Thanks Given!

How I love these three goofballs! I can't imagine my life without them.

My wonderful children, Dylan (age 21), Sarah (age 29), and Jacob (age 27).

Sunday, November 25, 2018

I have been richly blessed in many ways throughout my life, many of those blessings unexpected and unearned, and none more so than in recent years. Yet always, always, the greatest blessing of all has been the privilege of mothering my three crazy kiddos. That means the best holidays have always been the ones that found all my children together under one roof again.

Clowning around with Mom right before Jacob heads back home.

This Thanksgiving was one of those occasions. Now that Jacob is living in Arizona again, just a three-hour drive away, I hope to see many more family-togetherness events throughout the years to come.

Adding Dad (Mark) and the family pooch Diego to the mix.

As usual, we weren't able to celebrate Thanksgiving with all the trimmings on the actual, official holiday date of Thursday, November 22nd. Jacob, Chris, and I were the only ones who had that day off. Everyone else's work schedules conflicted so badly that it was tough to find a slot with enough unscheduled time to squeeze in a holiday celebration with everyone present.

I love the roaster I bought last year! So much easier to roast a 24-pounder!

Sarah and Dylan always work Thanksgiving, thanks to the annual retail madness of Black Friday (and, naturally, they were scheduled for opposing hours so they weren't not-working at the same time during any part of the day). Mark is ordinarily off on Thursdays, but all the staff at Denny's were told "everyone works" on Thanksgiving. Jake usually works most holidays at the resort because, let's face it, that's when many people like to travel. In fact, on the day after Thanksgiving he received a well-earned promotion to Guest Services Supervisor!

So Jacob stayed in the Valley and enjoyed feasting on multiple meals with his aunts, uncles, and cousins, while I spent most of the day alone and so, I presume, did Chris. I think he actually spent his time chasing down Pokemon on Pokemon Go!

We feasted on green bean casserole, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, turkey

and stuffing, and rolls, followed by pumpkin, apple, and chocolate cream pies.

We could have used our usual Sunday family dinner slot, except that Jacob needed to head back home earlier since he had to work Monday morning. Plus, Jake doesn't get off work until 3:00 on Sundays, so there wasn't enough overlapping free-time for a proper feast. 

Besides, I didn't think it was a good idea for Jacob to drive home on a stuffed belly (carb-crash might lead to a car-crash), especially with darkness now falling around 5:30, and more elk out near the highway. In the end, we had to settle for a late dinner on Saturday night, November 24th. Dylan was scheduled to work until 7:00, although, thankfully, he was able to arrange to get off an hour earlier.

Store-bought potato rolls and moist, yummy turkey.

Jacob drove up from Mesa on Saturday morning and got into town before 11:00. He stopped first at Walmart to visit his two siblings, Sarah and Dylan, on the job. After having lunch with Sarah at the McDonald's inside Walmart, he traveled on to my house. He helped me prepare the turkey for roasting and the green bean casserole for baking, as well as dicing ten pounds of potatoes for boiling and mashing after I'd scrubbed them.

Saturday, November 24, 2108 - Gathered around the table for our feast: 

Jake, Mark, Sarah, Mary, Chris, and Jacob. (Photo by Dylan)

Chris ended up with a chance to earn some extra money by working until 3:00 on Saturday, which he decided to do since Sarah was working anyway. After she got off work, she picked him up. By the time they arrived around 5:30, the turkey was done and it was time to begin cooking in earnest. Sarah prepped the rolls for heating and Mark made the stuffing while Jacob labored over the mashing of potatoes. 

Sarah also made the turkey gravy. It was only her second time to do so, and for the second time it was perfect! My gravy attempts are pretty much hit-and-miss, so the gravy crown goes to Sarah!

One more time from the opposite end of the table, with Dylan in the shot:

Chris, Jacob, Dylan, Jake, Mark, and Sarah.

Finally, the food was ready and everyone was here! We loaded our plates and gathered around the table, where we shared the things we were especially thankful for this year (which elicited both laughter and tears) before we blessed the food. The year has held many challenges for each of us, but our blessings have been most bounteous!

Then we dug in! Well, most of us did. Dylan had to go for a second plate right away, because he'd cleaned his first plate while we were all talking. So much for the art of delaying gratification!

Lots of Thanksgiving leftovers meant easy lunch and dinner on Sunday.

