34 YEARS AND COUNTING!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! :)  Today is MY day to remember the great things about my life, how I have changed, the trials that I have endured and the wonderful things that I have learned. My day to talk about ME!

I grew up in Sandy, Utah and still to this day, that is home to me. I have VERY fond childhood memories stashed away and every now and again, I let them resurface, as I dream of rewinding time. I loved Madrid Way and I still do! The neighbors, the schools, the ward(s), my friends....all of it was so.....HOME! Looking back now as I age, it's starting to blur like wet paint on a canvas that has been too watered down. It is still there, just not as vivid.

  

I always felt safe and I always knew that I was loved. I loved school.  I had a deep passion for sports.  I had an overflowing love for dogs that still remains in my blood today.  I had many moments of sorrow, hate, regret, pain, anxiety, fear, hope, laughter, excitement, calmness, joy and love.  They are chronologically ordered in my soul.  I hope to never forget them, for I have learned from them.  I have changed from them.

I am now a wife of one, mother of four and dog owner of two.  As I think of the road that I traveled down to get here, I am amazed at where the time has gone.  I know that along the way I had help. It was more divine than I can imagine.  Much of  the road along my path of life was muddy and swampy with a cliff on both sides.  Sometimes it was sandy and dry, without an end in sight. But somehow, with a lot of help from above, I had a desire to go on and persevere. 

I am thankful for every bit of my life.  I am thankful for what I have been blessed with.  I love my family and kids and wouldn't trade my life for anything.  The only thing I would change.......my age!  

CAN I TAKE IT BACK????

Shortly after posting my, 'why I hate christmas' spill, my mind began to wander....in a VERY different direction, from that which was previously said. I couldn't help, but sit down and let my fingertips tell the story of my childhood holidays and how I felt and what I knew deep inside my soul.

Growing up, as most kids are, I was VERY unaware of my family's financial status. I knew that we weren't rich and I refused to admit that there might be a chance that we were considered poor. After all, we never got the 'free or reduced meals' from school (at least not that I know of), and I knew that our needs were met and that seemed sufficient.

My mom, out of the graciousness of her heart and her love for us, stayed at home to attend to me and my siblings' needs. A mother that is willing and able to stay home for her kids' sake, is by far a stronger woman, than one who seeks out a career outside the home, in my opinion. However difficult that was for her at that time, I never knew and I was thankful that, when I walked through our door after school, she was home.

My dad, out of pure love and duty, consistently went to work. Not only did he work, he worked hard. He rarely took sick days. In fact, I don't recall him ever taking one. He rarely even took time to eat lunch. I have saved and compiled many images and memories of him, getting up before the sun rose and returning once it had already set. The thing that I remember most, is that he never complained, not once. Those long hours that he would spend at the office, during tax season, year after year, proved him impervious. I don't remember him ever complaining about what he had to do, he just did it. It reminds me of what he worked for; food, shelter, clothes, family and Christmas.

So, to redeem myself of my grinch-like qualities I must post on what I love(d) about Christmas. 

Christmas eve was ALWAYS spent at grandma and grandpa Taylor's house, with all the cousins, aunts, uncles and dear friends. We had dinner and the most delicious home-made Swedish cookies, that were sprinkled with sugar and so carefully shaped and placed. I remember having a hard time choosing what cookie I really wanted, when grandma would circle about the living room, carrying the shiny, Sterling Silver platter, of desserts. Of course, I always went back for seconds. The night seemed endless as we talked, laughed and played. Going home was the toughest part, as I knew that falling asleep was next to impossible, on a night like that.

Christmas mornings were early, very early. They were exciting and they were curious. All of us kids would sit on the stairs that led to the basement, where the tree was. We would position ourselves with our flannel blankets, wrapped tightly around us and wait for dad to stoke the fire. This always seemed like an eternity! Once dad was done, we all ran down the stairs as fast as we could to see what awaited us. The beautiful tree, with presents lovingly tucked beneath it.

The morning was grand to say the least! Once we had fully unwrapped every last gift, played a few games, tried on our clothes and fiddled with our over-stuffed stocking goods, it was time to have grandma and grandpa for breakfast. Bacon, eggs, grapefruit, pancakes, orange juice and milk, were always on the menu for Christmas morning. I loved it! For that day.....time stood still.

