Nineteen Nice Things for Maureen

Happy birthday...to you!
Happy birthday...to you!
Happy birthday dear Siiiiis, happy birthday to you!

Today Maureen turns 19 so it's only fitting to list 19 Nice Things about her today!

19. She's tall.  Tall girls rock.
18. She's tough.  Tough girls rock.
17. She's handy.  Handy girls rock.
16. She's a hard worker.  Hard-working girls rock.
15. She's not afraid to get out there and get 'er done!  Fearless girls rock.
14. She's blonde and handles it.  Smart blonde girls rock (and are hard to find!).
13. She's a groovy aunt.  Aunts rock.
12. She's curious.  Girls who try new things rock.
11. She has goals.
10. And is doing something about them.  Girls who pursue ideals rock.
9. Did I mention she's fearless?
8. She knows her stuff.  Seriously.  Ask her about football.  Or hunting.  Or straightening her hair.  She knows her stuff.
7. She's nice to animals.  Kind girls rock.
6. She's funny.  Girls who know how to laugh rock.
5. She's athletic.  Girls who know how to run a 5K, play volleyball, and hit homers rock.
4. She has the CUTEST niece and nephew.  Alana and Cyril rock.
3.She's going to start fire academy soon.  Smokeaters rock.
2. She'll stick up for the little guy.  Loyal girls rock.
1. And finally: she has an awesome family! Big families with Lil Sis's rock.

  Happiest of happy birthdays Lil Sis--enjoy your last year as a teenager!

Kids'n'Critters Part I

Growing up on a farm as we did meant that we had lots of experience with animals.  Now that I live in the city we pretty much have experience with one kind: dogs.  Though at times the white one makes me doubt his canine origins.

Makes me think back to other dogs in the Fenn past.

For sure the best one ever was our beloved golden retriever, Daisy.  The kids would ride her, bite her, love her, yank her, pet her, fall asleep on her and she just loved it all.

We had a crazy, hyper Dalmatian named Katie.  But only for a short while.

We took care of another golden retriever named Tuppany for a bit.

Then there was the Seeing Eye Guide Dog I raised, a yellow lab named Felina.

And then there was Lucky.  And he was just a badass mutt.

And then Belle the Golden Retriever who birthed the CUTEST puppies on the planet.  

Heidi the German Sheppard who as a puppy used to be so small she'd get caught between the bed and the wall.

And now Xena the crazy spotted yipper out at the farm.

At our house we have Copper and Bear but it is Bear that Alana loves best!  What is it about kids'n'critters?

Recognize & Appreciate

With the holiday season officially upon us (it may be 2:41 in the morning but it's still Thanksgiving!) many people anticipate gathering and celebrating with families.  It's a time for rejoicing and reflecting, for remembering and relatives.  

And for some people, parts of that is harder than others.  

It's easy to get caught up in the haves and have nots and, in my case, the who and who nots.  It's darn hard to celebrate when it feels like half the members are missing.  
 
We tend to forget that happiness doesn't come as a result of getting something we don't have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.--Frederick Keonig

And so I remember that I'm thankful for the courage my brothers have to go out and explore the opportunities and chase the dreams that take them far away on holidays.   

I'm thankful that it's hard on them to be away because it means we're a good family who cares about and genuinely likes to be around each other.

I'm thankful that we are all healthy enough to be out and about enjoying opportunities--whether it's eating turkey at Grandpa and Grandma's table or prepping to run a half Marathon in Kuwait.

I'm thankful that I have a job and that some of those tax dollars go to buying the Navy and Marine boys some turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy.  In a round-about way I am feeding my brothers today.

I'm thankful for the family who are pursuing opportunities closer to home--that means I get to spend the day with them.

And when I read back through my list I realize that it truly will be a good Thanksgiving indeed and that I'm thankful for family both near and far.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

What Uncles Are Good For

What are uncles good for?

They're good for lots of things but Cyril and Alana's uncles are good for being silly.  Absolutely nutty and it doesn't matter if a camera is pointed at the silliness or not.

They are good for copying you.

They're good for smelling weird.

They can manage you AND their beverage at the same time.

And they have good laps for holding their favorite niece and nephew!

