Nov. 17, 2006 A long road to travel.

From Jeannie:

October 30, 2006 – tomorrow the sale of Cascade Ranch is final.

I just tried to nap because I only had four hours sleep last night. (My life is a sleepless, foggy blur lately. My busy brain doesn’t want to settle down. I end up spending two to three hours a night struggling to fall back to sleep.) As I was reading my Bible, which I always do before I go to sleep and upon waking, God gave me this amazing word for our situation, and I had to jump up and share it with you.

“But recall the former days when, after you were enlightened [become a new Christian], you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to reproach and affliction, and sometimes being partners with those so treated. For you had compassion on those in prison, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one. Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised.”

(A note about my devotions: Since our little grandson, Silas was born I have read the Bible through entirely starting at Genesis, not skipping Leviticus and Numbers, through Revelation and starting in Genesis again. Affliction is definitely a prescription for enhancing spiritual life.)

This is by far the most difficult time of Chuck’s and my lives. We are continually asked, “What are you going to do?” and “Where are you going to go?” It is all we can do to keep on smiling as we say, “We really don’t know.” One of my pastors wrote that we were in good company. Abraham went forth in faith not knowing where. This is one of the reasons we haven’t been attending church. It was becoming too painful to talk to everyone and to sit through a service without shedding tears. Now, however, God has given me a peace about our situation. I still cry with sadness but I’m not fearful anymore. Like Abraham, we are being led by the God of the universe, and if God be for us, who can be against us?

Well, you ask, where are you going to go Jeannie? And again I say, “We still don’t know.” I think last night we did come to a decision, though, that we would try to live at the coast no matter what. This has been a tough one for us to wrap our brains around, probably because we have been so spoiled for the past eighteen years, living in a palace and managing this extraordinary ranch. We have been house hunting in the Coquille, Coos Bay, North Bend area, and finding a small acreage that has a nice house on it, and enough room for some of our horses to run, is hugely expensive. Are we ready to start mortgage payments again at our age? And what is Chuck going to do for work? Those are the big questions. Chuck’s boss hasn’t told him what he wants him to do over there. I feel that whatever it is it will be better than staying here and trying to start our own business, which is what Chuck chose as our other option. We aren’t ruling it out if the coast doesn’t work. Now you know all of our thoughts on the subject.

So we don’t know where we’re going or what we are doing but we have smiles on our faces and we are praising the Lord.



November 17, 2006

Well, let me give you a glimpse into our recent activities since the ranch sale has become final. Not to anyone’s surprise, the new owners of the ranch insisted we be out the end of November. They had asked Chuck if it was okay if they worked on our house while we were still in it and he asked them to please wait. On November 1 they walked through the house four times with various people. The roofers and carpenters started ripping off damaged siding boards and cedar shingles. I watched them take a chain saw to the beautiful wisteria—trunks as thick at my arm—growing around the sunroom windows. That day there were about twenty workers. It’s been averaging about fifteen unless the weather is lovely. They start at 7 a.m. making the hope of me catching up on any missed sleep impossible.

I’ve made friends with the workers. Although I don’t have the heart to visit and joke with them like Chuck does, each day I take out a plate of homemade cookies and wind my way around mountains of debris, underneath plastic tarps draping the whole house, around a dumpster the size of a Mac truck making foot deep ruts in the lawn, a portable pot, piles of lumber and shingles, lift machines, our buggies and wagon and an average of twelve vehicles at any given time. The pounding is incessant and I never know at which window some worker may be seeing me through. Yesterday it was my bedroom window and bathroom skylight. There have been three days so far where every one of my doors has been blocked with plastic and we’ve had to open the garage door to get out. That was after Chuck cut a hole in the plastic draping the garage door. Finny never knows where his bed is going to be from one day to the next. The UPS truck drove out of the yard with my package because they were convinced nobody could possibly be living here. The absolute clincher for my insanity came the other night when we didn’t have any water. The plumbers who are putting in a new water system shut our water off and forgot to turn it back on. (Chuck continues to monitor the present water system daily.)

