ex(PR)essed

For more than 25 years my dad has owned his own appliance repair business. He worked out of our house — with his office in our utility room and his shop in the garage. Last Friday, he closed his toolbox, took the signs off his work van, changed the message on his answering machine, and officially closed up shop to enter the blissful (so I’m told!) world of retirement.

My parents live in a relatively small town, and, after 25 years of traveling all over the county to fix people’s major appliances, my dad got to know a lot of people. It’s no exaggeration to say that he is THE beloved repairman in Meadville. He’s known for being fair and honest, polite and well dressed. He’s gifted at making conversation with people. These qualities (and many others!) earned him the respect and business of many through the years.

Because of dad’s extensive network of contacts, I grew up simply being known as “Dave’s daughter” in many circles. I had few teachers or friends whose homes he had not visited. He knew nearly everyone it seemed! I never minded simply being associated with him — for all the reasons mentioned above. As a matter of fact, if people in my hometown still only know me as “Dave’s daughter,” that’s perfectly fine. More than fine really. An honor.

Happy retirement, dad. You’ve earned many happy years of rest and relaxation, puttering around the house and traveling with your cute wife. Thanks for being such a wonderful example…for approaching life and business with such integrity. I have learned much from you. I hope your retirement includes many visits to central Pennsylvania — Adele, Jeff, and I look forward to making many more memories with you and mom.

On Wednesday, Jeff and I both took the day off work to drive to Mt. Pleasant to meet up with all the Bertrams. ALL the Bertrams, by the way, consist of my cute parents, my brother Dwayne, sister-in-law Barb, nephew Brandon, and aunt Barb. Yep, that’s all of us. Dwayne and family were visting from California, and it wasn’t going to work out for Jeff and I to travel to Meadville to see them, so Mt. Pleasant was the next best option.

I haven’t been in Mt. Pleasant since my grandma died in December. It felt really strange to be there and to not see her. She would be so excited about Baby Lorow and would enjoy seeing my growing belly. I really miss her.

But, on a happier note, it was great to see the rest of the family. When you live 3,000 miles apart, such reunions are few and far between.

After having lunch together at Applebees, we headed back to my aunt Barb’s house for the afternoon. Her home sits on land adjacent to my grandparents’ farm, and it was nice to sit on her porch and remember happy times spent on the farm.

Later in the afternoon, my cousin’s kids came over. His youngest, Savanna, was too cute, and I couldn’t help taking pictures of her. She is the spitting image of her father, which endears her all the more to me. My cousin John was always one of my very favorite people.

Here’s a picture of the Bertrams….all of us!

And, here’s one of my cute parents with their cute kids and grandkids! (Well, we’re trusting that Baby Lorow will be very cute…)

And, in case you had any doubt about how my dad would be as a grandfather, check out this picture!

Aunt Barb and the girls gave Baby Lorow a present — a whole stack of board books. One of them, “Brown, Bear, Brown Bear,” happens to be Savana’s favorite, and she promptly plucked it off the pile and took it from person to person and asked them to read it to her. At one point, she was even reading it herself! It was pretty stinkin’ adorable, and I can’t wait to see my cute dad with Baby Lorow on his lap!

…a creative Jamie, cute mom, sweet Karen, and fun Aunt Wendy in their lives. Let me tell you, that awesome foursome knows how to throw a baby shower! Baby Lorow and I felt so loved and celebrated on Saturday as we enjoyed an afternoon with our very favorite ladies. There are not words to properly express how thoughtfully and beautifully the room was decorated. So many special, heartfelt touches reflected how well Jamie knows me and were a wonderful testament to our deep, abiding friendship. I love that girl.

The theme? Vintage nursery rhymes. Perfect.

The guests? Women from church, high school, college, current and previous jobs, and some who have known me my whole life. Mothers and daughters. Good friends. Sisters. What a gift to be surrounded by so many special women, some of whom have already stuck their toes in the waters of motherhood, others who are taking the plunge with me and Jeff, and still others who are crying out to the Lord for the blessing of a child in their lives. It was a gift to be celebrating with each of them.

The food? Delicious! And abundant! Because these ladies know me very well, they elected to have an ice cream bar so everyone could make their own sundaes! Perfect!

The decorations? So thoughtful. Books and blocks. Wildflowers. Vintage stuffed animals, including a few from my childhood. Vintage buttons. Nursery rhymes aplenty. Beautiful dishes and teacups. Hand-stamped napkin rings. So much care and time must have went into each and every detail.

