Waiting for Scanner

The photo scanner has arrived, but it not set up yet. Soon, I will be able to scan the pictures to go with the stories and then the blog will come alive!

Coming soon...

Pillow talk
Merika cuts her hair!
A regular Friday night babysitter...
Logan has a paper route, and his bike is stolen.
We vacuum up some big bumble bees.
John get's baptized, and Merika get's stung by a bumble bee.
Logan gets to tend his siblings.

Taking requests- if you want a story, let me know.

The Bikini

I never actually planned for any of my children to dress immodestly and always shopped or sewed accordingly. However, when Shaunika was about 3 years old I was shopping at Pic n Save and there was this cute little yellow seersucker two piece bathing suit, I think it was less than $4.00. It was so cute, that I rationalized that she was so young it wouldn't matter.
I bought it and brought it home. I sent her in the bedroom to try it on.
When she came out, she looked down at her visible tummy, drew a line across her chest area as she said "there is a swimming suit up here", then drawing a line across her pantie area as she said "and there is a swimming suit down here, but", as she pointed to her tummy, "there is no swimming suit here".
I took the swim suit back, if a child of three knows she should be modest then I am not going to corrupt her.

John learned how to say his name.

John has some problems with his speech. When he was almost 3 I asked the pediatrician when to worry. I was starting to worry because he was starting to talk louder if he was not being understood. She said that most kids should be understandable by most adults by the time they are three and at that point she would refer him to speech therapy. He couldn't say his consonants. So instead of mommy it would sound like ummy. Most of the time I could understand what he was talking about because I had been with him all day and knew the context of his comments. Dad had a hard time, and often I did also. But Jeff always knew what he was talking about so I would often ask Jeff what John was saying. He had speech 2 x a week for a number of years. The speech therapist was impressed that he had such good language skills,but he had apraxia, and there was just a disconnect between his brain and his tongue.
He was in about 3rd grade when he could finally say that his name was "John" instead of "On", so since he could make the Ju sound we went to Target and bought him a GI JOE!

Jeff is "Boot Boy"

While we were living in Redondo Beach the McConkie cousins lifed in Manhattan Beach and we had many time when those cousins or some of them were at our house or when our kids were over at their Aunt Shauna's house. Jeff and Alison McConkie are pretty close in age. When Jeff was about 5 years old he used to do a funny thing whenever he was over to McConkie's The way Shauna tells it is that every time (for months)Jeff was dropped off there to play he would go into Alison's room and dig to the bottom of her closet to find her old white boots. He then put them on and wore them the entire time he was there. This went on for months, till Shauna finally just gave them to him, and she told me about it. Apparently, when he had on those boots he was "Boot Boy", I guess they gave him superpowers. He continued to wear them very often, he felt strong when he was wearing them and often took the muscle stance.

Logan says, "Jeff gets to do all the fun stuff!"

In September 1980, we left Kansas and drove across America to Redondo Beach. We stopped in Orem, Utah and stayed a few days with GG and Grant. When Kirt checked with Wayne about the house we had bought it was not quite ready, but Wayne really needed Kirt there. Since we thought Kirt would come back in a week to get us, we went ahead and sent Logan (Kindergarten) with Kirt to get him into school.
It turned out to be a month before I ever got down there with the kids- but that is a different story, for later.

While we were staying with GG & Grant they had the opportunity to go up to Star Valley to see Grant's sister, Carol and her husband, Jack. They were farmers/ranchers. They decided to take Jeff (4) with them, so then I just had Shaunika (3 months old) and John (2). When they returned Jeff told me he had ridden a horse(with someone).

Several months later, when were all settled in Redondo Beach, we were sitting around the table at supper. When I brought a plate of fried check to the table and I guess that caused a light bulb to go on in Jeff's head, and he said "When I was up visiting Uncle Jack and Aunt Carol I saw them chop off the head of a chicken, and then the chicken ran around the yard and then a dog come and licked up the blood!" To that comment, Logan remarked "How come Jeff gets to do all the fun stuff!"

Logan- "when I was a little boy"

All through the years, Kirt has told kids all the interesting stories about when he was a little boy.