I’ve been thinking I might be going crazy. I have been doing nothing but packing, packing, packing for two months only leaving the house a couple times. I’ve been terribly depressed, crying frequently and waiting for Chuck to get home so we can curl up together and comfort each other. Now we have less than two weeks left. I’m still packing but I can see a finish line. There are no pictures on the walls and I’m tackling my pantry and our camping gear. Chuck has spent every day working on closing down the business and shipping cattle—very little on packing or moving. The pressure from the new ranch owners to be out is overwhelming but they continue to hound him, through the selling agent, about things they want him to do for them. They only want 250 of the cows so the rest are going on trucks this week to a sale in Cottonwood. He is missing 40 to 50 yearlings that he is hoping will turn up when all the animals are gathered and separated. The new people are also buying the calves which are considered natural beef and are worth more than a regular animal at the big feeder sales. They are getting a great deal because the cattle price is very low right now. It is heartbreaking for Chuck to see them go so cheap but that is the way it is.

The new owners show up frequently to walk through the house. When I know in advance, which has only been three times, I’ve made some goodies and have them sitting on the cupboard to show them hospitality. They refuse any kind of a relationship with me. It is unnerving to say the least. Now I’m so sensitive that when the builder, Marv, came to ask me if he could take them around when Chuck wasn’t here I burst into tears. I was so embarrassed. I know Marv, who is a kindly fellow, felt very bad for me. It is obvious that our situation and all the struggles we are having trying to conduct our lives in the middle of the building chaos is very difficult. Today, Saturday, he brought his wife to meet us and they gave us a huge basket of goodies from Harry and David’s. I started to cry again, at this loving act of friendship.

Someday I know I’ll be over all the emotion attached to our move and able to put everything into perspective. But for now I’m a mess. I’m desperately trying to find places for my horses—I was able to give one of my Arabs to a girl from Church. My dear friend Barney-the-cat who can’t go with us, is probably going to have to be put down as well as my other Arab who has cancer tumors along his jaw. We already put old Fire Cracker down and I’m still looking for a home for Marcy, our homely Standardbred mare. She can drive a buggy, rides and carries a pack, and I’m sure she would be valuable to someone at a different time of year but right now she is a burden. I’m also finding homes for my fish tanks. Tanaya will take the 130 gallon one if I can figure out how to get my foot long tropical fish over there without them dying. I don’t know about the smaller tank yet. The pond fish are on their own unless somebody reading this wants to come and catch them.

About a week ago Chuck’s boss, Mike, the previous ranch owner, called to tell Chuck that he wants to keep giving him a pay check, but he wants to give Chuck some time off. We won’t get our health care paid for anymore or any myriad perks we’ve been used to, but we are so grateful for the time he’s giving us to breath. There is a smile on Chuck’s face again. Mike is also giving us a modular home near Bandon to stay in and see if we like living at the coast. It is small but comfortable and it has a big, private, landscaped yard and two big shops. It had dark wood paneling throughout but Mike is having it painted white for us. He is also replacing the blue, brown, beige, red and green carpets with a single color—cream. I’m so grateful for the bright surroundings. The coast is a rather dreary place this time of year anyway without living in a cave. It also has a chicken pen and Chuck says I can raise some birds. J Mike has another piece of property down the road that we can use to keep some of our horses on. We need to fence part of it and figure out some kind of shelter for them. My friend, Trudy, says that horse’s skin will actually rot in the rain if they can’t get dry.

We will be camping in the house that Tanaya rented from us through Christmas. It needs some work and we would like to make it bigger. Chuck thinks he’ll spend some time working on it this winter. He has some lumber and now he has some time, too. It is wonderful to think that we have a place here in Lake Creek still. We’ll come home often to see our children and grandchildren and visit our churches. Things are falling into place for us and giving us peace.

We found out yesterday that the new people are keeping the suburban. It is listed as going with the ranch. We are now looking for a suburban. God provided two thousand dollars to help us put down on another vehicle by allowing my car to be rear ended a couple months ago in town. I had Shahala and Zion with me and we all went to the hospital to get checked out from the whiplash. The insurance company totaled my car when I sent them an estimate for fixing it. It is still drivable and it doesn’t look too bad so I’ll drive it with a smile. My back is sore from the accident and I’m going to the doctor again next week. I’m sure that hauling boxes around all day doesn’t help. I also have tennis elbow and I’m having a hard time lifting my arm or carrying things. I’m sure these are typical consequences from packing.

I’ve had someone looking at our baby Fjords. However she can’t buy them until she sells a horse herself. They are well advertised and hopefully somebody will buy something—we are selling buggies too—to help pay for another vehicle.

