Oak Tree by Sara Gleason https://the-lilypad.com/store/Oak-Tree-by-Sara-Gleason.html Artful Imagination by Dawn Inskip https://the-lilypad.com/store/Artful-Imagination-Ensemble.html Think Happy Be Happy {Dressed Up} by Fiddle-Dee-Dee Designs https://the-lilypad.com/store/Think-Happy-Be-Happy-Dressed-Up-Digital-Scrapbook-Template.html
Journaling: It wasn’t until I was 12 at my Grandma Jensen’s funeral that I found out my parents had snuck away to Reno, NV and eloped. My dad is 3 years older than my mom. They had grown up together, but they did not start dating until high school. My mom would go to dad's house as his mom was one of mom's leaders for a few years. Mom says that dad used to chase her home with a water gun. Mom was 17 and a junior in high school when they decided to get married. Their parents wanted them to wait, but they decided to elope instead. So they snuck away one weekend in November and drove to Reno, NV. They had to find a Bishop who could marry them. These are the pictures they have of the weekend they eloped in Reno, NV. A few weeks after they eloped, their parents held a wedding reception for them with a wedding cake and presents.
Thanks for the challenge! Date c. 1965 is on the picture. I covered a number of years in the journaling, but all before the year 2000. I hope that's ok. Word count 385.
Ever since I can remember rosettes have been a staple on our Christmas table. My grandfather’s family moved to the states from Norway when my grandfather was just a young lad and with them came many traditions from the old land. Every year my grandfather fries up rosettes to serve with Christmas dinner in his garage with rosette irons over 100 years old passed down from his parents and their parents before them. My grandfather uses the same recipe his mother used years ago. The brittle cookies never last long and as our family grew in numbers, my grandfather found himself having to make more and more cookies. It was around 1996 when I was in the 8th grade that my grandfather decided it best for the tradition to be passed down to his grandchildren. I was the lucky chosen one to join him in the garage. We spent over 4 hours mixing dough and frying cookies for our family and for the church. I learned very quickly not to touch the burning hot metal iron. And how long to hold each cookie in the oil before they would burn to a crisp. That first year there were more wasted cookies than good, but I soon caught on. Years have came and gone and I still spend an afternoon in that same garage alongside my grandfather and now my own child creating rosettes for the family Christmas dinner. As my grandfather’s health is failing, I know one day very soon those old irons will become mine and it will be my job to make sure the tradition lives on for the generations to come.
Thank you for making this challenge something with a memory too, my past was filled with all sorts of abuse, I tend to stay out of it as much as possible. I do have a (very) few good memories, here is one.
In the end I think I blew this challenge... If it is unacceptable please let me know... As things often go, scrapping can have a life of its own... I started out with the thought of commemorating my husbands death in 1997, 20 years ago on July 3rd this year... that qualified... I made a floral arrangement for the church alter to commemorate that, and needed to scrap about that... but when I started journaling, it became all about the flowers, and not about him or his death, which actually has long since been recorded... In the interest of completing the current projects, my focus through out this month has been to scrap the things I need to be scrapping... It is about his memory, and the photo, turned to a sketch is acceptable time wise both in the 90's. If I have to find time to do another do let me know... Thanks...
journaling: The four of us threw Mommy and Daddy a surprise anniversary party with friends from near and far. This day is important to our heritage because it lays the testimony of our parent’s true love and devotion to each other. This loyalty and bond was instilled in their children through example. Another reason this day is a day to note is that it is the last time all of John and Helen’s children were together in one place while our parents lived. We had to bid farewell to our parents only six short years later. Now Brother Johnny is passed, as well. This day is a cherished moment captured in time to me. The whole affair and it’s plan and the weekend Bobby stayed at my house so his family could be near-by, is a special memory for me, and I know it was for my brothers and sister, and Mom and Daddy, too.