The gifts? Generous beyond belief! The invitations asked people to bring a favorite book so that we might start a library for Baby Lorow. Books are important to me and Jeff — we have quite a collection ourselves and both love to read, so having a library for the littlest Lorow was important to me. And, we got such a variety of fun books that I can hardly wait to start reading to the baby. We also got oodles of other adorable, fun, practical baby gifts. People were so amazingly kind.

It’s been hard for me to be the center of attention during this pregnancy, so I was feeling a little apprehensive about all eyes being on me and my growing stomach. But, how can a girl not feel totally blessed to have so many lovely, godly, caring women in her life? It just makes me giddy to think about all the people Baby/Kid/Teenager/Adult Lorow will have in their life to love and prayerfully support them. What a blessing.

Me and Jamie

Me and Mom

We were all pretty tired by day’s end, including Mr. Silas who charmed the socks off everyone he encountered. This boy is seriously cute and was, once again, a wonderful house guest! What a treat to celebrate the impending arrival of Baby Lorow with a little one that we were just celebrating and anticipating a few months ago! (Um…I totally love the little glimpse of belly in this picture. He was one relaxed guy!)

Jeff ran the Pittsburgh Marathon on Sunday. So did my cousin Chris, Jamie’s husband Brad and brother-in-law Kevin, our neighbor Sheila’s son Bill, and about 7,994 other people. We met up with my parents, my aunt and cousin, and Jamie, Brad, Silas and Jamie’s parents for a weekend of marathon fun in the Steel City.

I spent the week feeling a bit unsure about our travels — I was fully immersed in swine flu preparations here at the College and knew exactly enough to be completely paranoid about spending two nights in a hotel, eating out, and rubbing elbows with 15,000 people at the marathon. I also wasn’t feeling well, thanks, I think, to a snuffly bout with allergies. So, I left for Pittsburgh a bit hesitantly on Saturday. However, once we arrived, it was impossible not to love being with all my favorite people in one of my favorite cities!

Marathon day was grand! It was overcast and cool — perfect for the runners and not too shabby for us spectators. I met up with my parents and aunt at their hotel so we could watch the start together before jetting down the street a few blocks to catch our runners again at mile three. It was quite a sight — runners and spectators as far as you could see! Much different than any of the other races I’ve seen Jeff do.

All the guys that I was there to cheer on were running different distances and different paces, so it was going to be a challenge to keep up with everyone. Of course, I was most devoted to my guy and wanted to see him as much possible. Therefore, I not only rushed to the 16th Bridge, but then back into downtown Pittsburgh, onto the subway, over to Station Square, and down to the street, just in time to see him pass by there. Then, it was back into downtown on the subway, walk to the hotel, and scout out a spot at the finish line.

Because the course was headed into eastern Pittsburgh, an area I couldn’t get on foot, I was going to go 16 miles without being able to see Jeff. So, we signed up for text messages so I would at least get a sense of how he was progressing, whether he was keeping on pace, and when he might finish. I was estatic each time I got a message because I knew he was keeping a perfect pace for a PR, a personal record. Sure enough, at 4:07:55, he crossed the finish line, minutes ahead of his Harrisburg Marathon time and a significantly better showing of his fitness and training than the awfully hot Erie Marathon.

I’m not always a good sport about Jeff’s training; I get frustrated by the hours he spends running and the money he spends on shoes. I don’t understand his dedication, but I admire it. And, on Sunday, when we parted ways so he could find his pace marker and I could get to the start line, I felt choked up like I have at every other one of his races. It’s just such a significant accomplishment to run a marathon, and, in those moments, I couldn’t be any prouder of him. He competes with such a great attitude.

It was also especially fun to spend this marathon with my parents! They yelled as loud as I did, and I know their hearts swelled with pride when he ran across the finish line. I’m so appreciative of how involved they are in our lives…how much joy they take in our accomplishments (big and small). Their love and appreciation for Jeff is such a wonderful sense of support and security in our marriage.

After the marathon, our gang headed to the Strip District for a celebratory meal.

Jeff and I wrapped up our Pittsburgh stay with a blissful 11 hours of sleep on Sunday, delicious breakfast on Monday morning, and rainy trip to the Pittsburgh Zoo. Before you feel bad that it rained on our zoo trip, let me tell you that I’m now convinced that rainy days are the best days to be at the zoo. No crowds and many of the animals seemed especially active and playful. We had a lot of fun…even if we were soaked and chilled to the bone!

