Another Year Older…

…and I do hope wiser.

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My life started when I was little.

img817I was a real swinger.

postcardsmisc012I started out a brunette and then became a blond and then switched back to brunette.

img331Kindergarten at Montebello Gardens Primary School. This school only went to the 3rd grade at this time. Starting in the 4th grade we were bused up to Montebello (over the Rio Hondo river) to Fremont Elementary. Montebello Gardens (not a garden by any stretch of the imagination) is part of Pico Rivera. (Top Row Left with my Buster Brown “do”)

img332Mrs. Nicolaus my 1st and 2nd grade teacher was one of a handful of my teachers that I knew was fond of me. I was a voracious reader and she recommended that I be skipped from 2nd grade to 3rd grade. (Top Row left with my curly “do”)

img333The majority of the children I went to school with in my primary school days were Mexican/American. Of course now the politically correct title is Hispanic. My growing up experiences were not in the era of political correctness. (Top Row right with my Buster Brown askew)

I tried to count the candles on this cake to see what birthday it was. It looks like 7 but I’m not sure. This was at our house in Montebello Gardens/Pico Rivera, 4635 Oak Street. It’s funny how the old addresses stick in my head. My sister Kathy on the right with my cousin Jim Loscutoff. On the left is my brother Fred and my sister Vera.

I know this is later than the photo above since my brother Steve is sitting in the highchair and my cousin Tanya is sitting at the table. My best guess is that this is 1960 since my brother Steve was born in December of 1959 (my 9th birthday). My cousin Valia, cousin Vera, cousin John, and cousin Walter blurred along with my brother Fred blurred.  Looks like a store bought cake for this year…

When I was in the 5th grade we moved across the river into Montebello and I was able to walk to school. During my 4th grade year I was bused. Speaking of 4th grade, I talked too much and my handwriting was messy. Funny how the criticisms stick with you all your life. My 5th grade teacher gave me the distinct impression that she did not like me at all. She made me stand up once in class to chastise me and I remember thinking in my head “I may be standing up on the outside but I’m sitting down on the inside!”  My 6th grade teacher was a gem who encouraged me with his kindness.  I worked in the cafeteria in the 6th grade and got free lunches. The cafeteria ladies were another group of adults who encouraged me.

God has brought me through these 63 years with so much tenderness and care. I’m forever grateful.

We are heading across the mountains to our son’s home for the weekend. We’ll have my birthday dinner in Chewelah. Dear will be helping Dan with some projects and I’ll see what mischief I can get into. Don’t know if I’ll be checking in to the internet until Monday. Have a great weekend!

A Repost from 2007!

Thinking of Retiring?

April 1997 ~ Moisi and Nadia

You’re 74, your wife is 73, you’re retired, what do you do? My parents, Moisi and Nadia decided to sell their house, many of their household possessions and move to Russia to start a Bible study ministry in a small village near Rostov-on-Don. They filed for a one year visitor’s visa and left with suitcases full of Bible study materials on May 6, 1997. They set up shop in a four-room home with no indoor plumbing. My dad is not an ordained minister. His experience comes from many years of following Christ sincerely, Bible study, service for the Lord, sincere love for God and God’s people. My mother loves God, loves my father, and loves to cook. They work together beautifully.

My parents were both born in Russia. When young, (1932), their families separately escaped out of Russia into Iran. They lived in and near Tehran, where they met and were married. My oldest sister was born there. My dad was not a believer when he married my mom. She was a believer and the daughter of a Baptist minister. Shortly after WWII they applied for and received permission to immigrate to the U.S.A. After customs and registering in New York they traveled to Los Angeles, where relatives set them up with shelter and work. Two more of my older siblings, myself, and four younger siblings were born to my parents. Twenty years into their marriage my dad accepted the call from God to follow His son Jesus as his Savior. This took place at the Billy Graham Crusade at the Los Angeles Coliseum in 1963.