I miss those days, when 'Santa' remembered to stop at our house. He never once forgot! I miss knowing that he cared enough to provide gifts for me. I miss those mornings that seemed to bring him so much joy, seeing me happy. I miss having him there in the room with me, watching as I ripped the paper from my presents, anxious to see what was inside. I miss all of it! I will always miss that.

So, as I think of my younger years and reminisce on what was, please know that I am appreciative of what Mr. and Mrs. Clause were able to do for me. For their willingness to give and be generous about it. I will never forget it. The memories have been welded into my soul will forever remain.

I have come to the conclusion that making these same memories for my kids, is by far the most important thing to me. It isn't what they get, it is the feelings and the surroundings they live for. Although Christmas will never be my favorite holiday, I want it to be the best for my children, as I am now a replica of 'Santa', watching with love in my soul, as my kids do just what I did. I get to see it first hand and be a witness that 'Santa' IS still around!

I WONDER WHY

(I hate Christmas that is)

Give me a moment to spill myself and my emotions, about Christmas.  

I haven't always hated Christmas, I don't think.  But, without fail, every October I realize that the holidays are knocking at the door....and I don't want to answer it.  I don't even want to acknowledge that I heard it.

 I hate the clutter.   I hate the rich desserts that are given on those Christmas paper plates so carefully wrapped in colored Saran Wrap and sealed with curly ribbon tied at the top. It just gets thrown away because I can't palate it.  I hate the messy decorations strewn about the house, most of them broken(2 yr. old doings) with shards hidden in the carpet, only to be found by the barefoot that steps on it.   

I hate coming up with ideas for friends and family.  It's too stressful for me. It's too much expended mind power that gets me frustrated and frazzled.  I get worried that I will forget someone, so I just leave everyone out.  I hate cards...waste of money.  I'd rather pretend that this year  Christmas will be spent in bed.  With my eyes closed.

Is that sad?  Is this normal?  I just don't care really.  Presents can be given year-round for any occasion.  It bothers me to see people pushing and stressing to get a 'good deal' or to get the 'sale' items.  It just doesn't set well with me.  I guess that perhaps I have never been that way, so I can't understand it.  I don't want to understand it.

I am in no way degrading the life of our savior and the marvelous life he lived.  I'd just prefer to leave it at that and be non-commercial about it.  The stress.  The crowds.  The hustle.  And I believe the thing that I hate most about Christmas isn't really Christmas itself, but the month that it occurs in.  The COLD month of December.  

I hate cold!  I hate snow!  If Christmas were in July.......well.....I'd still dislike it. 

I LOVE IT...EVERY BIT OF IT!

                                      Every muscle of mine harbors jealousy as I watch my daughter do what I lived for 19 years ago...playing basketball.

My mind recalls the day of tryouts.  Close to 200 girls packed in the gym of Hillcrest high school in hopes to get their name written on the page to show up again the following day for another try at making the team.  I recall being very calm as I did what I knew how to do best and I wasn't surprised to find that I was chosen to come back the next day for the second round of cuts.  Because of the high volume of girls the process was long, but fun nonetheless.

On the final day of cuts I worried a bit, but was sure that the coaches would see my potential that even I couldn't see.  They did!  I was on the team.     Those first few years of ball were the best years of my life!  I'd go back to that anytime if I wasn't in my old-boned body now.  But....

Here's the thing.  My oldest daughter, Madison has decided to try basketball this year.  She likes it and is becoming very good.  She has HUGE potential and I am thrilled to see her take an adventure down a road that I once traveled.

Here's the problem.  She lacks the self-confidence that I, too, lacked.  As I watch her run about the court, it's almost as though I am watching myself play.

  

I was afraid to get the ball as to not fumble it and lose it.  I didn't want to shoot the ball...what if I missed? I didn't want to shoot a free-throw.... all eyes were on me!   My daughter has inherited these same flaws that I had and it drives me CRAZY!!!

I love Madison and hope that she doesn't make the same mistake that I did and hold herself back from lack of confidence.  I believe that she, too, can hold the school record for the highest amount of assists and the most steals in one year.  Not to mention her ability to shoot the ball.  I love her and hope that she is playing for HER love for the game and not for the passion that I had. Because to be honest, I can enjoy ball whether it be me playing, o to re-live it  through watching her. 

