Christmas . . . A Time to Stay in Touch

I love this time of year. Every afternoon, Gene heads out to the mailbox and brings back a handful of cards. He's diligent about staying in touch with old friends, and they, in turn, with him. We get cards from England and Australia, and from all over the country . . . even as far away as Tucson, Arizona!

Today the Sisson's card came in the mail. They moved to Tucson a few years back, and Kim, the Mom, hand crafts a new card each year. The four boys, Adam, Jake, Matt and Alex, all write special greetings, as do Kim and Rick.

Thought I'd share Rick's greeting with all of you:

"I said to God the other day 'How could we be through the first decade of the millennium already?' and He said 'Who are you?' Note to self: Work on relationship with God."

And Kim's message:

" . . . May you be filled with the grace to know how good you are. You are truly a gift to me."

Thank you Sissons for staying in touch, for reminding us of a few important things and for being the Christmas gift you are!

Land of Our Father

Elyria, Kansas, Grain Elevator


Oil Well Pumping Away


Christian School

After leaving Lincoln, Nebraska, on Sunday with an ice storm nipping at our rear bumper, we headed south on Hwy. 81. Gene had been wanting to visit, Elyria, Kansas, and today was the day we chose to return to the birth place of his father, Vernon Crabb.

Just two miles off Hwy. 81, Elyria, Kansas, is barely a town . . . in fact, it is an unincorporated crossroads at an intersection of two county roads. A few short streets branch off the county road and a scattering of houses populate the area. We thought of John Crabb as we drove around. The town reminded us of Irwin, Ohio, where John lived. Maybe this is why John had wanted to live in the country. Farming was in his blood, passed down from his grandfather.

Gene had visited the town only once when he was 4 or 5 years old and did not recognize any of the houses as being the Crabb homestead. We stopped and asked one young man if he knew any Crabbs, and the response was negative. One house has a sign out front, "Home of the "Smiths" for four generations since 1949". Four generations! But then, Gene had visited in about 1937, so the Smiths probably would not know the Crabbs.

When Vernon Crabb lived in Elyria, all that was there was the farm, a grain elevator and the railroad. Today, there are about 50 or so houses, a Christian School, and a "Historical Site" monument stating that this was the location of the Santa Fe Trail and that a treaty had been signed with the indians to allow the railroad to be built. The indians promised not to kill anybody working on the railroad.

The other important addition: OIL WELLS. Had the Crabbs stayed in Elyria, they might be oil barons today. Several pumps were working away at drawing oil from beneath the ground.

Asi es la vida!

It Snowed on My Birthday!

Yesterday was my birthday, and it snowed. Big, fluffy, lopsided flakes that flip flopped lazily out of the sky. And it was cold . . . in the teens. We bundled up in triple layers of sweaters and jackets when Lori took us out for breakfast. Gene wore his farmer, fleece lined hat with ear flaps to keep his head warm.

After breakfast, we took Lori back to her house in Norfolk, then headed to the mall to do some shopping. Gene wanted to buy me a trinket for my birthday as much of my jewelry had been stolen in our recent robbery. Turned out to be quite a trinket, diamond stud earrings that can be worn with or without a circular guard with more diamonds. I was stunned!

Calls and e-mails came in during the day wishing me a happy birthday. I opened a funny card from Joan that I had been carrying around since we left Phoenix. On the front were four old women wearing big t-shirts with curvaceous bodies printed on them. Joan had penned our names across the backsides of the women: Kathy, Carol, Joan and Suzi. We had quite a laugh. She also bought me a pair of earrings, as did Carol and Kathy and Lori. I'm refilling the jewelry box I have yet to replace.

Lori and I spent the afternoon mixing cookie dough to take to Lincoln where her daughter Crystal lives. On Friday night we'll go to a Christmas concert, and on Saturday we'll all get together to bake and decorate Christmas cookies . . . a new tradition with the Taylor siblings.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing, going out to dinner and playing cards with the young people who daily invade the Taylor home. We're still getting condolence phone calls and e-mails about John, which prod us back to the reality of why we are here. But my happiness was real today, too. I was in the comfort of the Taylor household, my husband had given me a gift I will always treasure, and it snowed!

Remembering John Crabb

John and granddaughter Skye, April 2009


Gene lost a son this week, Lori and Terri a brother, and Beth a husband. I’ve witnessed a sadness come over Gene like I’ve never seen before. A man should not have to bury his son . . . the father should go first. Yet he has been his steady, calm self, comforting others, holding Beth and Lori, his granddaughter Jessica and her children, Skye and Alex. It doesn’t erase the sadness, though, but it does fill the empty spaces with love.