It was a great feast with great companionship. By meal's end, we were uncomfortably stuffed (why do we do that to ourselves?), so much so that no one (except Mark) had room for the pies I'd baked the previous night. The kids played one of their favorite games, Skip-Bo, and enjoyed the generally raucous fun of their typical get-togethers. It was after 10:00 when the party broke up, and only then because both Mark and Jake had to work at 6:00 the next morning.

For a late breakfast on Sunday, we had eggs, sausage, and potato pancakes made from leftover mashed potatoes. Dylan, Sarah, and Chris came over to spend time with Jacob before his departure. Since Jacob wasn't hungry for lunch by the time he left at 2:40, we all enjoyed a slice of pie or two before he was on his way. Later, we had leftover rolls with leftover turkey and mayonnaise as mini-sandwiches for lunch.

Dinner, of course, was a cinch: reheated leftovers! In the end, all that was left was most of a pumpkin pie, half a dozen rolls, and two zip-lock bags of turkey.

Our Thanksgiving togetherness ended with Jacob returning to Mesa.

It's always so hard to see these holidays end with everyone going their separate ways. Nonetheless, I'm very proud of my children and their adult accomplishments. An empty nest requires an adjustment, but it really is a blessing. As long as the baby birds occasionally fly back to visit the nest!

My solitary breakfast on the actual Thanksgiving holiday, Thursday: 

a ham-and-cheese omelet with a side of bacon.

I was thirty-five when I gave birth to my firstborn, Sarah. Before that, I'd pretty much accepted that I was never going to experience motherhood and would be alone the rest of my life. I adore my many wonderful nieces and nephews and always took a measure of joy from them, but it could never be quite the same as having your own children.

Because of that long wait, I often reflect on what my life would be like if Sarah, Jacob, and Dylan had never come into my world. Not that women or men who don't have children, whether by choice or chance, have empty or meaningless lives--far from it! For me, though, the mere fact that my children exist in this world is a source of fulfillment, and their presence in my life enriches my soul in ways I can't even express. I'm so grateful for them!

Thanksgiving Thursday wasn't a complete miss. Mark and I went to Denny's.

I accidentally said "medium-well" when I meant "medium-rare." Ugh.

We even splurged for dessert. Strawberry-citrus cheesecake...sigh.

Shivers!

The leaves of our next-door neighbors' aspen turn gold in the fall.

October 30, 2018

It's a cold snap! When I take Mark to work in the mornings, the temperature is anywhere between 18 and 23 degrees. I makes me all a-shiver, especially since my car's heater doesn't really warm up until we've gone at least three miles. On some days, the temperature only reaches a high of 35-36 degrees. There's always a beautiful, bright-blue, sunny sky with a few small, white clouds over our heads, but the air is chill and the gusting winds bite right through my jacket.

Before we left for our family vacation on Sunday, October 21st, the weather was still pretty nice, despite two early snowfalls. The deciduous trees in my yard not only had all their leaves intact, but the leaves were mostly still green. Then we were gone for eight days, and everything changed. 

It was already dark when we returned home on the night of October 28th, so it wasn't until the next morning that I got quite a surprise, looking out the living room window. What a difference eight days makes! Not only had all the leaves on my oak trees turned golden-brown, but many of them had already hit the ground, leaving bare patches on the branches. That was the quickest turning-of-the-leaves and leaf-dropping I'd ever experienced in our twenty-nine autumns here in the White Mountains!

The two small oaks in my front yard on October 30, 2018.

Which meant, of course, that it was time to get out the rakes. Fallen leaves signal the start of joyful family togetherness, with piles of leaves to play in, echoing sounds of teasing and laughter on the chilly air, and hot cocoa simmering on the stove for everyone to enjoy, along with s'mores prepared over the fire pit, at the end of a job well done. Right? To be honest, I doubt my children remember those piles of leaves and pine needles with much delight. It is a lot of hard work.

The same twin oaks, viewed from a different angle.

My property isn't exactly huge, only a little more than one-third of an acre, but it is covered with trees, including many giant pines and great old oaks. I love my trees. Deeply. Madly. Passionately. Nonetheless, it never fails to amaze me how thickly the leaves and pine needles can carpet the ground every year.

