Flag is Up…

We had to buy a mailbox and attach it to an existing post so our mail could start being delivered. Our neighbor let us use part of a new board he attached to the existing cross piece. It was nice to meet him. All three of our Simple Box containers are being delivered today. Our kids are arriving this weekend to help us unload them. Soon I’ll be saying things like: “Why didn’t I get rid of that?”, “I can’t believe I bothered packing that”, “I was wondering where I packed that”, “Hello old friend”, “I don’t even fit in that anymore, why did I pack it?”, “Where in the world will we put that?” and last but not least, “I’m happy to have my stuff all in one place again”.

Thursday is internet hookup day. I will still be scarce for a while.

Rain…

…from the clouds and from my eyes.

30 years in Bothell/Kenmore. So many memories as we say our goodbye. This iconic sign used to be in another location and our family took a photo by it years ago before marriages and grandchildren. I’m going to track down that photo once we are unpacked to show the before and after. This week has been an emotional week for me. Tears come unexpectedly. We left early Sunday morning for good to Colville. More of our journey and new adventures coming soon. Thank you, thank you to all of my praying bloggy friends for upholding us in this new journey. I thank God for you!

“Lord, Speak to Me” ~ Hymn

Lord, Speak to Me

Lord, speak to me that I may speak
In living echoes of Thy tone;
As Thou hast sought, so let me seek
Thy erring children lost and lone.

O teach me, Lord, that I may teach
The precious things Thou dost impart;
And wing my words, that they may reach
The hidden depths of many a heart.

O fill me with Thy fullness, Lord,
Until my very heart o’erflow
In kindling thought and glowing word
Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.

O use me, Lord, use even me,
Just as Thou wilt and when and where;
Until Thy blessed face I see,
Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share. Amen.

Words: Frances R. Havergal

 

Weekend Roundup ~ “K”

 Starts with “K.”  

A Favorite. 

King Size.

Starts with K: Our daughter Katie and her Knight in shining armor.

A favorite: Our kids on a shore of Lake Roosevelt with the city of Kettle Falls across the lake.

King Size: King size hand next to that newborn foot.

Parting shot: My oldest sister, Kathy, who is very clever, kind and knowledgeable.

Linking up with Tom The Backroads Traveller for Weekend Roundup. Thanks Tom!

 

What to Do? What to Do?

I’m wondering what I should do with my three remaining days of living in the Puget Sound area of Washington State. We recorded yesterday and received our keys at 6pm. It was getting dark when we headed over to take a quick walk-thru to drop off a small load of stuff. We (myself, son, DIL and grandgirlie). Dear remained on the west side of the mountains with responsibilities to wrap up.

This is our new driveway and I went to the street to take photos of the drive for our container delivery people. Addy spotted me and made a run for it to join me. I had to catch her at full speed before she toppled over! This was yesterday.

Today I drove the six hours from Colville to Lynnwood with my companion on CD being Detective Chief Inspector Vera Stanhope. Now I’m deciding what I want to do on this side of the mountains before we leave to our new home on Sunday. We are moving from a major population area of close to 4 million to a community of about 5,000.

Before I left on Dear’s birthday to head to Colville to deliver paperwork and a check to close on our new home we celebrated Dear’s Medicare birthday with our kids on the western side of the mountains.

Tuesdays With Moisi ~ 2

Our Pop’s story in his own words and translated into English continued…

In October of 1929 the Communist authorities issued edicts forcing the collectivization of all farms in Russia.  We were to surrender all our earthly possessions to the authorities. There was to be no individual ownership of anything.  We realized that we could not live under such conditions so our network of villages chose not to cooperate. Nine men, my father being one of them, were chosen to travel beyond Russia’s borders into Iran to scout out the best possibilities for future residence.  This was done in accordance with the previous agreement worked out with the Russian government. In order to induce our people to come back from Turkey years before, the government agreed to allow us, as a group, to leave at anytime whenever we so desired. An additional purpose for the trip of the nine men was to officially petition the Shah of Iran for special refugee status for us Russians.  But almost immediately after the departure of the nine, the authorities descended upon our village one night and the next day and arrested all the men. This amounted to nearly 300 men. They were each tried and given sentences of three to fifteen years at hard labor in Siberia. Nearly ninety percent of these men died there – never seeing their families again.

My mother, upon my father’s departure, was left alone with all the children, many of whom were very young.  In addition we were under constant harassment from the authorities because they knew that my father had escaped.  Life became increasingly difficult for us under these circumstances and so my mother decided that we should leave.  We gathered up what we could of our possessions and left our village. We traveled to Rostov to the train station. We arrived there too late in the day.  The trains had already departed and so we slept on the streets that night. We left Rostov for Baku the next day. We arrived in Baku, boarded a ship, and crossed the Caspian Sea to Krasnovodsk in Turkmenistan.  From there we took the train to Ashkhabad which was near the Iranian border. There we would stay until conditions were conducive for an escape. In the mean time we invested in a horse and wagon and built a small delivery business, my older brother John being the chauffeur.  We hauled all sorts of products – watermelons, cantaloupes, bread, perogies, candy. I always rode along with my brother and got to sample many of the wares. I still remember the great tastes of some of those products to this day!

The photo at the top of this post is of a group of Russian Molokans going to church in Los Angeles. They kept the  same dress from the time they escaped from Russia so this group would look a lot like the men of the villages that were rounded up and sent to Siberia.

East and West

One of us is East and one of us is West. Soon we’ll be settled with all our stuff and ourselves facing the same direction.

My drive was very pleasant with clear skies and temps in the 70’s. Since I was doing a solo drive, leaving Dear in the west, I left later in the morning. Books on Cd are helpful to me on these long drives. This time I listened to a murder mystery by Anne Cleaves. She writes well and the miles go by quickly. I stopped here on my way this time because it was open and bought some whimsy for our new property. I’ll show you all later.

Happy Monday.

I read these words from C.H. Spurgeon this morning:

Lord Jesus, turn in with me and be my guest; and then walk out with me, and cause my heart to burn whilst thou speakest with me by the way.