John turned 56 years old this past summer, and in his 56 years he built up quite a roster of friends. His love of history evolved into an expertise in all things related to the Civil War and that period of our history. He and Beth lived a life that centered on perfecting reenactments of Civil War era life and battles. They attended events throughout the Midwest and South, dozens of events held annually in Ohio, Kentucky, Pennsylvania and elsewhere.

And they have photos to prove it . . . John in his period blue soldier’s uniform, long rifle at his side, pipe clamped between his lips; Beth in her hoop skirt, apron and wide rimmed bonnet. It became part of their life style; part of who they are. Their daughters, first Jessica and Ann, then granddaughter Skye, would also step onto the stage, and they became a family of reenactors. Even their wedding was in period dress, John looking his best in his dress uniform and Beth in billowing satin gown with rosebuds in her hair. All the guests came in period clothes as well, with John’s mother in a hoop skirt she couldn’t quite control and Gene in a Naval commodore uniform. It’s impossible to think of John and Beth without the two of them decked out in Civil War regalia. It was a part of their very being.

Which brings me back to the unfairness of it all. Why does a man have to die before his work on this earth is finished. John had a love for teaching others all about the Civil War, the battles, the equipment used, the way of life at that time in our history. He still had so much more to give. Gene has lost a wife and a son, both too young. Yet he enjoys good health. He’s had a premonition that he will live to be 93. Go Gene!

I remember lying in bed when I was gravely ill following the hysterectomy that removed the cancer from my body. Chemo was having its effects and I was nauseated and feeling lousy. Staring into my closet, I had the thought, “This body of mine is nothing more than a suit of clothes draped upon a hangar. It can be tossed aside onto the floor like a dirty shirt. It is the soul aglow inside the costume of bone and muscle and blood that really matters.” Clothes and bodies wear out and are discarded. Souls live on.

We pray that the memory of John and his soul will live on in our hearts.

New Life for Liberty Call

Liberty Call AKA CrewZen


Julie, Glen's girl friend


Glen, Gene and Angela

Glen took us out in his ski boat for a day on the bay in San Diego. While cruising around the marina, we searched for and found Liberty Call, now disguised as a tourist fun-in-the-sun day sailer. Gene sold the boat to Sail San Diego about three years ago. The company purchased a second Catalina 400 and now have two boats in their fleet. Both were headed out for day sails, and we were able to snap a photo of Liberty Call (now named CrewZen) working hard at her new job. She's been stripped of her bimini, dodger, outboard motor and other "cruising" necessities, has new sails and looks pretty sleek zipping through the water!

Introducing a New Member of the Family

Nananette Careccia, age 3


Grandpa and Nananette play with hats

Gene's daughter Terri has been a foster parent to a little girl since she was six months old. Terri's worked diligently through the adoption process over the past few years and finally got papers signed adopting Nananette. When the family arrived at our RV for dinner at the San Mateo campground one August evening, Terri asked Nananette to tell us her name. "I'm Nananette Careccia," she proudly announced. We're all proud, too!

Crabb Beach Party

The beach was packed!


Linda (Gene's sister)


Emily Wanous (Gene's nephew's wife)


Mike Wanous and daughter Emily


Pauline Crabb

It was warm, sunny and the perfect day for swimming and surfing. We were up at 7:00 a.m. to snag a table for our family picnic. We ate, swam, dug in the sand, made s'mores and played cards until the sun set. An altogether great day for the Crabbs.

Glen (Sue's son) showed up early for a visit, and upon arriving at the gate at Camp Pendleton announced, "I'm here to see the Crabbs on the beach." The guard looked at him leerily until Glen stammered, "I mean, uh, the Crabb reunion on the beach." They let him enter.

Big Surf at Camp Pendelton

We are now in California. After spending the first week at San Mateo State Park and then four nights at Lake O'Neil at Camp Pendelton, we are finally at the beach! The surf is huge due to a storm out in the Pacific off Baja, and it is drawing the surfers to the ocean by the hundreds. In fact, I counted 100 surfers at the Old Man's Beach south of our campground and nearly another 100 at Trestles.

The surfers are on their boards and riding waves at first daybeak and still out there after the sun sets. It's quite a show, and we can watch all day long from where we are parked . . . right on the beach!