When we lived in Kansas, and I was pregnant with Shaunika I had had a really rough day. We had supper, and then I went upstairs and got John (20 months old) to bed. Putting John to bed was quite a routine. He really liked Sesame Street, and around his entire crib he had stuffed characters and bears and toys. He had to say good night to each one. I came back downstairs and after a little while it was time to put Jeffery to bed. I was just so tired, I asked Logan(5-in kindergarten) to take him up and put him to bed. He took Jeff up and it seemed like quite a while before he returned.

When Logan came back downstairs, he told me that he tucked Jeff in and told him "a story about when he(Logan) was a little boy." I had to chuckle.

Coming soon....

- Shaunika slept in a drawer
- Jeff and the chicken
- John and the potato bug
- Merika cuts her own hair
- Logan- the big brother

Jeff and "a note"

Jeff was in 1st grade at Washington Elementary School in Redondo Beach. One day he came home from school and said he didn't feel well and crawled into bed. I think he woke and had a little supper, but then went back to bed. In the morning, I let him sleep in thinking he would just stay home sick. When he woke up he was worried that he was late. I said he could stay home. He got really worried then and said that he had to go to school. I couldn't figure out what was possibly so important that he couldn't miss that day. When I asked him, this was his response. "The teacher said if we are sick and miss school we have to bring a note - and I don't know how to write a note!"

Logan goes to the library...alone

Logan did not read at an early or precocious age, in fact he was well into 1st grade, and had really not caught on. I went to Pic-n-Save and found some black and white comic books that were classics. (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Frankenstein, etc) They were .19 each, and I bought every different story that they had. At home, Logan discovered that they had an interesting and fairly advanced story, but in comic form. I was glad- he seemed interested in the books himself.(Instead of being read to)I thought, OK, this might work- you read a comic from left to right, like a page in a book. By the time he had gone through all those comics he had caught on to the concept and really started to want to read everything...

Years later, to the despair of his teachers he would read 3-4 books throughout the school day- instead of the boring work that they were trying to teach.He always had several books at a time that he was reading.

At the library in Redondo Beach a person was allowed to check out 10 books with their library card. We discovered that 10 books was just not enough to keep him happy between trips to the library.

In about 4th grade we decided that if Logan could safely ride his bike to the library and home again then he could take everyone library card and get multiples of 10 books for himself. It was a little difficult to show him the way there and back because their were so many one-way streets.

With my fingers crossed and a prayer in my heart I let him ride off the the library, hoping that he would return safely, and knowing that when he did he would have 40 books with him (and that might be enough for a week or two).

I waited for his return, and it didn't happen quite as soon as I expected, but eventually he did make it home. He was so happy, he just went into his room, tossed the backpack on the bed, took out a book and started reading.

Later, he did admit that he was reading a book as he was riding home, and missed his turn and was not quite sure where he was until he realized that he could see Warren's house in the far distance- and he knew his way home from there, so he would be able to make it home ok- so that he would be able to ride the bike again to the library in a few weeks.

2400 Ralston Lane, Redondo Beach

When we moved to Redondo Beach in 1980, it was our 11th move in 7 years of marriage. Kirt had come from Kansas by himself to buy the house. I told him I wanted a good neighborhood, a big back yard, and not to walk into the house and see the kitchen sink. I got all that, but as he tried to tell me about it there was no way I could imagine it- I mean, if you were spending $100,000 on a house, "how bad could it be?" Where we were living in Kansas some friends were unable to sell their huge house for $130,000 and it had 1 acre of land, an indoor BB court, formal DR, and formal LR, lot of bedrooms and bathrooms, etc..... Our new home was about 900 square feet.
Shaunika was 3 months old, John was 2, Jeff had just turned 4, and Logan was 6. I felt it would be a good starter house- but we ended up there for 8 years, and by the time we moved to Placentia, Merika had been born, and Jessica was living with us. Logan was just going to start HS when we moved to Orange County, in 1988.