My brothers and sisters oldest to youngest. Kathy (who was born in Tehran), Vera, Fred, Ellen, Tim, Steve, Lana, and Leonard ~ This photo taken in 2003 at Leonard and Lana’s 40th birthday party in Downey, California. My parents were still in Russia at this time.

My parents have faithfully followed the Lord in word and deed. On trips to Russia earlier in the 1990′s they felt the need of the lost sheep in this spiritually poor country. While visiting relatives they led a cousin to the Lord. She begged my parents to come and teach her the Bible. My parents prayed, listened, and felt it was time for them to go for longer than a 2-month visit.

A Bible study turned into a small church that met in my parents’ rental home. Up to 15 women started coming to church on Sunday. No men. They did not anticipate the response they’d get from the children in the village. Forty children came for Sunday School.

Many of the children came faithfully each week even though their parents did not come. Some of the fathers ridiculed their children for going. The Sunday School Christmas program brought out a lot of parents. Same for Easter programs. God kept opening doors for the men to hear the gospel, too. My dad was asked to speak at funerals where he always preached the Gospel, the Lord works in mysterious ways. At the end of their first year there were several new believers. My parents had to leave Russia in the Spring. Eight women wanted to be baptized before my father left. The lake was frozen and there was no baptistery in the village. The women insisted my dad baptize them in the largest bathtub in the village!

Cousin Natasha’s Baptism

My mom with her ducks and geese

My parents came home to the States in May of 1998. They had their medical exams and my mother was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. She had surgery to remove a cancerous lump and had radiation treatments for 6 weeks. She recovered well enough to encourage my father to make arrangements for another one year visa. They returned to Russia in October of 1998. They had a great reception on their return and their mission there was confirmed. They bought the house they were renting and turned it into a church with their small living quarters. They built an outdoor baptistery. They have gone back for a few months at a time since 1999.  Their final trip was just last year. They went to  encourage the existing church and make arrangements for a visiting pastor from a neighboring larger city to come in and teach this small group of believers. My parents turn 84 and 83 this year.

Comparing my folks from this 1999 photo in Russia with their 1997 photo above you can see the toll their two years of service, cancer (prostate and breast), and age have taken on them. They do not have any regrets for the time and sacrifice their service in Russia cost them. They are now living in a Senior apartment continuing in service for their Lord.

I leave you with this song, Remind Me, by Aaron Spiro and Carlo Furlan as a fitting close to this story of my parents.

Remind Me

When I’m old, remind me not to get stuck in my ways
When I’m old, remind me not to sit around day after day
’cause there’s a race to run that doesn’t finish at sixty
And I’m not giving up till I’m safe in your arms

When I’m old, let me bring glory to your super name
When I’m old, remind me not to take your grace in vain

When I’m old, remind me who and what I’m livin’ for
When I’m old, remind me not to hide away and double lock my door

I’ll rest in heaven, retire there. Let me run for Jesus ’till I get there.

Moisi (Moses) and Nadia have certainly lived their lives for Jesus and they haven’t stopped yet!

Moisi and Nadia ~ October 2006

ht:  I Am, I Am, Kickin’ the Sky / Aaron Spiro & Carlo Furlan

Black and White…

Thinking of those long gone days and looking forward to my new scanner so I can pull out more oldies but goodies like these…

My mom with what I call the first 4. I was the baby of this first group of kids my parents had. Soon there would be 4 more…

Traveling somewhere with the thermoses of hot tea toted along…

Not quite sure about the curlers in my sister Kathy and Vera’s hair…

Easter fashions!

My mom and me. My mom was very stylish!

Our long labor day weekend has been full of good family events as we were enjoying the days before Andrew flies back to Camp Lejeune for his next deployment. Katie is taking him to the airport tonight which puts a lump in my throat.  We are trusting God for his care and provision for both Katie and Andrew during their time apart. Yesterday we had Swedish pancakes for breakfast with the crew and then Josh, Laura, Katie and Andrew went on a nice hike in the Cascade Mountain range. When they got home from their hike we had a yummy slow roasted rib dinner with my sister Lana and Steve joining us. Playing cards and a Sounders game topped off the day.