I’ve watched my husband work through this sale, doing everything in his power to make the transition a good one for the new owners. He has maintained his composure and repaid unrelenting unkindness with generosity and good will with each and every new obstacle. He has had to let all of his men go and watch one of them being treated dishonorably. He has gone the extra miles to make things right by them. He has worked tirelessly cleaning junk and garbage off of the ranch from thirty plus years ago. He has worked to made things right with various tenants in Lake Creek and sent each of them off with a hand shake and no hard feelings, and he continues to bless the new owners by helping at every opportunity. All the businesses at which he had accounts have expressed their dismay at his departure and wished him well. He is a godly man. His integrity radiates from him. I’m humbled by his strength and fortitude. I’ve been a mess through this whole thing, spending entire days not leaving the house, packing and crying. Chuck is my encourager, my rock. He takes time to pray with me even in the wee hours of the night. We’ve drawn closer together than we’ve ever been and I’m so in awe and in love with my man. It is a good thing he still leaves his dirty dishes lying around so I can keep him in perspective.

We can see an end to our nightmare and we are getting through it. The little glimpses I’m getting of our future are pleasant and I have moments when I’m filled with peace. If I could just focus on those moments and let the rest fall away I’d be perfectly happy. We have so much to be thankful for. I’m glad Thanksgiving Day reminds us to take stock of our blessings. We have so many. J

The most amazing gift is the renewed life of our grandson, Silas. His health continues to improve. He has been to Portland for his surgery and is recovering nicely. Tanaya took him for another evaluation yesterday and she described his night terrors to the experts. He cries inconsolably for hours and the only way he will finally settle down to sleep is by sitting up next to somebody’s chest. The experts think that he may be suffering from severe acid reflux so he’s seeing his pediatrician today. Wouldn’t it be wonderful is there were a simple explanation and a cure?

The Kyne family has moved to their place in Ruch and they are awaiting the paper work to announce their loan has come through and the house purchase is final. They love the place and are getting used to the residents. They’ve had us for supper and we finally got to see it all. It is a beautiful, older home with five original bedrooms and three added on. It has two fireplaces and huge trees in a big yard. Since they moved Tanaya has been great about coming over on her days off so I can get my kid fix. They also drove to Roseburg and picked up the newest member of their family yesterday. She is a four month old black Dane and she is beautiful, quiet and very sweet. They call her Bandona (pronounced with a long 0), meaning “Praise God” in a Hindu language. It is from my list of interesting names I like to collect. All the residents love the puppy except L____, a lovely ninety year old lady with Alzheimer’s, who says, “Shoo! Shoo!”

Tanaya and Albert are now talking about sending their children to a Christian school in Jacksonville. I’m so excited for the children. They need kid contact along with their older people contact.

The rest of our children are doing well. Kate and Trevor, Pete and Shahala are busy every night of the week doing ministry things and socializing. (Trevor even has pipe smoking parties with his buddies. Chuck has yet to attend one of those.) Babies Luke and Zion are growing several new chins under their original ones. Luke is in the 150 percentile on the growth charts. Jasmine talks a mile a minute saying we don’t know what. Joshua is in grade one at his little desk in the kitchen. He loves learning.

Zion and I had a half hour conversation a couple nights ago. She has the most beautiful smile, and as long as I don’t talk too loudly she responds positively. If my voice gets all excited and gushy, even over the phone, her bottom lip quivers, her chin wrinkles and she dissolves in a puddle. Boy, wouldn’t she have a hard time at Tanaya’s house? She was nursing the other night with a blanket over her head when Mia, the Kroll’s not so little puppy, smashed her wet nose on Zion’s bare leg and then gave the leg a sloppy lick. Zion’s leg recoiled a bit, but she didn’t pause or rip the blanket off to see what was going on. I found that scene very cute. I think the nose/lick thing happens a lot and I think Zion is going to be an animal lover.

On a sad note we have recently learned that Linda Salle’s cancer is back. She is our daughter-in-law, Lisa’s mother and a wonderful friend. She will go on dialysis immediately for kidney failure and start chemo right away. This will mark the end of a normal life for Linda. She insists on praising God through it all and she had words of encouragement for me about her situation. It sure puts our troubles into perspective. Her girls are very distraught. Lachreacia, who lives in Idaho, is devastated. The Salle’s were planning on going there for Thanksgiving. Now they will spend it with us up on the mountain. We’ll see if we can fit everyone into that little house. Peter’s parents want to join us too.

I see that my letter has reached the five page mark. Wow, time to let you go. Thank you so much for caring about us and our dramas. Hopefully our move will mark a new period of drama-less existence for a while. God bless you all and thanks to my faithful prayer warriors.

Love,

Jeannie

PS For those of you who offered to help us do the physical move now is the time.