The Ichthus

When I was 18 we had to take a test, during a college/career assessment.  This test would help us determine what jobs would be the best for us depending on our personality.  I had no real idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, so I was relying on this test.

As I reviewed the results, I saw the job of mortician and instantly knew this test wouldn’t help me.  So I researched highest paying jobs with least amount of school.  I found financial advisor.  That was the route I was going to take until I determined what I wanted to be when I grew up.

When I was 24 I passed a finance exam.  It wasn’t just any exam, it was thee exam that would allow me to give advice and sell any kind of investment product.  It was thee exam that I knew would carry me through my career and help me climb that ladder.  It tested me on everything there was to know and I passed it.  I can still remember the absolute jitters when I hit “submit” and was waiting my score. 

To celebrate my passing of this exam, I wanted to do something big, something monumental.  My friend suggested a tattoo.  I thought that was a great idea.  The passing of this exam cemented my future in the finance industry so why not celebrate in a permanent way.

The problem was, what to tattoo?  I had no real idea what I wanted and yet it was going to be with me forever.  It also had to be small, discrete because I was entering a professional field and I didn’t think people would trust a financial advisor who was 24 with tattoos.  Even today, 14 years later, that still holds true.

I decided to get it on my foot.  In flip-flops, you can see it.  In shoes, you cannot.  Once the location was decided, I was able to narrow down the design due to size.

One afternoon, after much thought and some pressure since the appointment was made, I knew, just knew the tattoo I would pick.  As a Christian, I thought an Ichthus (some call it a “Jesus fish”) would be perfect.  Much like the permanence of my chosen career field, there is more permanence to my faith.  On my foot it would remind me to follow where God leads.  It would also remind me that my career in finance must always follow my belief in God and to not allow it to lead me into greed.

This little fish is less than 2 inches long.  It is, per square inch, my most expensive tattoo.  Yet, it is my most visible tattoo.  I see it every day.  I am reminded every day the decision I made when I was 8 to follow Jesus as my savior.  I am reminded every day:

·         My obedience to Christ is before anything else.

·         My feet must always follow where He leads, even if my human self is uncertain.

·         My faith will offend.

·         My faith will be challenged.

·         My faith, at many times, is in opposition to the very industry I couldn’t wait to join.

Today that is all about to change.  A full twenty years after I researched the career with the highest pay with the least schooling, do I finally understand what I want to be when I grow up. 

I want to be someone who makes an impact for Jesus.  I want to be someone who can expand His kingdom.  I want to be someone who follows wherever He leads, not matter the fear, the anxiety or the worry.  I want to be in a job that allows me the freedom to be a Christian.

I am saying good-bye to an industry that has allowed me to develop some skills and provided me with necessary knowledge, but ultimately showed me what I don’t want to be when I grow up. 

With the ichthus on my foot as a reminder, I am taking one step in obedience to Christ.  I am embarking on a new journey that is the complete unknown.  Despite that uncertainty, despite all the potential fears, I’m completely content and completely at peace.  That’s how I know the Prince of Peace is leading.

I am beyond excited for this next step, but also the ones to follow.  For the first time in my life, I feel like I can make a difference.

The impact of a legacy

2015 has been a difficult year at work.  We have had more people (clients, co-workers and family members) pass away in the first month of this year than we did all last year.  It has started me thinking about legacy.  The parent I am today is building a legacy for our daughters and their daughters and sons and their daughters and sons.  A legacy build on Jesus, we are promised, will continue.

“Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; He is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love Him and keep His commandment.”  Deuteronomy 7:9

I always knew both my grandma and my grandpa had been married before.  We had your typical, weird blended family.  My mom is an aunt to a niece who is older than her.  My grandma and my aunt (her daughter) were pregnant at the same time in 1954.  I didn’t know how odd that was until I got older.  My grandma never talked about her first marriage and so it was never something that was questioned.

My grandma was born in 1913.  It was a time of one room schools and before the 19^th amendment when women gained the right to vote (which was 1920).  I cannot imagine what that time was like and it wasn’t something we ever discussed.  She always said she forgot. 

When I was little we had to make a family tree for school.  There is some deep desire I have to find out my ancestry.  I can remember my grandfather teaching me German and telling me stories of his childhood, speaking only German until he started school.  Every time I tried to go back in my grandma’s family, she would tell me that her father was adopted and so they know nothing about his ancestors.

I never questioned either of them.

Until recently.