And I don't mean just once a year. Yes, for our deciduous oaks it happens only in the fall. That is, indeed, the most challenging cleanup. However, many people don't realize that evergreens shed their needles, too, and not only in autumn. Pine needles are actually the tree's "leaves," and they do eventually turn brown and drop off. The difference is, pine needles last longer than regular leaves (about three years for our ponderosa pines), and they don't all fall at the same time. Hence, the trees appear to be ever-green.

These two giant oaks are at the north side of my house,

right outside my home office. October 30, 2018

Pretty much any strong wind will knock the dead needles off the trees, which can happen any time of year, but the raking seems to be most needed in the spring (pre-fire-danger season) and the fall (pre-snow season). The problem has now become this: who's going to do it? Our children are adults now, living in their own homes and leading their own busy lives. Mark and I are capable of doing some of the work, but on a limited basis, thanks to problems with his back and feet, as well as my own back, hip, and knee issues. It's limiting and frustrating.

Back in April, a small army of teen boys from church tackled my yard as a service project, raking up needles, disposing of dead branches that had been removed, and hauling off a small pile of items that needed to go to the dump. (I blogged about them in May.) They did an awesome job and we were so grateful for their cheerful, hard work. Still, one cannot expect such charitable service on a regular basis.

While I pondered our dilemma, a fourteen-year-old girl posted an "ad" on our church Facebook page. She was earning money for the high school's Spanish Club trip to Peru this coming spring, and she invited interested parties to hire her to clean up their yards and haul away the leaves. That last part drew me in. Raking leaves is one thing, but trying to haul it all away now that we no longer have a truck is a huge issue. We can fill literally fifty or more leaf bags when we rake the entire yard, which we stack neatly against the fence and toss in the trash can every week, one or two bags at a time, until we finally break down and borrow a truck so we can finally be rid of them.

Our young hiree tackled the wide driveway first, clearing it nicely.

November 10, 2018

So I texted her and arranged to have her come when our oaks were finally bare of leaves. That day finally arrived late last week, and she came over on Saturday, getting right to work. She did a great job, working alone for most of the morning. I noticed that she used a leaf blower mounted on her back, backpack-style. Recently, I'd considered buying a leaf blower, but I wasn't sure how effective it would be against pine needles. I asked her about it, since it was obviously working for her, and she explained that it moved needles well, as long as they weren't too deep. If you raked (or blasted with a leaf blower) the yard twice a year, it worked fine. (Guess what I plan to purchase next spring!)

Here's the young lady & her dad, who arrived to help with his truck & huge trailer.

The twin oaks' branches are bare but, oddly, the apple tree at far right is still green.

Her father (I've known their family since this young lady, their firstborn, was a toddler) came by to help her finish up for the final two hours. He owns a very large trailer, and together they worked on loading the piles up for transport to the green waste station. I greatly admire this young lady's work ethic and her father's willingness to support her efforts. My yard looks amazing now. At least, until the winds of late spring begin to blow...

It's a done deal. Our yard looks wonderful on November 11, 2018.

Sarah Turns Twenty-nine

Nov 7, 2018: Sarah with the present she gave herself on her birthday,

October 27th, while on vacation in Las Vegas, Nevada.

This year, Sarah's birthday fell on the final full day of our Las Vegas vacation: Saturday, October 27th. We made sure the day she turned 29 didn't get lost in the vacation shuffle, planning a special dinner and cake for that evening. We all wished her happy birthday when we got up that morning, and even Jacob remembered to call her from Mesa first thing. (He had started a new job on Monday, at the start of our vacation week, so he wasn't able to join us this year.) Still, it was not a typical Carter birthday celebration by any means.

My big regret was that, exhausted from a full week of busy vacation fun, I forgot to take birthday photos. We were on the go-go-go and I missed taking pictures of the special dinner Chris had planned and prepared for Sarah (shepherds pie, which was yummy). I missed the annual shot of Sarah posing with her birthday cake, a three-flavor ice cream cake she'd chosen from the Las Vegas Walmart. And, sadly, there were no gifts for her to open on her big day. (I'd offered to buy a souvenir of her choice, but she's not that into souvenirs.)

I like to sit on the side of the pool, put my feet in the water, and take pictures.

Taken on our last night in Ls Vegas, October 27, 2018.

Still, the day was memorable in other ways, though it started off slow. We spent most of the day relaxing around the condo after our week of tourist madness, watching a DVD of The Greatest Showman, making a final Walmart shopping trip, and enjoying the dinner Chris made for us. Sarah's wish for after dinner was to go swimming at the resort's pools and float down the lazy river. We'd been so busy all week, the kids had only gone swimming one night previous to her birthday. So we all trooped down to the pool and everyone had a great time for two full hours. All of my children, and their dad, love to swim.