And, though it was a fun weekend, I must close on a sad note. I posted more than a week ago about a sick fish that I was keeping an eye on at Bethany Village. When I checked on the fish last Tuesday, I found the little guy washed ashore. I was sorry to see that he didn’t make it. I hope the small acts of kindness that mom and I showed him brought at least a little sunshine to his last days.

I was sad to hear the news that GM was going to eliminate the Pontiac brand in its efforts to reduce costs. My first two cars were Pontiacs, and if they held their value better, Jeff and I would be driving a Vibe now instead of a Honda Civic.

When I got my license, I was the fourth Bertram to sit behind the wheel of a 1985 (or was it an 86?) Pontiac Firebird. The car had been my Aunt Susan’s, and when she was killed suddenly in a car accident, my grandparents gave the car to my brother. He drove it throughout his time at Nyack College, and then got a new car –another Pontiac, by the way! By then, all of us were pretty attached to this car and the sentimental value of it having belonged to my aunt, so my dad started driving around town. When I got my license (after learning to drive on my mom’s Pontiac Grand Prix), I learned to drive a stick, and then I, too, drove (and loved) the Firebird until I got a new car — a 1996 (or was it a 97?) Pontiac Sunfire.

I loved my Sunfire. I cried, literally, when I traded it in for a Honda CRV. The people at the car dealership certainly thought I was a ridiculous, overly emotional girl. But, in the Bertram family, you love and cherish your cars. You don’t eat in them; you wash them on Sundays; and you care for them in ways that most people would never dream of. Therefore, after pouring all that time and attention into your vehicle, you tend to get a little attached!

It’s funny though — I never got attached to my CRV, and when I traded it in, I didn’t even look back. I guess there’s just something about Pontiacs.

I live in a neighborhood adjacent to a large retirement village called Bethany Village. The location has advantages, including plenty of areas to walk. Yesterday afternoon, my cute mom and I walked the trail around the newest section of the retirement community, and then stopped to visit the Koi pond so I could check on the fish.

Last summer, Jeff and I started taking our stale or moldy bread over to the small pond and feeding the fish. For those of you know me at all, you won’t be suprised to hear that I got attached to the little critters, and, off and on all winter, I wondered how they were surviving the cold. I looked forward to seeing and feeding them again in nicer weather. (And, I can hardly wait to take Baby Lorow on walks to see the fish this fall!)

Jeff and I “visited” the fish last week and found the pond looking a bit sparse (no vegetation), but the fish looking healthy. They swam right over to us and began begging…it was just like old times.

Yesterday afternoon, however, when my mom and I stopped to see the fish, we observed an orange one with a terrible growth on it, sunken to the bottom in an area all by itself. We watched it for quite awhile, noticing that it always avoided the others and seemed quite lethargic.

Now…I have a compassionate spirit when it comes to animals. I don’t like the circle of life. I don’t want to hear about deplorable conditions at chicken farms; I don’t like mounted animal heads on people’s living room wall; and I don’t support our youth group boys who think it’s “fun” to randomly shoot groundhogs and squirrels. I also don’t throw paint on people who wear fur, and I’m not a vegetarian, so I understand animals’ places in God’s kindgom. But I still don’t like to see them suffer (I don’t think God does either as they are his marvelous creation as well), and I don’t want to know anything about them being harmed. (Remember, empathy is one of my top five strengths. Apparently that’s not just empathy for humans but for animals as well!)

So, mom and I head home, and I tell both Jeff and my dad about this sick fish. Both are completely unconcerned. We eat dinner, and at the end of the meal, there is one piece of sourdough bread left. I decide that it might be a nice treat for the sick fish. It’s almost dark outside, but mom and I put on our shoes and jackets and bustle over to the pond. (My mom is a wonderfully good sport with a good, kind heart!) It takes us awhile to locate our sick fish — it’s so dark that we can barely see more than a foot or two into the pond. But, we do find the little guy — still off by itself — and start to throw bread its way. The poor thing would gobble up a piece and then spit it back out. It just didn’t seem to have the energy to eat. Heartbreaking.

When I left for work this morning, my mom was setting off to check on our fish. I’m not hopeful that she’ll find him in any better condition this morning than he was last night. I suspect he has an advanced case of ich, and I hope the disease won’t affect the entire pond.

