Wondering Wednesday: Ordinary

The other day a friend of mine made the following comment on a photo I posted on Instagram. She said,

The tagline on your blog is a bit humble. "Ordinary" women do not raise large families with exceptional children. Ordinary women do not move around the world and pick up foreign languages and teach them to their children. Ordinary women are not as virtuous and humble as you seem to be. But of course you would shy away from a more accurate world, which is "extraordinary". You are an extraordinary woman leading an extraordinary life. So glad to have crossed your path.

My friend's kind and admiring words gave me pause. In so many ways, I do not feel anything but ordinary. I am doing very much of the same things that my mother, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers did before me. They married, birthed many babies, and raised those babies- in whatever easy or hard circumstances they encountered. They kneaded bread, practiced the age-old alchemy of making a delicious meal out of nothing, and pinched pennies to buy shoes or clothes for their children. They expressed their creativity and intelligence in different ways-through sewing, working as a secretary and clerk for a lawyer and then for the county court, writing, or singing. Many of these women moved across the country leaving behind family and friends. Some crossed oceans taking an enormous risk in the hopes of a better future. All of them faced loss-some lost babies, others lost siblings and friends, parents, grandparents, and spouses.

My great-grandmother Gertrude Anderson Fenex, her son Floyd Fenex, and my great-grandfather John Franklin Fenex. Gertrude was a devout Catholic, educated at a Catholic school,  and was a school teacher. She was a great letter writer. She was the calm presence to my great-grandfathers fiery temper. Gertrude and John would lose a baby (Glen) during his first year of life and their eldest son would be killed as  a civilian POW in his early 20s on Wake Island in the Pacific Islands during World War II.

So when I look at my life, compared to the long line of women who preceded me in life, it is hard to consider myself as anything but ordinary. I cook, clean, wash laundry, make beds, run errands, pick up children from school, force children to do homework, and do what needs to be done to raise a family. I have friends all over the world doing the same thing with their families.

I will not demean myself though by proclaiming any of it is easy work. It isn't. It is the hardest work I have ever done. I often feel exhausted and grumpy trying to manage it all. I work very hard to parent deliberately, to instill order out of chaos,and to provide a warm and loving environment for my children to thrive.

Being a mother isn't the sum total of my existence though. I am a writer with some skill, but still have a long path to tread before I achieve anything approaching mastery. I am curious about the world with its mysteries and conundrums. I possess the capacity to adapt and thrive in unfamiliar and challenging circumstances. I am adventurous. I am a good friend. I strive to better myself.

Whether or not I feel comfortable calling myself extraordinary, I do feel like I live in an extraordinary time with extraordinary opportunities available to me. I only hope I can live up to the promise and adventure of those opportunities.

© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Throwback Thursday: May 2015 Review

Winter Rose

Winter Rose is just growing and changing so quickly. She is so cute and fun. Despite the sippy cup in the picture below, she mostly drinks from a regular cup. She likes most food and will try just about everything. She also wild fuzzy hair after taking a nap. I have so much fun spending my days with her.

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Elementary School night

Both Brooke and Jonathan were so happy to show us their classrooms and samples of their schoolwork at the Elementary School Night. Brooke has had a wonderful year in third grade with a structured and artistic teacher. Jonathan has done so well in kindergarten and works so hard at school. 

A Visit from My Kentucky Kin

My beautiful younger sister visited me with her daughter, Saucy Belle. Our girls had a lot of fun together. I took my sister to the Metropolitan Museum of Art where we enjoyed looking at the Impressionist Paintings and the Medieval armor. Winter totally rubbed it in to Saucy when she was allowed to get out of the stroller. I also took Nicole to Boscobel, a restored home from the early 1800s that overlooks the Hudson River. We enjoyed a hilarious luncheon at Kathleen's Tea Room where the staff kept cracking us up with their comments. It was such a nice visit and one I hope to repeat.

The Taconic Opera Performs the oratorio, Daniel

Brent and I joined the Taconic Opera Chorus and spent months learning the music for an original oratorio, Daniel. Our friend is the composer and director. We loved singing the choruses. We put on two different performances--one in Ossining and the other was in White Plains. Here is my handsome husband in his tuxedo ready to perform in White Plains.

Building an Addition

We have a huge deck in the back of our house. I have been anxious to make it more usable and functional in the summer. Brent built a couch and we purchased an awning and table so we can eat outside. It made a huge difference and now we can sit outside anytime we want.

 Memorial Day at Fahnstock Park

We are lucky to live pretty close to a great lake with a nice beach. Memorial Day the lake was open and so we spent the afternoon there enjoying the water and playing in the sand.

© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Throwback Thursday: The 1990 Wyoming Centennial Wagon Train

In 1990, the great state of Wyoming celebrated 100 years of statehood and I entered my teen years. In order to celebrate Wyoming's centennial, the state organized a grand wagon train in June--that went across the state diagonally ending up in Cody.

My maternal grandfather had a team of burros--obstinate, and cranky little burros. He really wanted to be a part of this wagon train adventure. The wagon train rules were pretty loose. People could join for a few days at any point during the month long trek. My grandpa invited a few grandchildren along to help and enjoy the experience. I was one of the kids who got to go. Just from my recollection--which is a bit dim on some of the details--and I can't remember where my journal from that period is stashed, my cousins, Shane, Travis, Glen, and Lee all went for some part of the adventure. Travis, Lee, and I were pretty close as kids so we were all pretty excited to hang out together for a few days.

In packing for the trip, my parents were a little paranoid and over-conscious about what I would need. They made me pack snowgear, including a big snowsuit and heavy snowboots. Turns out none of that was necessary because it was hot as heck that summer. Some nice person allowed me to stash all that crap in their trailer. Good thing because those burros couldn't pull more than the wagon because they were THAT stubborn and THAT lazy.

Those burros were such nuisances. They mostly did fine walking on dirt, gravel roads, or through the brush. But when they got onto paved roads, those darn things would lay down on the ground. Talk about mortifying! Since they were stubborn little things (kind of like my grandpa) my cousins and I would walk beside the wagon, hitch a ride with someone else, or if we were lucky find a horse we could ride. 

When my cousins and I joined the train, one of the wagon masters gave us a bunch of centennial pins. Our job was to go around and sell as many as possible. I wanted a pin really bad and he told us if we sold enough, we could get our own pins as commission. We had so much fun going around to the different companies and selling those pins. People were friendly and we explored as much as we could.

We made a lot of friends quickly. I have never had trouble talking to people or meeting them. Some of the friends I made were adults. In particular, Edie and Olen Tackitt from Arkansas and a man who had a carriage and some pretty horses. I exchanged letter with Edie Tackitt for several years after the wagon train ended. Olen was a singer and after the days travel was over and camp all set up, he would get his guitar and harmonica out and play practically the whole night. I sang a lot myself. Those campfire music sessions are some of my happiest memories of all. I also made friends with an older man who had a pair of Morgans (I think). He was all by himself so sometimes I would ride with him to keep him company--meaning I talked his ear off. He also let me ride his horse sometimes-which was a real treat. I was a pretty decent rider in those days. We had horses and I rode often. 

I remember being free and being allowed to just roam where I wanted. We had to be careful about rattlesnakes and cactus. But that is pretty normal for the area. Growing up, I always knew how to watch out for snakes--especially rattlesnakes. 

My parents also got to go on the wagon train for a bit. Earlier that year, my dad had bought a team of clydesdales that he trained and worked with. He sold the team to a man who wanted to do the whole wagon train from Cheyenne to Cody. He got tired for a bit and asked my parents if they wanted to drive the team for a bit so that his wagon would stay in the train the whole trek. My parents jumped at the chance. At some point though, either my mom or sisters got sick, so she left. My sisters, Lori and Trisha, stayed with me and Dad. We were there the day a man came and took a panoramic picture of the entire wagon train and by happenstance, we ended up being smack dab in the middle of the picture. That picture currently hangs in my parents' office at their house.

A couple of memorable and funny moments from the trek with my dad: the wagon masters always put us in the worst spots to camp for the night because the camps were right in the middle of the worst cactus. I wore cowboy boots and sturdy jeans to protect me from the cactus needles. One time though, I fell right into one bad patch. My backside was just covered in cactus needles--which really hurts. My poor dad had to pick the cactus spikes out of my butt and we were both so embarrassed. 

The other hilarious thing that happened was when my dad's team escaped their enclosure one night and stampeded through the camp. Listening to my dad tell that story is probably one of the funniest things I have ever heard. I hope to someday get that on video. 

Going on the wagon train was one of my favorite adventures of all time. I'm so happy I got to relive it today on my blog.

Here are some great articles about the wagon train from 1990.

Hundreds Set Out for 260-Mile Trek

Boy Learns Life is Rough on the Trail--yup cactus sucks! 

Wagon Train Experiences Old, New Along the Trail

Wyoming Centennial Lapel Pins

Trio Pulling Handcart 

Wagons Across Wyoming

Wyoming's Centennial Party

Wagon Train Medallions--I am pretty sure this is what my cousins and I were selling.

© 2007-2016 TIFFANY WACASER ALL RIGHTS RESERVED