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The Early 1940’s

In our organizing and cleaning we came across a photo album from Dear’s father with photos from Illinois from early days of Rex (Dear’s father) and Verna’s (Dear’s mother) courtship before Rex was called up for service in World War II. Rex and Verna’s granddaughters have a certain photogenic quality with one of them cashing in on modeling opportunities. I found it telling that Verna has some model poses that I think carried down to her granddaughters. Not so much on my side of the family! We have a lot of Russian Baptist modesty that goes deep…

This is my personal favorite!

This is Dear’s father’s mom and dad and a sister.

Dear’s dad after a hunting trip. Another gene handed down to our son’s…hunting. Is that a gene?

More of the modeling genes?…

May is escaping fast. How will you be spending the last couple days of May?

Coming to the U.S.A.

U is for the United States of America!

The following story was transcribed by my sister-in-law Kelly as she listened to my parents tell some of their story on immigrating to the U.S.A. in September of 1947. They were visiting my brother Steve and Kelly on Labor Day September 5, 2011.

“Spent the afternoon with  Mom and Pop and wanted to share some of what they had to say.  This is the unedited copy filled in as Pop was talking…so excuse the grammatical errors, if I wait to edit you may never see it.”

(This photo is taken after my parents and sister Kathy settled in Los Angeles. This was sometime in late 1947 or early 1948. My mom is pregnant with my sister Vera in this photo and Vera was born in late February of 1948.)

“Pop said he’s never shared all these details because…no one asked.  What started the retelling is that tomorrow marks the anniversary of their first arriving in NewYork…Sept. 6, 1947.  They arrived in Los Angeles on the 12th.

When Mom and Pop left Iran they got a flight on a Red Cross cargo plane..the propeller variety, that had dropped off supplies and was heading back to New York.   It was very loud he said…no seats, just benches along the sides.  Due to refueling and frequent stops it took 4 days to fly from Tehran to New York.  At  most of the stops they got out and ate…and in four places spent the night. He said they had 27 people on the plane and it was full.”

(This is probably what the inside of the Red Cross cargo plane looked like. I hope the Navy is ok with me borrowing it…)

“This is the basic itinerary.  (Pop had made a detailed journal of the trip, but lost it in the last few moves.)  From Tehran to Cairo…spent the night.  From Cairo to Rome..spent the night, got to drive by St. Peters.  From Rome to England, where they were not allowed off the plane so they had to head to Ireland to a US military base.  They spent the night there.  From Ireland they went to Iceland, then to Greenland…where they again spent the night.  From Greenland they went to New York.

Upon arrival in New York they were taken directly to the train station.  Unfortunately, the ‘coupons’ that one of pop’s brother’s, my Uncle John, secured for them weren’t signed, so they couldn’t be used. They were suppose to be vouchers for travel purchased in Iran from an agent.  So since the coupons didn’t work they were stuck in the train station with no money, no food, with a one year old. Mom and Pop were 23 and 24 at this time.

Some nice people helped them and Pop had a card with the name of a Russian church on it.  They took them on the subway to the church and arrived in the evening just as the minister was locking up.  There was no time to find a home for them to spend the night so they took them to a hotel.  Mom said, ‘They put us on the 9th floor, I was so scared..”  And the other couple they were with were on the 14th floor.  The next morning was a Sunday so the streets were empty and Mom said she looked out the window and down and there was trash blowing along the street.  Very frightening to look that far down.

The minister showed up with milk and bread, they hadn’t eaten the day before, and they remember that delivery making them feel like orphans.  They had no money, no food, and Pop only spoke a little English.  (Which he had learned working on an American Military Base in Tehran…I’ll get to that.)

The pastor took them to church and that night they stayed with a family.  On Monday they put them on a train to Chicago.