October 27, 2018: Jake, Dylan, Chris, Justice, Mark, and Sarah in the pool.

One person in our family who didn't love to swim was Jake. Due to a near-drowning experience in his childhood, we'd never been able to coax him near a pool. He always stayed on the sidelines, feeling a little dejected, when everyone else was in the water, whether in a pool or at the beach. I couldn't even convince him to sit on the side with me, our feet paddling in the water. Then, during our Las Vegas trip, a small miracle occurred. On the first family swim night, he decided to give it a try. He found the pool a little intimidating, yet also kind of wonderful. 

Jake floats along the lazy river, shepherded by Chris and Dylan.

On the night of Sarah's birthday, Jake unexpectedly stepped it up. He decided to join everyone in the lazy river, which has a pretty strong, rapid current. He began by riding a float, but after it dumped him off a couple of times, he realized the water no longer held terror for him. In the end, he was the last one out of the pool, reluctant to leave.

My family on the lazy river: Dylan, Jake, Justice, Chris, Sarah, and Mark.

A beautiful fountain between the resort's two big pools.

After everyone had showered and changed, we headed over to the Fremont Street Experience. It's always been one of our family's favorite events during our Vegas vacations, but this time the fun family flavor we'd so enjoyed there in the past was largely missing. It was late when we arrived, around 10:45, plus it was the weekend before Halloween, so I'm sure that explains some of the change. But certainly not all.

Even the new Fremont Street Experience sign is a bit racier than before.

It seemed that nearly everyone there was in costume, which might have made it more fun, except at least half the people were drunk and about a quarter of the costumes were vulgar and/or obscene. We witnessed many strippers, male and female, plying their trade on the sidewalk. We also passed several young women who wore nothing more than nipple tassels above the waist. The crowds were so heavy that at times we couldn't even move forward.

It used to be that we could bring our young children here without fear of such sights, even late at night. We could enjoy the Viva Vision and music on the display above our heads and explore the many street performers and artists and vendor carts all along the street. This time, there were were hardly any artists or carts to be found, and the few remaining performers were mostly crude, not to mention less than impressive.

The overhead Viva Vision was still there, although louder than I remembered!

Nonetheless, we made the best of the situation. We searched for the "Hand of Faith" in the Golden Nugget Casino, a 61-lb gold nugget found in Australia, as well as the largest gold nugget in existence. (There was once one that was larger, but it had been sold and broken up.) That search was particularly fun when we met a security guard who took an interest in us and personally escorted us to the nugget's display, cracking jokes and calling me "Boss" the whole way. Then we went into Binion's Casino to see their display of one million dollars, in hundred-dollar bills, in a secured case. And we did come upon one talented street artist, whom we stood and watched as he painted three amazing paintings in less than thirty minutes.

The Hand of Faith nugget on display at the Golden Nugget Casino.

In fact, this artist's work was so stunning that Sarah decided to purchase one of the paintings we'd watched him produce, all in black and white and shades of gray. It stood out because his other paintings had all been quite colorful. I teased her that she ended up getting herself a birthday present! The paintings each sold for only forty dollars, plus she bought a frame to go with it.

A closer look at Sarah's new painting.

One thing we'd have all liked to do while on Fremont Street (except Chris, who doesn't like to be scared) was a new attraction, the Fear the Walking Dead: Survival haunted tour. It looked frightfully fun (Sarah and I are huge Walking Dead fans), but the cost was $28 per person, and our funds were dwindling by the end of our week-long vacation. In fact, our original plan had been to vacation in Branson, Missouri, but we switched it to Vegas when we realized money was going to be unusually tight for all of us this year.

 

A Jeep parked near the Fear the Walking Dead: Survival haunted tour.

We were on Fremont Street for almost an hour and a half, with most of that time spent watching the artist and fighting through the crowds, and by then we'd had enough. We battled our way through the press to the parking garage and headed back to the resort. Along our way, we made one final stop at the Las Vegas sign, this time to say goodbye, since we'd be leaving the next day.

 

One last stop at the Las Vegas sign, this time at night.