We love you Uncle Tony, have fun in Rhode Island at Officer School!

Fall For You

Once upon a time I had a bunch of siblings who all lived under the same roof in the same house and (somehow) in just three bedrooms.  The mind boggles.

I still have a bunch of siblings but we not only don't live under the same roof in the same house anymore, but we don't even live in the same state, the same time zone, or even the same continent anymore!

Sniffle.

As autumn fully sets in and the days, nights, and afternoons are all a bit colder, the rain a bit more frequent, and the daylight a bit more scarce I can't help but think about all those times that we were under one roof and seriously driving each other C.R.A.Z.Y.  I kinda miss those times. Sometimes.  Okay most times.  Or sometimes most of the time.  See?  Residual crazy.

And I think about how some of those siblings are in places with lots and lots of sand and sun and therefore may be missing a time and place where fall truly is a season.

So for you boys?  Here's some fall for you.

 Oh and here's some family too!

 That's right...Return With Honor.

So Long, Farewell...

It happened before.  It happened again.  And we knew it was bound to happen yet again.

And it likely will again. And again. And AGAIN.

First it was Tony zipping off to the Navy after high school.
Then it was Paddy jetting off to Kuwait after college.
And now it's Gabe, zooming off to the Marines.

And while it is quite the challenge to have these siblings so far away, I could not be more proud of them and their choices.  

And to her Uncle Gabe who leaves today, Alana says:

Job Perks

I love my job.  No really, I LOVE my job.
But one of the things I most recently love about my job is that when the registrar is purging old files she runs across this:

And gives them to me. Don't you just want to squeeze his little chubby cheeks?

Number One

Not only did our hometown team get a shout-out on national television last weekend during the OSU-UCLA game, but we rather soundly beat the number one-ranked team in our league (West Albany) to take the number one spot in the STATE!  

Gooooo Silverton Foxes
Foxes are ranked #1!

O’Fest Road Race Series: Race #1--Sibling Submission

            We’ve always been a competitive and athletic family, so when the 2007 Oktoberfest rolled around, those of us with accommodating schedules signed up for the 5K Road Race. The morning was way too early following a hearty Friday night, but we somehow managed to make it to the starting line in time.  Gabe and Greg were still in high school and therefore in top physical condition, despite having played a tough road football game 12 hours prior.  Paddy was still a collegiate decathlete and therefore also in top condition.  I (Tony) was less than a year removed from Special Forces training, which set the stage for a high octane ultra-competitive event…

            Unfortunately for me, the running edge went to the other three boys, regardless of my valiant initial surge to the front.  The not-so-slow yet still steady pace of the other boys soon overrode my misguided effort and I found myself at the back of the only pack that mattered that day.  I matched their pace, but soon found myself falling back despite “encouraging” commentary from each Fennimore boy who passed me.  As I lost sight of them over the last rise which rounded Abbey Hill, I was determined to give a better effort in the second half of the race.

            Down the slope of College St as it enters town, my legs generated new energy and I looked into the distance for the other boys. Despite my vantage point at the beginning of a long straightaway, there was no Fennimores to be seen.  Somewhat crushed at the vanishing prospect of finishing ahead of them, I nevertheless finished my race at a high level in order to salvage at least a little pride.  As I huffed and puffed my way across the finish line, I looked around and couldn’t find the boys anywhere. Minutes later, Gabe led Paddy across the finish with Greg only seconds behind them. After everyone finished catching their breath, it was determined that these three boys had mistakenly turned back down Alder St too soon (where we had begun the race) and sprinted to the finish from the wrong direction, thus adding hundreds of meters to their 5K! They had to turn back the way they came and muster enough energy to finish 2^nd, 3^rd and 4^th behind the inaugural champion, Yours Truly.  After stories were swapped and excuses were made, some minor bragging ensued, which prompted splashing with ice-cold water from water bottles, resulting in a high speed chase and water fight around the field, while exhausted racers gawked in disbelief at the reserves of energy which were on display.  This “controversial” victory spawned a series of races over the next several years.

            The result of this race demonstrates that strength alone is not enough to win the day; a true warrior must use his most valuable weapon: his brain. So stay in school, kids!