Two vivid memories of their time in NewYork…  It was the first time Mom had seen toast, and she couldn’t figure out how they got it perfect on both sides.  She also got stuck in a revolving door and couldn’t get out.  She said, they weren’t educated enough to be in New York.

In Chicago another group from a church met them, fed them, gave them a place to stay, and then put them on a train to Los Angeles.  It should be noted that Kathy was very good during all of this, only cried a little.  At some point in this US leg of the journey they were able to contact people in LA to wire them money for the train tickets.  Pop figured it took them about 2 years to pay back all of the costs of their trip to the States.”

(This is a photo of my sister Kathy in a park in Los Angeles, California. Love how the older folk sitting on the benches in the background all have hats on.)

My parents were the first of their families to arrive in the U.S.A.

“In the course of telling this story Pop mentioned other jobs he’d had so I made him list them in order…here is roughly the job history.

His first job was driving horses plowing the fields in Russia.  There were four horses hooked to the plow.  He worked plowning.  (Think clowning)  He also worked threshing the wheat.

Then he worked as a shepherd.  A group of families had cows, sheep, and goats and it sounds like the kids from each family took turns watching the animals.

When they moved to Tehran he worked as a babysitter/houseboy doing whatever the woman of the house wanted him to do.

Later, in Iran he had a job feeding cows.  Then after they were milked he would walk around town to the customers they had and sell milk from a bucket by the cup.

After that he went to work on some of the Shah’s land doing farming.  When it wasn’t farming season he would deliver sand and bricks to road crews.

Then he had jobs on Military bases…he worked on the American base in the kitchens washing out the pans. They would feed him while he was there, and give him food to hide on his body to take out to his family.  (Not technically allowed to take the food, but the cook was nice.)  It’s also where he learned to speak some English.

He also worked on the Russian military base as a mechanic.  He said he ‘fix em’ Chevy’s and Studebaker’s, when they had been in accidents, we fix em up.

His last job in Tehran was in a brick factory.  It was far away so he needed to have transportation.  He said, he and Mom lived in an apartment with 4 other families above a sauna house owned by a Turkish man.  He sold Pop a bike that he had stolen…  When I asked, ‘he stole the bike?”  He said,’Yes, but he sold it to me real cheap, and nobody would recognize it because they changed the color.”  He rode the bike to work every day.”

Ellen’s thoughts…

When I think of what my parents went through to get to the United States I’m really grateful. Grateful to God for giving them the courage and faith to face the unknown. Just the language barrier had to be scary. They had a little toddler and my mom was pregnant with my sister Vera during this journey. Sitting on a bench in a loud cargo plane with 24 other people with a little one in diapers, amazing. They had no idea what kind of life they were going to have in the United States. They had only lived in villages where maybe there were a few 2 story stuctures and here they were in New York City with tall buildings. When they arrived in Los Angeles my dad worked odd jobs in carpentry and construction. They helped the rest of their extended family immigrate to the U.S. over a number of years. Each of these family units lived with my parents until they could get into a place of their own. My mother’s father was killed in Iran after my parents came to the U.S. My mother’s mom immigrated to the U.S.A. with my Uncle and Aunt as a widow. So much hardship endured and they persevered over the years and have always expressed their thankfulness to God for bringing them to the U.S.A. They had 9 children total. Their first daughter died in Iran when she was a toddler. Here are the 8 of us in age order…this is an old photo.

Kathy, Vera, Fred, Ellen, Tim, Steve, Lana, Leonard

My mom and pop in 2009. Next week on the 13th of September they celebrate their 68th Wedding Anniversary!

This is a very long wordy post but I want to document all this information for my family to have. If you made it through I applaud you! Thank you for your perseverance!

I’m linking up this story to Alphabe-Thursday since we are on the letter U. Thank you to Jenny for hosting this fun meme.