Maybe my age has given me perspective.  I now realize that my grandma was an alcoholic.  I’m positive we didn’t talk about the past for a number of reasons, but mainly because it included people we did not speak to.  My grandma cut everyone out of her life.  She had a sister.  She was a child of divorce and had a step-mother.  She had step-siblings.  She has nieces and nephews.  Yet, I don’t even know these people’s names.  For years I didn’t even know they even existed. 

As I looked into the past, I start to see all the layers of my grandma. 

Born in 1913.

Married in 1929, at age 15.  Her husband was 22.  My great-grandparents signed the marriage certificate.  We have a 15 year old.  I cannot imagine her marrying a 22 year old and signing the marriage certificate.

Then it made sense.  My grandma was 3 months pregnant at her wedding in 1929.  In July, at age 16, she gives birth to my aunt Betty.  Five days later, Betty died.  Every holiday we would take my grandma (who never learned to drive) to the cemetery.  She would spend very little time at Betty’s grave, almost like she couldn’t stand it.  Yet it was always important to go there, clean off the space and leave flowers.  Now I see this loss very differently.  In 1929, when you absolutely didn’t get pregnant outside of marriage, my grandmother was 15 and pregnant by her 22 year old beau.  Her parents signed off her marriage certificate and at 16 she is married, gives birth and loses a child.  At 16!  What kind of child was my grandma?  How on earth did she meet and hangout with, intimately, a 22 year old boy?  In 1929?  What kind of parents did she have?

Three years later, she gave birth to my aunt Donna, who was raised by my great-grandma. 

At some point my grandma got divorced and met my grandpa at a bar.  They got married, had two kids and I met her when she was 65.  My grandparents were awesome grandparents.  In retrospect, I can see that their marriage wasn’t a marriage, it’s was an arrangement.  I thought all grandparents had separate bedrooms.  I thought all grandparents didn’t really speak to each other.  See, this is my weird family.

If you connect the dots, my grandma was working and at the bar looking for a man, leaving her daughter to be raised by her mother.  I wonder if my grandma spent her life grieving loss – the life she envisioned, her children, her relationships – and that led her to drink.  Did she cut people out of her life because they reminded her of her past?  Or was this some legacy that she was carrying on?

I decided recently to use the power of the internet to see if I could find old adoption records on my great-grandfather.  Who was he and how did his relationship with my grandma impact him?  She cut him out when he remarried.  Was my grandma just throwing a tantrum or was there something else?  My great-grandpa has a very unique name and I was positive a search would lead somewhere.  I found his marriage certificate to my great-grandma, so I had a birthplace and parent’s names, but unsure if those were his adopted parents or his real parents. 

In a matter of seconds, I learned that my grandma wasn’t entirely truthful.  Maybe it was due to the legacy my great-grandpa left or was it another lie she made up, I’m not positive.  He wasn’t adopted, like my grandma made me believe.  He was raised by his father and a step-mother, because his mother died when he was 6.  In a way he was adopted, but only by his step-mom.  He still had his biological dad.  He was an only child and didn’t even attend his father’s funeral.  I doubt his father knew where he lived because the obituary was completely incorrect. 

Why did my great-grandfather stop talking to his dad?  Was the adoption story his or my grandma’s? 

My family is full of secrets that I am now only discovering.  I’ve been reading obituaries and hearing stories of lives well lived and legacies.  Yet, when I look to my own family history, the legacy I have been given is one of grudges and lies. 

I am so grateful for my mom who changed our legacy, by meeting Jesus and raising me on the foundation of Him.  I praise God that both N and I have that same foundation and are promised an inheritance and legacy for generations.  I am reminded that not everyone is as they seem, even those we think we know so well.  We are all shaped by our past. 

As I uncover more of my family’s legacy, I’m convicted to continue to rewrite that legacy.  No more secrets, no more lies, but a foundation built on the cornerstone of Jesus, the only legacy with a promise.

Christmas Program

Last night was Zoe's school Christmas program.  She has been talking for weeks about being a dove in the program and she couldn't wear glitter or heels.  We received a letter that the boys would be wearing red ties and the girls needed a fancy dress.  Zoe was beyond excited to get some more miles out of her favorite blue, twirly dress. 

The program was held at a local church.  Two of Zoe's classmates are members of the church and their dads are pastors there.  She was beyond excited to go to Addy's and Caleb's church for her Christmas concert! 

When we got there, we found her awesome teacher Mrs. Wood and some of her classmates.

What's funny is a little girl in the back totally photobombed me! 