*Submitted by #14

And So It Goes...

And with Paddy flying back to Kuwait and school starting up again, thus another summer draws to a close. 

But we did it.

We actually got the entire family in ONE place at the SAME TIME.  Outstanding.  It took countless texts and three (or four) reschedules but we did it.

Now, not everyone was necessarily conscious the entire time:
 

But we certainly had fun...

Swimming in the pool!

 Cousins!

Football!

  Who needs a pack'n'play?

We celebrated summer birthdays too--all SIX of them!

And finally...the proof we were all in one spot at one time.  I'm sure the coming months (and years!) our lives will just get crazier but it's so nice that this summer it worked out.  

 M-wah!
 

Life's a Beach!--Sibling Submission

        So as the youngest I don’t have near as many good family memories from when I was younger. The one thing that I always remember though is all our family trips to the beach. Whether it was just for the day or we would stay overnight at the D’ Sands Hotel. And the great thing about Lincoln City is that they have a outlet mall there with a decent sized toy store called K.B. Toys.

        It was always a tradition to go there and get sand buckets, shovels, kites, and who knows what else. But we’d always go there or throw a tantrum until we got to go there (or throw a tantrum ‘til we got to go there, usually me) and now we are all grown up and don’t go there as a family much anymore, the K.B. Toys went out of business. And I like to joke around saying that we were the ones keeping it in business hahahaha.

        My moment I remember the strongest is the one time we went there and Therese’s boyfriend, now husband, Kevin was on crutches. But that didn’t stop him from coming down into the sand and playing with us young ones. Him and my brothers made this huge circle in the sand and built a kind of bunker looking thing on top of the circle and it looked pretty good. Well I was with my sister and we weren’t around while they were doing all this but we came back and Kevin was sitting in the middle of the circle and the bunker type wall covered up his legs and stuff so I thought that he was standing in this huge pit that they had dug out while we were not around. I was completely amazed and in total awe because this isn’t a short guy he’s a big guy like 6’5” guy. But then I realized he wasn’t standing but just sitting. :)

Submitted by the sibling Maureen

The Second for the Fourth

I have a brother.  

To be honest, I have five brothers but that's not the point right now.

I have a brother who, at 17, enlisted in the Navy and spent several years traveling the world doing cool--and I'm sure not so cool--things, and being all macho military man.  And I'm beyond proud of him and what he has done.  

And now after using the GI Bill (bet he's glad I pay my taxes on time!) he was able to get a Bachelor's degree and will be heading back into the Navy, this time as a hottie shottie officer.  Which of course, I couldn't be happier for him and this new direction for him.

And this brings me to having another brother (yes, we've already established I have four other brothers but that's still not the point), who at age 20 recently (as in last week) also enlisted in the military.  He's gonna be a Marine.  And then he'll spend several years traveling the world doing cool--and I'm sure not so cool--things, and being all macho military man.  Maybe even slightly more macho military man than Navy brother because he is, after all, in the Marines and they rate highest on the macho scale, right?

Fully aware that former statement is going to be debated at future family functions.  Ad nauseum.  Just thought I'd get it started.

And as the Fourth of July nears, it makes me think about my first and second brother who have dedicated their lives, or at least this portion of it, to being told when they can (and this is a direct quote) 'shower, shit, and shave' because they desire to make a difference and serve America and Americans.

And that's pretty cool.  And macho.  But mostly pretty cool.  And while I'll worry myself silly over both of them, I'm also beyond proud of them for following their hearts and for their overwhelming desire to serve.  

So here's to you, Tony & Gabe--thank you and I love you.  

You know, just in case I forget to tell you on the 4th.  

Himping

Himping?

That's right.  Himping.

Combines two of us siblings' favorite things to do: hiking and camping.

Back when everyone was a bit younger, but not too much younger, we made it a point to get out, see more of Oregon, appreciate nature, and get moving.  I have a great little book--titled something along the lines of 60 Hikes Within 60 Miles of Portland, or something like that--and we just started picking at random and have we ever had some good times and great trips!

One of the first trips we took was to a lovely place just Northeast of here called Bagby. And I had not thoroughly checked out the campsite and was very much not prepared with some basic necessities.