Meeting For the First Time…

 

Katie met her cousin once removed for the first time this past Saturday at Descanso Gardens. After Avery gave Katie the initial critical look she decided this cousin was OK to be around.

Avery thought Great Aunt Ellen was OK, too, for short periods of time, if I kept moving, and there was something for her to grab, and if her mom or dad weren’t too far away…or her brother…or Nana.

We had so much fun. Isn’t that a cute skirt Avery is wearing? :0)

O Blessed Home Where Man and Wife ~ Hymn

O Blessed Home Where Man and Wife

O blessèd home where man and wife
Together lead a godly life
By deeds their faith confessing!
There many a happy day is spent,
There Jesus gladly will consent
To tarry with His blessing.

If they have given Him their heart,
The place of honor set apart
For Him each night and morrow,
Then He the storms of life will calm,
Will bring for every wound a balm,
And change to joy their sorrow.

And if their home be dark and drear,
The cruse be empty, hunger near,
All hope within them dying,
Let them despair not in distress;
Lo, Christ is there the bread to bless,
The fragments multiplying.

O Lord, we come before Thy face;
In every home bestow Thy grace
On children, father, mother,
Relieve their wants, their burdens ease,
Let them together dwell in peace
And love to one another.

Words: Magnus B. Landstad, 1861; translated from Norwegian to English by Ole T. Arneson, 1908

See What He Will Do…

 

About two years ago the Billy Graham Association was asking for email stories of how Billy Graham’s Evangelical Outreach had touched our lives. I sent in the story of my Pop’s conversion. Previously to this request, when our daughter was at Wheaton College in Illinois we were able to visit the Billy Graham Museum on campus. Emotions came to the surface when I saw the photos from the Los Angeles Crusade at the Coliseum in 1963. I knew my dad and I were somewhere in that photo of the stadium filled to overflowing.

 

I sent in my story hoping that Billy would hear and know that I thanked God for his devotion to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and how it impacted my family.

 

What a thrill to get this book in the mail this past month, skimming through and seeing my story about Pop published.

 

 

I can hardly wait to show my Mom and Pop the book…

My parents are soon turning 86 and 85.

Photobucket is holding all my photos that I stored on their site from 2007-2015 hostage replacing them with ugly grey and black boxes and asking for a large ransom to retrieve them. It is a slow process to go through all my posts deleting the ugly boxes.

Give Me My Babushka’s Cooking

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For Foodie Friday I’m posting this paragraph my daughter wrote about her Babushka’s cooking and a recipe and how to make my mom’s Borsch following it.

  • Gimme my Babushka’s cooking and I’ll be content

  • The sort of Russian/Persian cuisine that my Baba (Grandma) makes… I would be a happy camper for a year with yummy borscht, galupsi, kulyich, syrny paska, lapsha, varenky, shashlik, and a million other treats that I would butcher just as badly trying to spell in English…I can say most of them but they’re sure hard to type. Just make sure you give me a good supply of sour cream, and can I bend the rules to include my Mom’s “green borscht” which is spinach soup we chop up hardboiled eggs in? I was never entirely sure where that soup’s origins really lay…I could never get sick of all the lamb and cabbage and butter filled goodness, heck I even like the Russian candies my Deda (Grandpa) keeps around though none of my cousins do. My mouth is watering already. ~ Katie
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  • Many Borsch recipes include beets in them. The familiar Borsch that we grew up with and that we had at Molokan Church Meals did not have beets in it. Here is my mother’s recipe.

    Nadia’s Borsch

    For the Stock:
    1 Chuck Roast (with bone would be good)
    1 onion
    1-3 celery stalks with leaves
    2-3 carrots
    2 bay leaves
    5-10 peppercorns
    Salt to taste

    In a big stock pot, cover chuck roast with good water. Bring just to boil. Take roast out of water and discard the water. Put chuck roast back in pot and cover with fresh water again. Add remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil. Simmer and cook until roast is fork tender. Strain the stock. Reserve the roast.