I’ve loved a few fish in my time — in particular my college betas Hamlet and Naaman — who both eventually succumbed to ich, a prevelant disease in the fish community. I’m afraid that I will find that this sick Bethany Village fish will suffer a similar fate, though I doubt the maintenance staff will give the fish a proper burial like we did with mine. To this day, a small cross marks the burial of both Hammy and Naaman outside my bedroom window at home.

My parents live in northwestern Pennsylvania. They’ve had 100+ inches of snow so far this year, and they’re rooting for Erie to get another seven inches so that they can break a record (149 inches!) and all the cold and mess of the winter can feel like it actually means something instead of just being a significant pain in the rear.

It’s no wonder then, given the weather, that cute Dave and Linda couldn’t wait to make a break for it and head to sunnier, warmer climates. They left on Feb. 27 for a two-week stay in Indian Shores, Florida, and they invited us to join them for a few days of sun and surf. Of course, we said yes and booked our airfare immediately. You don’t have to ask us twice to leave behind the frigid temperatures and put our toes in the warm-ish Gulf. Can you see why we couldn’t wait to get out of here?

My parents had rented a condo with a beachview, so we enjoyed this type of stunning finale each and every day we were there. And, yes, we all stopped what we were doing each evening to gather on the balcony for the sunset. That’s what you do on vacation. Perhaps when Floridians travel to Pennsylvania on vacation (why?), they gather around the window to watch the snow plows go by. (Or, in the case of central Pennsylvania, they gather around to watch the snow fall without a plow in sight.)

Anyhow, there were many wonderful, beachy sights to see.

Lest you think we just stumbled upon this pile of gators, allow me to clarify. Jeff and I played miniature golf on Sunday, and the course’s claim to fame was gators aplenty! I counted 18 within a rather small area. It was a hot day, so many were catching a few rays while waiting for a tourist to pay $3 to dangle a chicken liver over the rail. We just observed them and moved on, minus the chicken thing. (For more about the golf game, check out Jeff’s blog.)

In addition to seeing lots of sea critters, we also enjoyed eating lots of seafood! We scoped out some fun, delicious restaurants. At Bubba Gump’s I ate scrumptious cocunut shrimp. No grease; perfectly crispy. Delicious! At Crabby Bill’s I enjoyed a crabcake sandwich, and on our last day, at Conch Republic, I had Baja Shrimp Tacos. Yum! Each place was very beachy and all, but I was especially fond of the “attitude” at Crabby Bill’s!

Jeff has written a funny and thorough account of our trip on his blog. It’s worth checking out, although, perhaps without being there, you won’t find some of his memories as funny as I found them.

Jeff and I love going on vacation together — we discovered what good traveling partners we are when we ventured to Maine on our honeymoon. Since then, we always look forward to an adventure away. We’re fortunate that my parents also enjoy an adventure together and invite us to join them! (Read about the Bertram-Lorow vacation adventures last year here.)

All in all, our Florida trip was great. Plenty of time for sleeping and relaxing, miniature golf and swimming, eating and well, eating! We were far from ready to come back home. Who wants to leave behind 80-degree weather and my cute parents? No one? Exactly.

Last year, I could hardly wait for the Super Bowl halftime show and the Tom Petty concert. I dig Tom Petty, and even though none of the youth who we were watching the game with knew who he was, my friend Sandy and I sang and bopped along to his hits.

This year, I was looking forward to seeing Bruce Springsteen, but I wasn’t quite as excited. I like Bruce, but his fans tend to be a bit more fanatic about him than I am, so I kept a low profile. I was thrilled when he really stole the show! Twelve minutes definitely wasn’t enough time!

And, about midway through his performance, I leaned over and said to Jeff, “Do you know who bought me my first Springsteen album (it was a cassette)?” It had occurred to me that I became a Springsteen fan because my grandmother bought me “Born in the U.S.A.” the same Christmas she bought me a shiny, red boombox. My dad was a Springsteen fan (I say “was” because he doesn’t like any of Bruce’s new stuff), but my first memories of Bruce will always be courtesy of Grandma!

My retirement clock is dying.

In January of 2000, my dad sent me a clock labeled “Countdown to Retirement.” He was pretty pleased with himself for selecting such an appropriate gift for a bright-eyed girl who had just started her first “real job.” At the time, I think I had like 16,000+ days to work until I could retire (I can’t remember what age he based the countdown on…Jeff, can you do the math?) So, for all nine years of my professional life thus far, I have been keenly aware of how incredibly far away my retirement is. (I’m even more aware now thanks to Jeff’s faltering 401K and my diminishing TIAA-CREF fund.)