I forgot firewood.

I brought a tent that I'd never actually set up by myself before.

The campsite was fairly rustic which meant:

a) we were the only people there

b) it was absent a lovely camp host who did things like refill the toilet paper in the pit toilets

c) there was no source of potable water

d) all of the above

In my family we're a pretty hardy, never say die type though and as the kids explored the area I drove (rather quickly I might add, and yes they were definitely old enough to hang on their own) down the mountainside to a nearby town and bought TP, firewood, and some extra s'mores supplies.

All went well, we had chairs, plenty of food, a new board game to play, a creek/river rushing near the campsite...total bliss...until it came time to set up the tent.  The group of us just couldn't figure it out.  

I was quite upset.  

The boys didn't mind and hacked it on the ground under the stars in their sleeping bags while my lil' sis and I huddled in the back of the station hatchback wagon.  Not my finest night's sleep.

But the next day was great and we drove about 20 miles nearby to the Bagby Hot Springs where we reclined in rustic, rough-hewn logs that we filled with piping hot spring water.  After we were properly pruny, we headed to Pegleg Falls where there was a VERY cool humongous rope swing that quite frankly scared me to death but they enjoyed immensely (I didn't know if was a trustworthy person who had tied the rope and how secure of a branch it was on....we all survived so must have been okay).

As summer nears (though from the snow a couple weeks ago you wouldn't know) I can't help but think of all the places we still get to himp as well as all the lovely places that we have himped in the past.

And with that I'll close with one of my favorite pictures of us on a siblings (+one cousin) hike to Mirror Lake and Tom, Dick, and Harry Peak.

Spring Break...Roar!

Waaaaay back in the Spring Break of 2003 I decided to take as many siblings as could fit in my Pontiac Sunbird (2-door, white) and we sped down I-5 to the exciting destination of...Grants Pass!   Oooooh, you say, how exciting!  I must note that that many kids crammed into that small of space behaved VERY well on the drive down (seriously they were packed in there like a circus clowns in a mini-cooper).

Anyway, Grants Pass was where my good friend was living, having found her first teaching job down there and while she was gone, she let us use her apartment--wasn't that nice of her?  And while it was a lovely apartment, we really had two other destinations in mind: the Oregon Vortex in Gold Hill, Oregon and Wildlife Safari in Winston, Oregon.

The Oregon Vortex is either a grand hoax or a mysterious whirlpool of force, depending on your point of view.  In the House of Mystery my siblings observed golf balls naturally roll up what appeared to be an incline (instead of down as one would expect) and a taller sibling become the shorter sibling as they switched places on what appeared to be level ground.  Truly mind-boggling!  By the time we left they were believers!

The next day we drove a bit further north and visited the Wildlife Safari.  Correction, we drove through Wildlife Safari.  Wildlife Safari is a zoological park in which a 4.5 mile 'trail' winds through various natural gated areas and visitors risk the well-being of their vehicles to drive through the actual habitats.  It was way cool.  Animals from Asia, Africa, and the Americas roam free (do NOT feed the animals, thank you!) and you can park your little car and stare at them as long as your heart desires.  Or you can speed through to the next habitat when a certain four-legged feline starts attacking your rear tire.  NOT the place to mend a flat!

And while it's been a few years since we've managed to go on a trip together for Spring Break, I know that everyone will still celebrate in their own special way and I'll hold out hope that as people get more settled (and local) that we'll have the opportunity to do it again!  Beach house anyone?

St. Paddy for Paddy

St. Paddy's Day...one of us siblings' most beloved holidays.  It's a time for dancing and celebrating and sharing....heck, who am I kidding, we all know what we love it for.  And while it was several generations ago that our Irish ancestors set foot on the Americas, it's days like this that we remember it being just a wee bit closer and like to celebrate it up.  And in the off-season, we each have our own ways of 'owning' this part of our heritage--some by hanging flags in houses, some via Celtic tattoos or jewelry, others music and yet others through clothing or brew choices.  

And one day we'll all travel there and feel that 'home away from home' feeling as we gaze out at the rolling green fields through the smudged window of a tiny Irish pub.  Pint in hand and a song in our hearts.