Good job Madison.

NINE YEARS AGO

The vivid memory of the wonderful day(Friday, November 23, 1999), when I gave birth to my boy, Jacob, still lingers fresh in my mind.  The last few weeks leading up to the greatest day of receiving him into my arms, were exhausting to say the least.  I never did have an appetite throughout this particular pregnancy,  I wondered how this little man was managing to survive within the womb receiving so little nourishment.  I just couldn't eat...the Prozac was to blame for this one.  I am assured that every calorie, carbohydrate, fiber or vitamin that DID go down my esophagus and into my stomach, Jake managed to rapidly consume before I could take in any of it for myself(which is what I prayed for).  I just became skinnier, more tired and was constantly nagged by a concerned father and husband for the well being for both of us.

Jacob hung in there until the very moment that he decided to make his grand appearance here on Earth.

It was a rather gloomy day, as is the Pacific Northwest in mid-November.  I recall being a bit nervous since it had been 4 and a half years since my previous birth and all the memory of pain and bleeding and hospital food was no longer in my library of memories.  I was ready.

Labor didn't seem bad, the pain was minimal and the anticipation couldn't have been greater!  My first boy.  Who would he resemble?  What would his personality be like?  Will he be healthy? These were just a few questions among others that raced through my mind, while waiting for that magical moment for a homemade person to really come to  Earth, through that thin veil that they so willingly slide through.

  

Labor began and I wanted him here now!  Not long after labor began, I beheld the most beautiful, precious boy.  I have never before seen such perfection!  He was well proportioned(except for his cone-shaped-head). He cried. I cried.  Bill cried. The moment that I had been awaiting, was now right at my fingertips.  I lovingly stroked his velvet cheeks, his wrinkled hands, his bright orange hair.  I thanked my Heavenly Father in my heart for every bit of that boy!  He was my love. My hope. My prayer. My Jake.

He is 9 today and I quiver at the thought of how time passes if you don't take a moment, or two to enjoy it. He is still that very boy that I delivered that rainy November morning.  He is full of love, compassion, knowledge, tenderness, giving and many more Christ-like qualities that I am thankful for. 

Happy birthday to you Jacob!  I love you with all of my heart.  To the moon and back.  You mean the world to me.  Thanks for being mine.  I couldn't live without you! mom

SIMPLY DIFFERENT

It seems that I have been unable to do what I love to do.....blog.  After a minor knee surgery, a painful recovery, a husband in the ER twice in one week,  studying for my two classes, kids & homework, young women's & basketball(maddy), scouts & soccer(Jake), getting to know my Ashley intimately again like I once did pre-Amber and the UNDIVIDED attention that Amber demands..... I am falling short on one of my favorite past times, blogging.

Normally, I can't stand dirty floors, stinky bathrooms, full garbage cans, pantry in complete disarray, carpet covered with wrappers, blankets, pillows, cushions from the sofas, pens & pencils, game pieces all over the front room, crumbs on the kitchen counter and everywhere else in the kitchen, toothpaste smeared in the drawer, laundry overflowing the hampers, dust settled in every crevice. 

Not to mention the reminders on the walls from last year when Amber discovered Sharpie pens, the smudges on windows left from halloween frosting hands and the sweatshirts that are thrown on the mud-room floor.  The countless pairs of shoes that are found in every place, but where they should be, and the bedrooms that are horrendous.  Needless to say, I am in love.

I am in love with today.  I am in love with my kids and their ability to feel comfortable at their home. I am in love with my husband who now has a 3" scar on his right arm and a cracked heel accompanied by a HUGE hematoma on his left foot.  I am in love with my environment and where I am today.  I am in love with my dogs. I am in live with love.

Tomorrow may bring something new and different, but as for now, my heart is swelling with love and comfort for life and living, family and friends.

SINGIN' IN THE BATH--RATED "G" (HIDDEN NUDITY)

Maddy is very good at bathing Amber to keep her busy when I am busy making dinner, folding laundry, running kids to soccer practice etc.  She was gingerly combing Amber's hair and having her sing some songs without knowing that daddy was recording her (and please notice the little scowl that Amber gives when she sees dad and the camera).  I just love this.  Not only because Amber sings so dang cute, but I love the way that Maddy loves Amber.  I am thankful for all the help that Maddy gives me.  Love you Mads. 