Tomorrow we will have a Crabb beach picnic and see all the family. It should be a fun day.

The 23 Cent Hug

Gene dropped me off at the UPS office on Camp Pendelton to mail a package to my sister Joan. It was a busy morning, and I was in line behind two marines. They filled out their form, gave it to the clerk with their package and she rang up their charges.

"I can't believe we're 23 cents short!", stated the first marine. He turned to head out the door, as if to go hunt for loose change under his car seat. "Wait, I've got 23 cents," I announced. He paused, turned around and accepted the dollar bill I offered.

"Did you say 'thank you'", his friend asked. At that he came over to me, handed me my change, and said "Come here" while opening his arms to me. I felt like a military mom as he gave me a big bear hug. It was the best 23 cents I'd ever spent!

Ben and Amy's Wedding

August 15, 2009, turned out to be a perfect day for a wedding. An overnight rain storm brought cooler temperatures . . . down from 90 plus degrees the day before. The setting was perfect, too . . . the back yard of the bride's parents. The archway where they said their vows overlooked a tree lined pond.

A few little glitches, like Ben nicking himself while shaving (the bleeding stopped just in the nick of time, too), added to the day's fun. The wedding guests were seated under a tent, and a rain shower waited until the wedding party exited down the aisle before letting loose.

After some great food cooked on a Mexican "discado", delicious cheesecake and celebrating, the bride and groom took their leave on Ben's motorcyle. They were headed to Amy's apartment to pick up her bag and their car before leaving on their honeymoom.

In the guest book, Grandpa Gene gave them a word of advice he always follows: "Happy Wife, Happy Life". They are off to a great start!

On Our Last Leg

The last big adventure of our time with grandson Riley was a jeep tour in Canyon de Chelly National Monument in Northern Arizona. This canyon has been inhabited for over 5,000 years, first by Anasazi indians, then Hopi, and finally, Navajos. The only way to see the canyon is with a Navajo guide, so we scheduled a private jeep tour and headed into the canyon on a cool Sunday morning. The only time to go is in the morning, as afternoons are quite hot . . . even in this part of Arizona.

The guide drove us up a sandy wash still wet from rain a few days earlier. We stopped at ancient rock drawings and cliff dwellings. The highlight was White House Ruins situated high up the canyon wall. The indians lived in the cliff caves for protection from the hot sun, enemies and away from the danger of flash floods that swept through the canyon floor. Ten to 15 families still live and farm the canyon.

Canyon de Chelly to Heber, Arizona, is about a three hour drive, and we arrived midafternoon. Riley was chomping at the bit to see his dad who met us at the Heber cabin. We said our goodbyes, and he was all smiles as he headed back to the Valley to see his friends and get ready for the start of school. On August 12 he turns 13 . . . officially a teenager! This may be the last trip he'll want to take with grandma, but I hope not. We'll miss him!

Arches National Park

Cellphone reception is best at the top of the rock.







After leaving Rocky Mountain National Park, we headed south past Denver, then west to Eagle, Colorado, where we had dinner with Jim and Elizabeth Himmes, Sue's cousin and his wife. They live in a pretty spot with gorgeous views of snow capped mountains, cottonwood trees and lots of birds. Riley endured the visit despite an upset stomach. He blames it on nasty Mexican food he ate the night before that made him throw up!!!!!!!!!! (comments by Riley!!!!!!!!!!!!)

We arrived at Moab, Utah, Friday afternoon, with plenty of time to take a drive through Arches National Park with its spectacular scenery. We are camped along the Colorado River at an RV park. Tomorrow we drive to Chinle, AZ, and will take a jeep tour into Canyon de Chelly to see the indian ruins.

Riley is happy tonight. We have WiFi!!!!!! (Comments by Grandma!!!!!!) n riley
!!!!!!)

Rocky Mountain National Park

Cute kids at Bear Lake . . . too cute not to photograph.






Riley and Grandma at the top of the Rockies.

Even though it rained every afternoon (plus during the nights), we enjoyed every minute of our stay at Rocky Mountain National Park. We drove the Ridge Road to an elevation over 12,000 feet, saw a herd of 13 elk, all bucks, and survived a two hour morning trail ride.

Life with Riley!

Finally, some fish!


Panning for gold.


Climbing rocks in the Badlands.


Our first prairie dog sighting.


Fishing along the Missouri.