Stout Brothers Roofing Company

We were living in Kansas, Kirt was still in the military. Wayne called to invite Kirt to join him in his roofing business. "There way surely enough roofs to keep two families supported". "It pays well, and you will earn $3000 a month!"
We planned for that even though many advised us not to go into business with family, we were naive and even remarked, "If anyone can go into business with Wayne it would be Kirt as he gets along with everyone and had a good business head."
Kirt went out from Kansas and bought us a house- 900 Sq. ft. for $100,000.
Our house payment without taxes would be just over $1000 a month. We never actually made $3000 any month. Each Friday, Wayne would give Kirt a check for $500- his earnings for the week. I went and stood in line at the bank to put half in savings and half in checking. The savings so we would have money to pay the mortgage, and the checking to pay for food, and all other expenses.

Swimming in Trash Can Lids

Shortly after we moved to Redondo Beach we bought new large trash cans. The lids were about 12 inches high/deep. When they were new, and it was hot(summer)we would turn them over and fill them with water. They made nice, individual swimming pools for whichever child wanted the comfort of the cool water.
Later, the kids told their teachers that they went swimming in trash can lids. I wonder what they thought!
These lids were also great to make a terrarium type thing. John would fill them with dirt and he and Jeff would put in some twig trees and make diorama type places for the G.U.T.S. guys, or little GI Joe guys.
Sometimes John would make a little nature scene and collect bugs in them.

Shaunika's musings...

If you were to ask a child today where money comes from, he or she would most likely answer with one of the following responses: “From the ATM,” or “From Mommy and Daddy.” When I was a child, there were no ATMs and mommy and daddy certainly didn’t have any money. As a matter of fact, for a period of about 8 years, when it came time to pay the bills and the house payment every month, my parents didn’t have all the money necessary and didn’t know where it would come from, either. But every month, we somehow got the money, and then pressed forward anticipating the next month. Between the times when I was two-months and eight-years-old, my family lived in Redondo Beach, California, but unlike the image that California portrays, life isn’t all a beach. Yes, we lived only a mile from the sand and surf, the bronze suntans, the relaxing picnics and games of Frisbee, the sound of the waves crashing and seagulls calling, but life was too hard and too busy to partake of such posh. And yet, somehow, I look back on those days with no disappointments and no un-met desires. Along with my five siblings, we had a good life; not because of money, but rather, the lack thereof. We, together as a family, made it through the hard times. Never once did my parents let on that there was no money, but instead, we just lived simply, indulging in a life revolved around one another, not the plush things of the world; hence, we children never even thought about money—or the fact that there was none.

I don’t remember having gone to very many movies during my childhood, and when we did, it was usually at the drive-in where you pay per car. All six of us kids would jump in the rusty van or the old Hornet and with my parents; we would set off for a night out. My mom would have popped popcorn beforehand and put it in separate bags so that we would each have one. This usually avoided a lot of unnecessary conflict. We didn’t know any better, so we thought life was great. Outings to the drive-in were rare, though. Usually, for evening entertainment, all the kids would grab their pillows and blankets and come out into the living room for story telling. We would turn all the lights off and light the oil lamp. The dim flickering gave the room an almost mystical setting, which was just perfect for what we called “Pillow Talk.” Not a very fancy name, but we loved the event. In the darkness of the room, with my dad and mom sitting on the couch and all six of us lying on the floor with our pillows and blankets, the lamp creating the perfect lighting (and helping to save on the electricity bill), we would listen to stories from my parents’ childhood. We had names for all the stories and usually wanted to hear all the same ones--over and over again. We loved to hear about the dead cow bones, and when dad’s older brother got left behind at a gas station on a family road trip, and digging out the basement—fifty buckets a day, and when he and his brothers once rolled some huge tires down a long, steep hill and an old man made them push them all the way back up to the top in, of course, the worst heat of the day. There were so many more, so many that we had heard time and time again, but still, every Pillow Talk, we wanted to hear those same stories.