 Enjoy the unrecognizable tunes as they are impromptu :)

P.S. turn my music off to hear Amber's sweet voice.

DOCTORS ORDERS-(EXCUSE THE BLOOD)

 

Wednesday, October, 22 @ approximately 8:30 a.m. I had an arthroscopy done on my left knee.

Sometime this last June while visiting a lovely park with my kids and some friends of ours,  I had an accident and literally heard my knee "POP".   It hurt so bad and I was so embarrassed as to how I hurt it, that I quickly sat back down and proceeded to pretend as though I was still getting my bag put together so that we could all move into the shade.  After 3 attempts at standing up and failing, I knew something was wrong with my knee.  

I managed to hobble over to the shaded knoll where the others had taken their blankets,bags, towels & goodies unnoticed by others that my knee was in excruciating pain.  I quickly fell back down and tried to keep my kids rounded up as to not go too far(I knew I couldn't help them if they needed it.) We stayed a bit longer and I was glad to be going home when we did.

Days went by and my knee just wasn't the same.  I couldn't bend it like I used to.  I couldn't run like I wanted to.  I couldn't play with the kids like I had done before, so it was time to see the doctor(This is a whole other story in itself that I won't get into).

I went to the Slocum center and Dr. Straub ordered an MRI on my knee and the results came back not so reassuring.  I needed a little surgery to fix what I had done.  This was no surprise to me however.   

I am glad to have doctors who know what they are doing.  My knee was very sore for a while with the fluid surrounding my patella, but it is getting better daily!

  

Sorry about the blood for those of you who are faint at heart.  The chunk that you see at the bottom, right corner of the internal knee pictures was supposedly what was causing the pain.

FEAR?

                                                                    

 I have always, as an adult been DEATHLY afraid of these slippery, ugly, scaly serpents that silently slither through the grass and weeds in an attempt to get me! I just KNOW that is their only agenda in life.......to hunt me down! 

I remember when I was younger, my sister and I had a "pet" snake that we kept in an empty diaper box in our garage.  One morning as I went out to visit and feed him......he was gone!  I think it was at that point that I became aware of their ability to elude and never be seen again.  I was scared that he would jump out at me and constrict my throat for keeping him in a box, where he didn't belong.  As I aged, the fear became massive.  I was completely enervated of any positive thoughts about snakes.  It grew, grew, grew, and continued until bi-weekly I'd have nightmarish dreams of them reading my thoughts and picking me out of the crowd to attack.  I hated it!  I still do......HOWEVER...

Yesterday I was out tilling up our depleted garden before the rains come and it get too muddy.  And like always my thoughts turned to wondering how many serpents have taken our corn  field and made a home out of it.  I didn't care much, because, well,  John Deere tractor tiller VS. snake....I knew who the winner would be.  I was also very calm in the fact that I didn't have to place foot in the dirt I just plowed right through.

  

As I was winding down that last pass of the garden, right smack in front of me slowly slithered an ugly, stunned-looking snake.  Now you have to know that despite my fear of snakes I don't have the heart to hurt them (well not anymore.)  I turned the tractor off, got down, got close to mr. reptile and I felt bad. Because he was non-aggressive, I took the plunge.  

With my heart about to jump out of my chest and pounding far more beats than a heart should ever be capable of, I reached to pick him up!  My hands grabbed his skinny tail, I swallowed the lump in my throat and just pinched my thumb to my finger and lifted.  I wished at that point that my arms could have been maybe a foot or two longer.  I let out a scream of success, disgust, fear and jubilance all in one very-high-pitched tone that I didn't think my vocal chords could produce! 

I carefully examined him and found no injuries.  I then had to have someone get the evidence that I did in fact overcome one of my greatest fears.  Now, for those of you that aren't afraid of snakes, just think of your fear and conquering it!  Whether it be heights, moths, germs, rabid dogs, birds, mice etc.  you get the point.

So there you go and I'll never do it again!!!

FALL IN OREGON

As I sit here in the quietness of my cozy home out in the country, in the middle of the day, hearing only the humming sound of this computer, the ticking of my plethora of clocks, the intermittent sound of cars frequently traveling down Mosby Creek and the muffled breathing of my dogs, as they lay in wait for the kids to come home...I am at peace at least for now.