It was almost 1:30 a.m. when we got back to our condo. We sang Happy Birthday in hushed voices, due to the lateness of the hour, and then we ate the entire ice cream cake. Sarah opened her one birthday card (from me), and at 2:00 we all crawled into our beds. In the morning we'd have to be up, packed up, and loaded up by our noon checkout time.

A view of residential lights in Vegas beyond the resort on our final night,

as seen from the breezeway outside the front door of our third-floor condo.

Once we were all back home, last week, Mark and the guys went shopping for Sarah's cards and gifts from them. They presented their gifts to her at our Sunday family dinner, eight days after her actual birthday. Mark gave her the little two-bears-in-a-canoe sculpture. Dylan and Jake gave her the Harry Potter History of Magic book. She loves them both! As for me, I'll be giving her a rather hard-to-obtain DoTerra essential oil that isn't currently available, but I hope to have it for her before Christmas.

Nov 4, 2018: Sarah with two of her late gifts, eight days after her birthday.

No, not a typical Carter birthday at all, but one I hope will always be memorable for my sweet Sarah!

Harvest

Home Sweet Home, as summer ends and autumn is just days away.

Sept 16, 2018

It was just one week ago that I tried one of the apples from my tree and surmised that it was very nearly ripe. I'd supposed, wrongly, that I had a few weeks left until it was time to pull the young apples off the tree. Then, five days later, I walked out in the yard and discovered dozens of apples lying on the ground all around the trunk, some already turning brown and others covered with industrious, tiny ants. The time to harvest was now.

Some apples just couldn't wait to be picked, so they jumped ship.

So Sarah and Chris came over a little bit early yesterday, before our weekly family dinner, and helped me pick as many of the apples as we could reach. Actually, they did most of the work. I got the lower branches, but then I got busy with my camera and left the rest to them. Our neighbor, Gary, was watering his front lawn while we worked, and he kindly loaned us an apple-picker for the higher branches. I didn't even know such a tool existed!

Chris goes after the apples in the upper branches.

Chris got out my ladder and worked on getting the apples in the upper branches, which was quite a job. Sarah took the apples from him and loaded them into the ice chest, as well as picking up any off the ground that seemed unbruised and unafflicted by insects. The next chore will be to wash the apples and place them in the refrigerator drawer, where they should keep for four to six weeks. Or three to four weeks for those that are russeted. However, since we're heading out of town again in a few days, I hope I can get them washed, air-dried, and into the fridge before we get on the road. There's so much to do!

Bounty enough to fill the bottom of the ice chest with tiny apples.

The next question is this: What am I going to do with them?

During the week following Labor Day, there was a little chill in the air, especially in the mornings and evenings. Everyone started waxing poetic about fall and daydreaming longingly of Halloween and Thanksgiving and sweaters and a blaze in the fireplace. But this week we had another little heatwave, with highs in the upper-80s and lows only in the mid-50s. Maybe we'll get that chill back next week and autumn will begin in earnest. Our annual Fall Festival is less than two weeks away!

Gary's tree next-door is already starting to get its fall foliage.

Meanwhile, my trees are holding onto their green leaves (although one of our neighbor's trees now has some patches of gold). It's always hard for me to imagine that, within a couple of months, the branches will be bare, and the lovely, cool greenery will be only a memory.

A canopy of green, viewed from beneath two large oaks at the side of my house.

Sept 10, 2018

Living in an evergreen ecosystem as we do, you wouldn't think the changing of the leaves would be such a huge deal, but we do have enough oaks and aspens and other deciduous trees to allow some yellow, gold, and brown to adorn our trees before the winter winds carry them away. While we don't get the vibrant oranges and reds seen in New England, there's still enough change to inspire visitors to drive to our community every fall so they can enjoy the crispy weather and the colorful leaves.

Then we get out the rakes. And not just for the fallen leaves! Sadly, evergreens may be ever green, but they do lose their needles. In massive quantities. In fact, we had some strong winds this week that left my yard covered in a carpet of pine needles, and it will only get deeper over the coming month.

These two pines in the driveway have a lot of dead branches.

The cleanup will include more than just leaves and pine needles. During some of our worst monsoon storms this summer, heavy winds tore a lot of the dead branches from the pines in my yard, especially two that stand in the middle of my driveway. Last November, when the men from church came to put on my new metal roof, a few took time to trim away most of the lower dead branches. Someday, though, I'll need to hire a professional to remove the dead branches that hang dangerously high above the ground.