Life with Riley is quite a fish story. It started in the Ozarks. Grandpa Gene and his stepdad, David, both caught fish. Riley didn't. Since they lost the lucky lure, Grandpa and Riley went to Walmart in Norfolk, NE and bought another one, then up to Skyview Lake to try their luck. After two hours and many casts . . . still nothing.

Next try was along the Missour River at our camp site along Snake Creek. They had a kids' fishing pond that was sure to be loaded with fish. All Riley got were snags and clumps of seaweed. Not one fish.

Custer State Park was sure to bring some luck. They have lots of lakes and many steams stocked with trout. We bought a license and headed to Sylvan Lake, one of the prettiest lakes I've ever seen. Pretty to look at . . . but all fished out! Riley didn't get a bite.

We were camped near Blue Bell lodge, so I asked the front desk where in the heck you catch fish around here. The clerk said her boss pulled trout out of the creek right behind the lodge. I convinced Riley to try one more time . . . but didn't buy a fishing license. He reluctantly got his pole, put on his lucky fishing slippers and headed down to the creek. First cast . . . a bite! He started pulling them in left and right, keeping three and throwing the rest of them back. He caught 13 in all, and I headed back to the general store to get a license to make us legal!

Sticky Buns!

We were at a farmer's market in Lincoln, Nebraska, when I spotted these caramel rolls. Remember the sticky buns Mom used to make? She'd put brown sugar, nuts and butter in the bottom of a round pan, roll out yeasty dough, drizzle it with butter, then top off with nuts and cinnamon. The dough would be rolled up, then sliced and each roll placed in the pan. The aroma of them baking was almost as delicious as the bun itself. Does anybody in our family have this recipe? I'd love to have it and try to make some of my own.

A Bride Named Amy

Amy, Crystal and Lori at the shower.


New skillets!

Gene's daughter, Lori, lives in Nebraska and we were lucky to be passing through the day a bridal shower was hosted for daughter-in-law to be Amy. Ben Taylor and Amy will be married on August 15 in Lincoln, Nebraska in Amy's parents backyard. We'll fly in from San Diego for the wedding. This is the third wedding in the past four years, and it's fun gathering the family together for these joyous events.

Family Fun at Lake of the Ozarks

The swinging bridge had a jew "gaps" between the boards. Driving across was not as scary as walking across and dodging the gaps.


Paula getting instructions on jet ski do's and don'ts.


Riley testing his driving skills at the race track.


Gene and Sue, David and Paula at the Lake of the Ozarks cabin.


In Riley's opinion, riding the jet ski was the most fun of our Ozark stay.

The plan was to meet at the military fam camp at Lake of the Ozarks, have a few days of R&R with Paula, David and grandson Riley, then escape with Riley for a few weeks in the RV. We had rented a three-bedroom cabin right on the lake.

We rented a bass boat one day and went fishing (David and Gene both caught fish---Riley didn't). We toured the lake in the boat, and filled our days with jet skiing, race car driving and Mexican Train.

The Apostle Islands

The "Madeline", a ferry that leaves every 30 min. for Madeline Island.


Holly Marie Tourdot and one of her island inspired paintings. To view her artwork go to www.imaginegalleryandstudio.com.


The oredock in Ashland is no longer in use.


Murals depicting the history of Ashland are scattered throughout the downtown area.

Mary Ann Himmes mentioned the Aspostle Islands first. Then we heard about them from her brother George. So we decided to check them out. We were camped at Copper Falls State Park north and west of Mercer, and the Lake Superior shore was only about 25 miles to the north.

Our first stop was Ashland where we viewed about 9 or 10 murals painted on the sides of buildings in the downtown area. The artists that created these bigger-than-life historic paintings were busy at work on their newest assignment: a painting of the oredock that served the mining industry for many years but is no longer in service.

Next it was north to Bayfield where we caught a ferry to Madeline Island. The most interesting feature about this island, besides its natural beauty, is its icy location. During the winter, when the bay freezes over, cars drive over the 2-1/2 mile distance from the island to the mainland. Our waitress where we had lunch attended school on the mainland, and her school bus made the journey on the ice road each day during January and February until the Spring thaw.

I bought a few note cards from a local artist, Holly Marie Tourdot. One of her cards is called "Tom's Burned Down (Again)" and is a painting of a local tavern that, yes indeed, has burned down twice. I wrote a note on one of these cards and sent it to my cousin George to let him known we'd made the treck to Madeline Island.