I am engrossed with the seasons (particularly fall), since that is the time of year we are in and it brings on such vivid realizations of life. However, it sometimes catches me by complete surprise that it is in fact the middle of October and the leaves haven't yet decided that it is cold enough to call it quits for the year.  The fact that I live in the Pacific Northwest and the majority of the trees here are coniferous, doesn't allow me to see gorgeous color-changing trees on the mountain side, that I once viewed just a year, or so ago, while living in Utah.  The conifers here in my region of the nation, far outnumber the deciduous trees that are sporadically spread through the town in Draper. Because they are fewer in number, it somehow makes them stand out in their uniqueness, more so than I can remember.  You see, this isn't a  complaint,  rather an observation that was once unnoticeable to my eye, but is now shockingly beautiful.  I don't like change much, but as I lay in my room staring at the massive amounts of pine trees...I smiled.  I smiled because I let my heart open to seeing something different.  The same thing that was here last year, is just being seen in a different light.  My soul was struck with joy. I have a hard time seeing beyond what I have always know, but today is different.

I then couldn't resist taking pictures of the "few" trees that are deciduous just for evidence as they are fewer and far between, along with the beautiful conifers that hold that deep green color year-round, without letting the weather change what they are.

The weather changes me.  I so badly wish that it wouldn't, or couldn't, but it does.  Sometimes in a negative way.  Sometimes a positive one.  The dreary clouds that hang overhead like a predator waiting to pounce on me, the victim, can and does get a little overwhelming when my vitamin D gets low and needs a boost.  The colder temps that always send a chill through my bloodstream and allow my extremities to feel nearly frostbitten, doesn't set well with me either, as I truly am cold-blooded (in a good way).

The positives that I try so hard to take the time to view the beauty of,  are the ones that only occur in the fall and winter... like the fog.  The every-morning-every-day fog that is always so cozily and peacefully nestled against the ground and tucked into the crevices of the bottoms of the mountainside, near our home.  I love the way it rests at the very bottom of the area and allows a few of the taller trees to peek through.  It feels like a movie. It feels like a dream. A blurry one where the vividness is a bit smeared and clouded over, but nonetheless neat and very amazing.  

I do have to admit that one of the things that I hated when I first moved to Oregon was the way that the moss hung from EVERY tree as if it was part of it.  It clung to every branch and surrounded them and drooped like soggy, mushy, gooey stuff.  In the winter it stayed wet, in the summer it is crusty-like and hangs in an attempt to over-take the tree itself. Every square inch is covered and hanging and growing. It was a disturbingly ugly sight at first, but then it changed-----or maybe I did.  It is now very neat.

So, in all,  I have taken the Oregon weather that I once despised and have turned it into a positive thing for me (at least in my head and only on THE RIGHT OCCASIONS).  I love what I see and I love that it is unique in it's very own manner.

MUST LOVE LABS

Here are my dogs----Tara with the broad nose-----Daisy with the skinny.

 These are the dogs that slobber all over MY domain. The dogs that eat gross things and come in with horrible breath because they've eaten things that I won't mention.  The dogs that think OUR toilets are THEIR water bowls----dripping all over the bathroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen. And it always so happens that I disgustingly find it with my bare feet, or my bare bum :)  These are the mutts that try every morning to take over MY bed as I am clinging under a sliver of covers and barely any mattress.  These are the pooches that I stumble over in the kitchen as they lie in wait for something to get flung to them (preferably meat).  These are the hounds who's fur is everywhere imaginable........literally!  These are the doggies who's wet noses are smeared all over every window in the house.  These are the dogs that nap constantly in the sun just to make me jealous.   These are the mutts that are constantly in my way and I like it.

WHO'DA THOUGHT

I have the hardest time getting my sweet boy Jake, to put his clean socks, undies, pants and pajamas away when I have folded them.  Seems like a fairly easy task right?  WRONG!  He will often come to my room, grab his pile of nice smelling clothes and toss them into his room on the floor.  So, every time I do the laundry I remind and re-remind him to actually put them away.  He agrees, but then goes ahead and throws his shirts on the floor in the closet and closes the door.

Seriously.......I get so dog-gone frustrated that he can't just hang them up.  He has plenty of hangers, so really, I don't see the difficulty in my request. Day after day after darn-stinkin' day I have to harp on him to hang those shirts up. So, trying to please me, he did just that!