Some of those dead branches were removed by Mother Nature.

Meanwhile, after a powerful microburst exploded above downtown Lakeside in July and ripped several giant pine trees out of the ground and tossed them across the roads like kindling, I'll just be grateful that all we have to deal with are some broken branches!

July 27, 2018: Tall pines block Niels Hansen Lane.

(I was on my way to the post office, one block away.)

Another giant pine blocks Church Lane after the microburst.

This enormous root system was ripped right out of the ground.

First Apple

Sept 10, 2018: Most of the apples have their red coats now.

Again, I'm a novice farmer here. I have no idea how to tell if an apple is ripe. I trust that my local grocer wouldn't sell them if they weren't ripe, but an apple from my own tree... Usually I forget about them until it's so late in the season that I'm finding them on the ground. By then, they're a bit too ripe.

They aren't the type of apples that become solid red, but they spread the

red over the green beneath. A few haven't even started blushing yet.

So I decided to be proactive this year and try one of my apples as soon as they appear to be ready. They're small apples, so size is not an indicator. They won't turn solid red, so that doesn't help. I don't even know what type of apples they are. Comparing them to online charts, they most resemble the pictures and descriptors of Fuji apples, but I can't be sure. Who knows if Fuji apples can even thrive in our mountain climate? (Did they actually come from Mount Fuji?)

I'm going to guess they'll be fully ripe by late Sept or early Oct.

At any rate, on Monday I chose one of the larger little apples within my reach and gave it the tiniest of tugs. It came right off, which seemed promising. I took it inside to wash and examine. It was a perfect specimen, without blemish. So small, it fit neatly into the palm of my hand.

This was one of the larger apples, just big enough to fit in my palm.

Then I sliced the apple into four quarters and took a bite. It was crisp and mildly sweet, not grainy at all. It was less sweet than I'd expected, based on apples I'd sampled in previous years, so it may be that they need until the end of this month, or even early October, to reach peak sweetness. They'll need to be picked by then anyway, because the autumn frost will soon follow. But I'd say that most of the apples are ripe enough for picking now, if one prefers a less sweet apple.

Barely ripe enough to eat, mildly sweet, but tasty.

Meanwhile, I gobbled down that apple in a few bites, and it was yummy. Maybe I'll follow that old "apple a day" rule for a couple of weeks. Then it'll be time to get out the ladder and officially harvest my apples, bottom to top, for the first time. I'm thinking some apple crisps might be fun to make...

The Cradle Board

Sarah and Chris with their new cradleboard and baby doll, Isabel.

September 10, 2018

Over the years, Mark's grandmother, Helen, was very clear about which personal possessions she wanted to be passed down to her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren upon her passing. She had two specific items that she told us many, many times were to be handed on to her very first great-grandchild, Sarah.

First was the organ, where Helen and Sarah so often sat together when Sarah was a toddler, "playing" (pounding random keys) and "singing" along (usually more like howling). Sadly, that organ--which I did see in the garage when I first walked through the Mesa house in April, after inheriting the house in March--had disappeared by the time we'd evicted the former residents and moved Jacob in on May 31st. Supposedly, the woman who'd been "squatting" in the house for nearly six years, Renee, had told Mark's Aunt Wilma that she was moving the  organ to storage for "safekeeping." Removing something from the house, which she knew didn't belong to her, was a clear act of criminal theft. By July, a notice had arrived at the house, stating that Renee's storage unit was going to be auctioned off due to nonpayment. I'm sure the organ has been either trashed or sold to a total stranger by now.

Second, Helen had a huge collection of original Cabbage Patch dolls. Literally, dozens of dolls signed on their cushy butts by Javier Roberts, with their tiny little "birth certificates." Most of them were to go to Mark's cousin, Maryhelen, but Helen had selected one special doll that she made sure we all knew was to become Sarah's someday.

I can't say for certain where all those dolls went, but neither Maryhelen nor Sarah ever took possession of a single one. The prevailing opinion is that Mark's former girlfriend, Diane, sold them off to support her prescription-drug addiction after Mark went to prison in Sept 2011, five months after Helen's death (for a burglary Diane admitted to me that Mark did not commit, but had confessed to doing in order to protect her). While he was locked up, Diane also sold everything Mark owned, including his truck, as well as trying to get Helen's house put in her name. Thankfully, Mark was wise enough to refuse her request that he give her power of attorney. Diane was so angry that she refused to communicate with Mark for the three and a half years he served for her crime. Yet, as soon as he was released and moved here to be near his children, she tracked him down and demanded that he get her moved back into Helen's house. (By this time, I'd begun working with the family lawyer to sort it all out.) Mark stood strong against her demands, and Diane finally went away.