    1 head of cabbage shredded (green is what we use)
    1-3 carrots grated
    1-2 onions diced
    1 bell pepper diced

    2-3 stalks of celery diced

    (saute the bell pepper, onion, celery and jalapeno then blend before adding to stock)
    2-3 potatoes diced
    2 cans stewed tomatoes blended in blender (we have those that don’t like chunky tomatoes)
    1 can tomato sauce
    1/2-small bunch of dill (to taste)
    1 handful of chopped Italian parsley
    salt and pepper to taste
    optional – 1 can of garbanzo beans
    option #2 – add a small jalapeno diced to the saute group above.

    Put the strained broth back into a stock pot. Add all the above ingredients and bring to a boil. Simmer until cabbage and carrots are tender. Taste and see if the soup needs more salt or pepper at this time.

    The Borsch is ready now.

    My mother doesn’t include this in her recipe but when she made borsch at my house once I saw her add a half a cube of unsalted butter at the end. :) My mother mashes most of the potatoes to thicken up the soup a bit.

    You can bake the chuck roast with a little of the stock, salt, pepper, and sauteed onions to serve alongside the borsch with a good loaf of bread and of course…sour cream. This was my welcome home meal for my kids on one of my trips back to Seattle a couple years ago.

    I hope you enjoyed this post from my archives. I think it is high time I make borsch again and take some new pictures.

  • Photobucket is holding all my photos that I stored on their site from 2007-2015 hostage replacing them with ugly grey and black boxes and asking for a large ransom to retrieve them. It is a slow process to go through all my posts deleting the ugly boxes.

Sweet Cheese Spread for Kulich ~ Seernaya Paska

My Russian heritage affords me some really good Easter eats. Every year we look forward to having our Easter Bread which we call Kulich in Russian and my Mennonite Friends called Paska.

We also make this yummy cheese spread to spread on this Easter Bread!

Seernaya Paska for Kulich (Russian Easter Bread) The X and the B are for Xpucmoc Bockpec (Christ Arose)

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Seernaya Paska  (Сырная пасха)

Ingredients:

18 – hard boiled eggs /
3 pounds Farmers cheese /a dry curd cheese like a dry cottage cheese can be substituted.
1 pint whipping cream /
3 cubes unsalted butter (12 oz.) /
3 cups sugar /

Press the Farmers cheese through a sieve. (This is the hardest part of the recipe) If you find a very small curd cheese you won’t have to do this to the cheese. I usually use a wooden spoon and press it through a wire strainer a little at a time. Separate the egg yolks from the whites. (You will not be using the whites).

Press the egg yolks through the sieve. Cream the sugar and butter together. Beat in the egg yolks. Beat in the cheese. Add whipping cream and mix well. You will place the mixture into a strainer lined with about 3 layers of cheesecloth. You will need enough cheesecloth to wrap up and over the top of the cheese. Place the cheese mixture into the cheese cloth lined strainer or another container to mold into shape. Bring the ends of the cheese cloth up and tie the ends on top of the cheese in a knot. Place the sieve into a larger bowl suspended with enough room for the cheese to drain without sitting in the drained liquid. Place a plate on top of the cheese an place a heavy rock, brick, or other weight on top of the plate. Refrigerate over night.

I have used different shaped plastic flower pots to drain and mold the cheese into a higher domed result. If you choose to use a flower pot make sure there are enough holes in the bottom of the pot so the liquid can drain well.

This recipe is enough to feed an army. If you don’t have to feed an army here’s a scaled down version :0)

If you just want a normal amount, cut the recipe in thirds. (6 cooked egg yolks, 1-lb. cheese, 2/3 cup whipping cream, 1 cube butter and 1 cup sugar. Enjoy!

Farmers Cheese or Hoop Cheese can be hard to find. There are Russian delis that sell a dry curd cottage type cheese that will work. If you can find a dry cottage cheese at the grocers that will work too.

Here are examples of the Seernaya Paska I have made over the years.