'good-bye' after my Grandma's passing. Snow was falling around us (yes, in April!) but we drove the two minutes down the road anyway. She handed me the key and allowed me to be the first to enter. 

The entryway is first, where Gram's coat always hung, and her winter boots caught my eyes. The puffy, grey jacket, her head wrapped in a scarf and those black 'moon boots' are in most of my cold-weather childhood memories. "Wow, it's freezing," I said quietly. "But I can still envision her here." Whenever I walked up the wooden steps to the front porch, I was embraced with an overwhelming sense of love. This was my safe-haven, my home away from home, and as I walked, it all came flooding back.

The moment I walked in the front door, an array of senses always greeted me. This time wasn't much different, except the fact that the house was freezing cold (no utilities anymore) and I knew she wasn't sitting around the corner in her comfy lounge chair. As a kid, she and I spent a lot of our time together in the kitchen. I remember her garden and how I could spend hours helping her pick tomatoes straight from their vines. The kitchen window overlooked the space, where there were mounds of green and a tree-swing that swayed back and forth. She would carefully wash the vegetables in the sink and as she did, I sat at the pull-out wooden cutting board (that mind you, I thought was THE coolest appliance) eating sliced bananas with peanut butter.

There used to be a gray stool. Over the years different house cats thought it was the comfiest nap place, but for all of my childhood, I remember using the stool to sit at the cutting board. Gram would bake cookies like it was her job, as well as pies. As she baked or prepped meals, I sat and listened. I'm sure I chatted her ear off, talking about animals and my then-beginning dream of owning a horse. Bird trinkets and plants always had their home on that window-sill and I remember well her explaining the uniqueness between Cardinals and Bluejays. (The cutting board here isn't the original, luckily my mom actually took that for me to cherish as a keepsake. Pulling it out though regardless, brought back so many vivid pictures as I reminisced.) 

I'd obviously never been in the house with it empty. Things looked so much bigger to me without the antique furniture and large dining room table. The chandelier hung sturdily from its' normal spot. My brother Sean and I spent so many nights around the table, looking into the 'TV room' as we called it. We would play for hours during the day and beg Gram to spend the night. "Call your mom," she would say. "And we'll put out the couch bed for you if she says yes." I'm pretty sure Mom always said yes. Our houses were within walking distance to each other and it was never hard for us to come back home. 

I remember laughter within this room. My Uncle Steve, who lived all of his life here except when he attended college at MSU, would chase us around the table and deep belly laughs would explode from us. Everyone always has that 'one Uncle,' and he was ours. Grandma would close the double doors when Sean and I slept over and as soon as we woke, she would be making our breakfast in the kitchen. If she wasn't preparing food, she was sitting at the dining room table, with her Bible wide open. It was in this place that I learned so much about Jesus. I grew up with God loving parents, but I spent so many hours reading aloud from the large print Bible she had. We would memorize Scripture together and she would tell me stories about the people it talked about. We also listened to books on tape so regularly--I loved sitting beside her, having moments of peace and quiet.

The last memory I have with her, is in this room. My son Pierson was thirteen months old, and she was sipping some coffee at the table. I was pregnant with our daughter Reese and she rubbed my belly. "Can you see me?" I asked. "Oh I can see. That's a nice sized baby in there," she said. Reese was due just two months later but something inside of me knew Grandma wouldn't get to meet her. Pierson sat beside her, playing with her house phone. I swear whenever she saw him, she suddenly looked ten years younger. He brought her so much joy, so much life. When I left for college and would visit the Farm, I would say to Gram, "I'll see you next time I come home." She would shake her head and respond, "Oh I'm not sure about that, we'll have to see." I would laugh and hug her with my entire body weight as she sat in her armchair. My mom's phone call, a month before Reese was born, told me the news I had been dreading for so long. I have entries in a journal that I started keeping as a very young little girl, that wrote the prayer: "Please let Grandma live one more year," each New Years Eve. Finally, August 2013, Jesus decided He had answered that request long enough and it was time to take her Home. 

As I walked, Mom started to share her memories. There's no other person I could have done this with than my mother--Gram was her very best friend. They spoke daily on the phone, multiple times a day, just as I do with her. She told me how as kids, they listened through the vents to their parents conversations, how she sat at the same pull-out cutting board as she watched her mom de-seed fresh green beans. Through these walls, deep within the wood and wallpaper, my mom grew from child to woman; from daughter to mother; from mother to grandma herself. 