 Who'da thought that ONE hanger could hold THREE-FOUR shirts?  Not me.  I really had no argument with this as he did what I asked.  I just giggled and giggled when I opened the closet door and found this!!  Shirts crammed onto hangers and then squashed together to keep them from falling off!  I was actually shocked at the creativity here folks!  He's a genius.  I had no argument and although it bugs the crap out of me.....I'm not correcting this one!  Love you Jake!

BREAKFAST OF CHAMPS

I typically do not eat breakfast!  Today was an exception.  Everyday that I take the kids to school we pass the lovely small town "Country Donut" shop and I have always had the will power to resist---NOT TODAY!!!  I pulled into the parking lot, sent Maddy in to get 2 dozen donuts and I have been regretting it ever since.

We were even running a little late, but those dumb donuts sounded so darn good and let me reassure you....they were.  The kids slammed a couple down their throats on the way to school and the smell was too much for me to bare.  I headed home hoping to put them somewhere in the kitchen where they wouldn't sit and stare at me all day.  Instead I set them right in the middle of the island, box open, scent filling the air and that was it.

I grabbed not just one, but two fattening donuts and a calorie packed, caffeinated Mt. Dew and called it breakfast.  I felt sick for a moment after, but the taste was just too good to be true.  The day goes on and the donuts sit in their box, calling to me again.  FOUR total donuts today and feeling very guilty about the bad choice to pull into that darn parking lot, in the first place! I can feel them weighing on my hips....feels just lovely. The amount of exercise that is needed to burn these buggers off----I can't think about it.

SHE IS DONE

with diapers that is!

For the last 4 days I have been having Amber who is only 28 months old, wear big girl undies. (I say "only 28 months" cuz she is my baby)!  Like most potty stories, the first few days I would teeter back and forth with the diaper---then undies, diaper---undies etc.  I finally  just realized that she is going to get mixed signals if I continue my indecisiveness.

I came to grips with the fact that I am just going to have to face that dreaded poo accident that she will have at least once or twice in her unders. Also the pee accidents that I am sure will occur somewhere we regularly sit (like our sofa, or bed).  I can see it now...standing with a befuddled look on her face, pee streaming down her legs as she stands wondering why all of the sudden her urine is free to fall where she stands.

So I plunged in with all my might, hope, prayers, praises, confidence and love that I could muster up for potty training my last little one....AND IT WORKED!!!

I now am the proud mom of a potty-trained 2 yr. old and am loving it.  Although her bladder is still rather small and she escorts me to the bathroom far too many times in one day, I am free at last!  She still wears a pull-up at night, but hey, that is just fine with me as long as I don't have to cart around diapers anymore.

Amber caught on very quickly and loves to get praised for it.  I love her, and like the other kids, she too is growing up far too fast.

FRIENDS NIGHT

My oldest daughter, Madison has this way of conjuring up these"hang-out" dates with friends right before my eyes and somehow she gets my approval before I even know what I've agreed to.

Last weekend, she invited three boys and one girl- friend to our house to hang out, eat, play, eat some more etc.  Brandon Macintosh, Mitchell Larsen, Jay Kyle and Megan McCasline came over for a fun night @ the Crofts' house.  I have to admit that I was not looking forward to having a bunch of sweaty pre-teens at my house with stinky feet on my carpet, boy germs everywhere, food spilled, wrappers strewn across the patio etc. It turned out that I (and yes I know I am an adult) was totally into this party!!! I am very proud of Maddy and the friends that she has chosen.  They are great people and they didn't seem to care that Maddy's little brother and sister snuck their way into the fun.

Here are just a few pics of the night.  It was fun for some good friends to get together outside of the school setting.

FALL TRADITION

Every year when fall approaches we have this little tradition of going to the local farmhand feed store and purchasing 50-70 bales of straw.  Bill loves to take the truck and trailer to town and bring home what will later that day become a "fort" for the kids, or rather an "accident waiting to happen".
 
Sometimes it turns out to be a maze or whatever the kids can conjure up.  They use their imagination and Bill and I sit and watch them go to work.  The straw is theirs to do whatever they desire (except lighting it on fire)!!!!

Here are the kiddos enjoying the straw bales.  And here is the dad that provides all the fun for them! Such a fun and memorable tradition for the fall.