Our furniture wasn’t the best in those days either. We weren’t too worried about quality, just whether or not we had a table to eat on and everybody had a bed to call their own. Our house was small, with only two bedrooms, one for my parents and one for the girls. Our one-car garage functioned as a bedroom for the three boys. Usually, when converting a garage into a room suitable for living, one must adhere to several building requirements that meet certain codes. However, all we did was padlock the garage door shut and lay squares of carpet samples on the floor. The room didn’t even have a door, just a curtain that hung in the doorway. The boys, with their bunk bed set, one single bed, and two dressers, also shared the room with a freezer and our family’s food storage. All of this in a one-car garage. Since Logan was the oldest he slept in the single bed, while Jeff and John shared the bunk. John, being the youngest, was on the bottom, while Jeff occupied the top. One day, Jeff and Logan were fighting in the living room. After a few minutes, Jeff went running into the bedroom and jumped up on his bed in attempt to escape his big brother. Logan ran right after him and jumped on top also. This particular bunk bed was so old and frail, that with the weight of both boys, the top bunk came crashing down on top of little John who was trying his best to stay out of the commotion by peacefully reading a book. Dad was able to fix the beds and put them back together, but from that day on, John slept on the top, no longer being afraid of the high bed.

Living in California meant growing up with earthquakes. Early one morning the shaking awakened the family. I was probably no older than six, but having been through so many, I considered myself a connoisseur of earthquake survival. This particular morning I didn’t feel so confident. In the girls’ room, I was on the top bunk, so when my bed started swaying back and forth, I was way too scared to jump down. I just sat there crying, calling out, “Daddy, daddy, HELP!” The rest of the family had made it outside, but with books falling from the shelves and cups from the cupboards, my dad ran back inside to rescue me.

During this period of time that we like to refer to as our years of poverty, hunger, and dirt, my parents worked several jobs to make ends meet. My mom took care of her own children and babysat two others, she sewed and cross-stitched different patterns for a local fabric store to use as display items (some of these clothing items she was able to keep, thus providing us with great clothes to wear), and working evenings at the nearby hospital, Little Company of Mary, as a nurse. My dad worked at Northrop on the 747 airplane in their contracts department, and worked as a roofer and roofing contractor, then also went to graduate school one or two evenings a week. My older brothers also had paper routes. I didn’t have a route until I was a few years older, but they would pay me twenty-five cents or sometimes even fifty to help them fold the papers and deliver them. Times were tough and money was tight, but we never went hungry.

Since those eight years in Redondo Beach, we have had times of feast and times of famine, but never a better growing and learning experience as we did then. Each of us saw life from a different perspective, thus making those years harder on some than others. Some of us had challenges that people should never have to deal with, but in the end, or at least looking in hindsight, I’d like to think that those times changed us for the better. Our family grew closer and Mom and Dad became my heroes. I learned that it doesn’t necessarily take money to move forward—just faith in one’s self to push ahead and never stop trying, and faith in God to make it all work.

Changing Directions...

I am going to use this blog strictly for old family memories. I will upload some pictures as I find them and use this venue to tell the stories of our lives - when we lived in poverty, hunger and dirt.

Still Working...

When we got everything boxed up from Birke's room and rearranged the furniture we looked at the walls and thought "This room needs to be painted!!" Which really means we need to fill a hundred little holes made by tacks and then painted.
I think we will wait, our new plan has us cutting away part of the wall on the wall that backs to the hall, removing the door, and putting long built ins along the west wall for 2 computers. We will move the office there and it will be sort of a light airy loft at the top of the stairs. You have to see it to imagine it. Then we can have the 2 larger bedrooms at the front of the house for guest.
This won't happen soon, so next week I will move my sewing machine in there and get it set up so I can make Samantha a pillowcase when she comes to sleep over.

Too Much Good Stuff!

Yes, it is finally time for your Stout Family Recipe Blog. You can find it at http://stoutcookin.blogspot.com/
Hope you will stop in from time to time and check it out.

Empty Nest

I am cleaning his room, and putting away stuff, packing up all the trophies, taking down posters, did I mention cleaning, and reclaiming the space. Sami slept over this weekend in a bed with a lavender quilt, she felt it was cool to sleep in Birke's old room and liked his light.
Birke is at BYU-Idaho for the next two semesters and then he plans to work in Arizona so we might not see him for a while. We miss him already, and YES, I continue to cook too much food!