We walked around the corner and there was Gram's teeny tiny bedroom. I laughed and said, "I still don't know how she ever shared this room with Grandpa!" I was six months old when my Grandpa passed away. The memories I have here include lying in Gram's full-sized water bed. We would listen to lullabies on tape or stories being told, and she would always pray aloud. I remember being semi freaked out when I realized she had dentures and she would need to take them out each night. She also had hearing aides that she needed to take out, but she always waited until the last minute when I slept over. 

We walked to the stairs. For whatever reason, holidays are what stood out to me when I got to them. The wooden steps, they seemed never-ending when I was small. I remember a Christmas spent there with a ton of my cousins, some even from California. I was so young, but I remember cracking up at my cousin Sherry, who was one from Cali. Sean and I and some of the others sat in the stairwell there and she told us all sorts of stories, including one about a guardian angel. I then remember (and am now laughing at the weirdness in my sporadic memories) my Uncle Steve teaching us the song, "Comet - it makes your teeth turn green! Comet - it tastes like gasoline! Comet - it makes you vomit...So buy some and vomit, today!" We thought this was hysterical and went around the house chanting the rhyme. 

Upstairs there are two bedrooms and a bathroom. My mom switched bedrooms as a child, but in the blue one, she said she spent hours writing and journaling. My Grandpa even turned her little closet into a "writing nook," and strung an extension cord uniquely so that she could have a lamp.

She sighed as we walked through and said she would be awake until sometimes three in the morning (as she got older) just writing here. She told me about her childhood fear, which I had never known: she wasn't ever scared of monsters under the bed, but foxes! She would run and jump from the hallway into the bed. It amazed me to think of the children who once lived here. The bedrooms that housed them, the memories that exist for the eight who called it a home. I always either slept with Gram in her water bed or on the couch bed with my brother. I never came upstairs much, but it's so sweet to think of my mom here, once a little girl, journaling her fears and happiness.  

When Mom had originally asked if I wanted to visit the Farm, she warned me that it would be cold. At this point I was starting to shiver a little because I hadn't taken into consideration that seriously... there was no HEAT in the house anymore. We made our way back to the stairs and I told her I wanted to sit just for a second. I wanted to look into the dining room and envision Gram all over again.

Like everybody else, my life isn't and wasn't perfect. I remember many fights that I had at home, that resulted in me running across the corn field to this place. Gram would hold me tightly and now as I write remembering, tears are finding their escape. She had the firmest grip--"Let's just pray," she would say. On her lap I would sit, even in my teenager years, and she would stroke my hair and listen to my sorrows. When she met my husband Asa, she would squeeze him tightly too, and I knew she was relieved that I had found him. 

Grandma was a widow for twenty eight years. One of my visits with her, I found a handful of her old journals. "Gram, can I have one of these?" I asked. "Oh sure," she responded. "I'm not sure what's in there that's interesting but you're welcome." I took one leather bound journal and the moment I began it, I couldn't put it down. One of the entries she wrote from the tree-swing. She talked about how she "missed her John." Not once did I ever hear my Grandma complain. Not once did I look at her in her elderly age and think she was ever weak. 

Often, I have days with my two toddlers, who are fifteen months apart, and I want to scream. They are wonderful and hilarious, but gosh they are exhausting and draining too. One of the times I remember her the most is when I am mopping our hundred year old wooden floors--I remember her voice, about how a "good old fashioned mop and bucket of soapy water cleans the best." I usually pause and close my eyes...Gram raised EIGHT children in this house--EIGHT. She had a servant's heart, a righteous laugh and warm hugs for anyone who was blessed to enter. 

The old barns are such an important part of my memories as well. At one point my Uncle had horses there (they of course had them when my mom was young too), but I remember first horse rides, first horse falls, and the moment I fell in love with a Thoroughbred mix. Through the pastures I played 'tag' with a beautiful Arabian colt, I was trampled by a foal, and I had to say my first good-bye to a beautiful white horse named Joy, who suffered from colic. 

On the silo my Grandpa had hand painted this verse: "Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures," (1 Corinthians 15:30). Mom and I walked through the barns, stopping to talk about the many sheep that were born and raised there; the hay still somehow smelled fresh and I while I walked, I managed to get some poop on the bottom of my boot. "Only you," my mom laughed. We looked around the empty fields. No kittens, no ewes, no horses, no fences. So what still exists? Her legacy. Almost the entire city of Allegan knows and remembers Wilma Rouse, as well as her husband John. 

Now more than ever, do I believe that God allows the seasons in our lives to change just as He does with the seasons in nature. Right now, spring is trying to figure out its' path--do the trees bloom, or will it continue to snow a while longer? Hearts may ache, and we may question why, but our Creator knows. There may be pain and sadness with sharing this story, but there are also beautiful stories and happy memories that need to be heard and THOSE will never die.