But in the meantime, since my brother Paddy is so far away on St. Paddy's Day, I decided to do a little tribute to him...here you go, bro!  Here's to hoping you find a way to Irish it up in Kuwait!

P: Pretty, isn't Paddy pretty?

A: Athletic, never seen a guy work so hard and be so tough on his body.

D: Dork...yup, he's a bit dorky sometimes.

D: Dang nice...I was going to say 'darling' but I thought that might be a bit silly, but he truly is a really dang nice guy!

Y: Yee-haw.  That's for the cowboy that hides inside him and suddenly pops out from time to time wearing a hat and wranglers and wants to go shooting.

So here's to you Paddy!

Bouncing Baby, er....Toddler

As the time nears for me to biologically become a parent I find myself looking back at the various adventures, that inevitably led to mishaps from time to time, that were a part of our childhood growing up on a farm.  And I always end up shaking my head in disbelief that somehow we managed to defy what must have been the greatest odds ever, to not only survive but survive with all body parts and all siblings intact and whole.

No exaggeration.

A truly noteworthy feat.

Seriously.

Take for example, 'little' KP as a bouncing baby boy--though truth be told at the time of this particular incident he was more of a toddler than a baby.  And the bouncing part of this description is incredibly important to remember.

And no, you siblings of mine who are reading this, this is not THE KP story that you all think it is.  Seriously, this is at the most a PG-rated family blog and that particular story at least earns a PG-13 rating though most men would say R.

Back to the story that this is, rather than rehashing the one it isn't.  

Growing up our family was known from time to time to gather with other devout Catholic families to pray together (the Rosary) and to hand make Rosaries to be smuggled to the other side of the Iron Curtain (where, we were told, the Communist leaders there would torture and kill people if they found them carrying these religious items--yup, totally cheery, stress-free childhood).

On this particular sunny spring day there must have been 5 or 6 moms, their eldest daughters, and their Rosary kits sprawled about our rectangular shaped living room slipping 10 Hail Mary beads on string, knotting it, one Our Father bead, knotting it...you get the idea, and chatting about various family and religious topics.  

The kids that were too young to string beads were romping upstairs and from time to time we'd hear a thump through the ceiling, pause to hear if it was followed by a cry and when it wasn't, went back to making Rosaries.

I remember coming back from my fourth or fifth trip to the bathroom (yup, I was slacking off) when all of a sudden, right when I entered the living room, one of the mothers let out a blood curdling scream.  Like the rest of the women and girls in the room we quickly looked to where she pointed.  

And managed to see the last segment of my still-in-diapers-brother, KP, fall out of a two-story window.

I didn't know how to swear yet, but whatever my equivalent was at the time, you better believe it was going through my head.

The women rushed outside to check on the toddler KP and I rushed upstairs to check on the rest of the kids.  I flew up one and a half flights of stairs and into the bedroom at the end of the hall where sure enough, a gaggle of tattered boys were leaning out of the second story window.  They appeared to be looking for something and I quickly assumed it was my brother.

I was wrong. 

Let me back track and give you a little landscape here: this was a two-story farm house, circa 1910.  Not only did the windows not fit perfectly in the sills, but there weren't such luxuries as screens either.  This particular window opened up to the tin roof covering the ground floor porch.

In the innocent way of little boys, the window had been open and somehow a toy figurine had landed on the steeply sloped tin roof. 

Well the obvious solution was to dangle the toddler out the window onto the roof and tell him to reach for the toy.

Brilliant boy logic.

It is still undetermined exactly who was holding KP and how and why they let go.  But let go they did and my still-in-diapers-brother, KP, skidded down the tin roof where he was caught in a rather large Camellia tree.  Which managed to hold the stout lad on each branch for approximately 2.5 seconds before dropping him down to the next limb.  Through the large downstairs picture window, it looked like he was bouncing from limb to limb--hence the blood-curdling scream.

It's likely that this branch-bouncing (see I told you to remember he was a bouncing baby boy) saved him from real harm or, as I like to exaggerate (but not by much)...from death.

And there you have it.  One very true example of how it shocks me that all my siblings survived.  Whole and all body parts accounted for.

See?  Perfectly normal, nice guy.