Well, last Friday, Jeff happened to be in my office, and he noticed right away that the screen on my digital retirement clock was…well, fading. And now it’s impossible to discern anything on the display besides the word “days,” which is somewhat fitting because it is days (and days and days and days) until I retire. A girl could get pretty depressed just thinking about it. And, let’s face it, with never-ending frigid temperatures and what feels like a total lack of sunlight this winter, this girl doesn’t need one more thing to bum her out.

I guess for now I’ll just hold on to the fact that it’s only 60 minutes until I can go home for the day.

Well, it was never my intention to let a whole week go by without a single blog entry. This is such a wonderful time of the year for photo-taking and reflecting that nary a day should pass without something. But, alas, a week has passed and here I am. And, to make it even worse, I forgot my camera, so I can’t upload all the adorable pictures I wanted to share. Anyhow, in brief, here’s a short summation of the past week.

Last Thursday was sweet Emma’s fourth birthday. My faithful readers will remember that last year she proudly declared, “happy my birthday” throughout the evening (and Natalie took a series of scalp pictures). This year Emma was quick to remind me and Jeff that it was “her party.” We couldn’t have been happier to help her celebrate. She disappeared near the end of the party…apparently she just needed some alone time with her new ponies. She was busy playing by herself in her room when Jeff and I went up to say goodbye. Sweet, sweet girl.

Last Friday afternoon I drove north to Jamie’s for our annual Christmas extravaganza…a weekend of cookie-baking and crafting. It was also my first time to meet Silas so the anticipation was especially great! We allowed ourselves Friday night to just eat some Emeril’s soup (tradition), chat a bit about our baking plans, and admire Silas. Then, on Saturday, the extravaganza really began. We started baking around 10 a.m. and finished around 11 p.m.! 450 cookies, my friends! Sugar cookies, each individually frosted and sugared; spritz cookies…some red, some green, and some flavored with orange peel; chocolate-peppermint cookies that, sadly, required chilling and weren’t started until quite late on Saturday night (we were weary by the time they came out of the oven); and white chocolate cranberry cookies…you know, the ones everyone skips over on the cookie trays because they’re afraid of fruit. Jamie and I think they’re delicious though, and they look so festive, so we made them anyhow.

Sunday I got some fun snuggle time with Silas before church and then we enjoyed a relaxing afternoon of stamping. Silas was a perfect addition to our extravaganza…well behaved and very helpful! I can only imagine what fun he’ll be next year!

On Monday the mood changed a bit when I learned around lunchtime that my grandmother had passed away. I knew before I left for Jamie’s that she wasn’t recovering well from a bout with the flu, but I was hoping she would rally back to good health, as my grandfather had done many times. This is certainly one of those situations where you don’t want to see your loved one suffer even one more minute, but you can hardly stand the thought of life without them. It’s been a sad week for me in that regard. My grandma and I, as she liked to say, were “very good friends,” and we enjoyed many happy shopping trips, cajun catfish meals at Cracker Barrel, and walks around the family farm together. I will (already do) miss her very much.

I was reminded this week of the blessing of family. My brother came home from California, and it was so nice to see him. We spent time with my Aunt Barb, one of my favorite people. And, my cousin John, who I don’t see enough anymore, was around with his oldest daughter. Of course, I have the best parents, and they were a source of comfort and encouragement during what was certainly a difficult time for them as well. And, outside my immediate family, I felt much love and support from my church family. I am blessed. (Did I mention my sweet husband? He is wonderfully sensitive, gracious husband, and all the Bertrams adore him…especially me.)

So, now I’m wrapping up a rather disjointed week at work and looking ahead to two full weeks off! Tonight, Natalie and Emma are sleeping over…our first overnight with them and their first sleepover in several years. Oh boy! I have much merriment planned…cookie baking and decorating, painting, movie watching, and sleeping (hopefully!) under the Christmas tree. Then, tomorrow night, we’re hosting our small group for a Christmas open house. It will be great to reunite with those friends for a few hours; they were such an important part of our fall.

So, there’s the wrap-up, but, sadly, without photographs. I trust that each of you are well and wish you a wondefully joyous holiday season!