We figured that all Sarah would ever receive from Helen's estate were the thousands of happy memories they'd made together and their mutual love of violin (Helen bought the $1,500 violin that Sarah uses in performances to this day). Then, about six weeks ago, one of Jacob's new Mesa neighbors saw him in his front yard as she was driving past, and she pulled over to talk to him. She told him that, a few years before Helen's death, Helen had given her a Kachina doll for safekeeping, which she'd wanted to be passed on to Sarah one day. This neighbor went on to tell Jacob how happy she was to see Jacob was taking care of Helen's home, restoring it to the nice place it always had been during Helen's lifetime. She felt that now was the right time to hand the doll on to Jacob's sister. She invited Jacob to stop by her house some evening for a visit and to pick up the doll.

This is my newest Kachina, a Navajo "Sun Dancer."

I was mystified. I have three Kachinas of my own (Buffalo Dancer, Eagle Dancer, and Sun Dancer), so I'm very familiar with these traditional Hopi/Navajo dolls. However, I couldn't recall Helen ever owning a Kachina. True, I rarely entered Helen's home during the last four years of her life, due to Mark and me being divorced in 2006, but the neighbor had described this Kachina as being on the wall in the corner of Helen's living room for "many, many years." I told Jacob to send me a photo of the doll as soon as he picked it up.

This photo by Jacob revealed that the doll wasn't a Kachina at all.

No, it wasn't a Kachina, but as soon as I received the photo, I remembered the cradleboard. Not so much the doll, but I was with Helen when she purchased the authentic Apache cradleboard from a local antique dealer, way back in the 1990s. 

When my family moved to Arizona in 1980, it took me a while to appreciate the stark, unique beauty of the Southwest, especially the desert. Eventually, though, I decided that I would someday decorate my own home with Southwestern decor. Anything from cowboy art to Native American artifacts. After we moved here to the White Mountains, I purchased my first Kachina and started looking for a cradleboard to display. I mentioned this to Helen during one of her visits to our family. She was so taken with the idea that she led us from one shop to another on a cradleboard search. Finally, she found and purchased the Apache cradleboard above, the same one she'd left with her neighbor for safekeeping more than a decade later. 

My own search took years longer, but I finally found the one that now hangs in my bedroom, as seen in the picture below.

My swaddled doll is in a cradleboard minus the board.

While I wouldn't have recognized Helen's Native doll without the cradleboard, I do recall that Helen searched for and found a baby-doll to put in the Apache infant carrier, one that looked like it could be a Native American child. Seeing it now, I wonder if it's another Cabbage Patch baby. I guess we need to check its butt for a signature... However, this wasn't one of the dolls Sarah played with as a child. For that, Helen had given her a pair of "twin" baby dolls, one white and one black. The black baby was hands-down Sarah's favorite, as evidenced by home videos. She was always carrying and cuddling that little baby-doll.

During Jacob's most recent visit, he brought the cradleboard to Sarah. The carrier and the doll were both a little grimy and a lot dusty, so we cleaned them off (accidentally removing the doll's eyelashes in the process). Then I found a thick, soft, neutral-colored baby blanket to swaddle the doll in before lacing her into the board as best I could. There's an art to tying a baby securely into a cradleboard, which art I do not possess. I also left one of the doll's hands free, something no self-respecting Native woman would ever allow, but I thought it was cute like that.

Great-grandma's wish has been fulfilled, at last!

While I occasionally still see an Apache infant swaddled into a cradleboard by a Native mother or grandmother in our community, it's increasingly rare. Most young moms of all cultures now opt to protect their babies with modern infant carriers and car seats. Nonetheless, I think that cradleboards represent the universal desire of mothers everywhere to protect our beloved children. It's a beautiful piece of history.

And I'm so happy that Sarah is able to reconnect, finally, with a piece of family history that she shared with her great-grandma, Helen. I don't doubt that Helen, waiting in the next life to embrace her grandchildren again one day, is glad her little cradleboard baby has found her way home to Sarah at last.