Aren't they so cute all dressed up and ready to perform?  Knowing this was her second to last day with these wonderful people made me a little teary all night.  These are, quite simply, some of the best people I've ever had the privilege of knowing.  These children love each other like family.  Their parents genuinely care about each of our families and we all get along!  Mrs. Wood...there is not enough words to describe how incredible she is.  God has truly blessed her with a gift for teaching.  I am so blessed that she was Zoe's teacher.

The kids sang a song called "The Friendly Beasts."  It's about the animals in the stable being the first to welcome the Son of God to earth that night.  Zoe's part was the dove!



Because I have an "in" with the pastor's wife, I got second row to take these pictures of our girl.  When she spotted me, she waved and gave me this smile. 

Throughout the night I watched as families beamed with pride for their kiddos.  Absent was N.  While leaving these beautiful people is going to be hard, I'm beyond excited to share future events with him.  I know this is where God is leading us. 

What Has 8 Wheels and All Her Bones in Tact?

This weekend we spent time with three of my favorite girls.  For months they've been asking to go rollerskating.  Finally this weekend it seemed to work out that we could strap on the wheels and roll to the music (while praying we didn't fall down and break a hip or something).  I used to be a roller skating maniac.  I LOVED it.  Probably because it was the one sport that I could actually do.  After 24 years out of the game, I was a little concerned about going.  Here's my entourage:

D - she's only 13 people.  I'm not sure, I'm positive she looks about 21 in this picture.

She's a dynamo on skates.  She can squirt sour candy into her mouth, do the chicken dance and skate without missing a beat. 

E - she tends to be tired after about 3 laps.  Until she squirts about 1/3 of a bottle of sour candy spray into her mouth.  Then she's ready for 3 more laps. 

She is the video game queen.  I'm not entirely sure how long she was at the games, but she was clearly in her element.

Zoe - she was ready to strap on the wheels and see if she liked this roller skating business.  Then she found out they had a bar.

For the next 90 minutes she wouldn't come off the rink.  She LOVED it.  By the last 15 minutes, she was racing me.  She won.

N complained about his knees and how we would need someone to sit with all our stuff...blah, blah, blah.  Personally I think he was texting our friends and making bets about how many laps before I fell down. 

It was a great day with our girls, learning the joys of sour candy spray and realizing that after 24 years, roller skating is like riding a bike.

The Surprise that is Orofino, Idaho

Ever since N started his dam job, we have known that we will need to relocate once he finishes his apprenticeship.  As part of our planning, we make a plan to go to every dam he visits during his apprenticeship to see what towns we like and which ones we don't really have a peace about moving to.

For example, when he was working at Lower Monumental Dam near Ritzville, I can tell you, without reservation that I don't have a peace about living there.  You can imagine my feelings about a little town called Orofino, Idaho (population 3,142).  I was not that excited about it and I was adamant that there was no way I was ever going to live there.  EVER!

Then N got his apprenticeship schedule rearranged and he was headed to Dworshak Dam in Orofino this month rather than next winter.  He also is working 60 hours a week rather than 40 and they'll put him up in a hotel over the weekend.  It was like God put everything in place for me to eat crow.

Let me tell you, that crow is mighty tasty!

Orofino is nothing like Ritzville.  It's almost twice as big, much more bustling, quite a bit more friendly and absolutely gorgeous.  It is God's country up in Orofino.  Along the roads aren't signs that say "Deer Crossing" they say "Game Crossing."  I'm not entirely sure what "game" encompasses, but I have a feeling it's animals that are MUCH larger than deer.

When you think of Orofino, think trees, river and a HUGE concrete gate they call Dworshak Dam.  You cross a bridge over the North Fork of the Clearwater River to get to the dam.  If you look to your right as you cross that bridge, this is what you see: 

Honestly, nothing quite prepares you for that much concrete stuffed into a mountain.  Dworshak is 717 feet tall.  That concrete is holding back a 57 mile "lake" that is 630 feet deep.  In other words, a flood.

The dam has three main units.  Basically that means big tubes the water comes through to generate power, regulate the water temperature/levels or to reduce the amount in the "lake" so we don't have a flood.  Two of those units were spilling water when we visited.  I don't know about you, but those little spouts of water look rather small compared to the dam!

N took us on a platform area on the low side of the dam.  I had N and Zoe pose in front of the vertigo inducing concrete slab.  Can you even see Zoe?  I think this is appropriate to scale.  I was kinda woozy looking up that high.

Beyond that gate is what they call "the tunnel."  If I've learned anything these last two years about dam humor it's that the things they think are cool are things that make me crawl out of my skin.  This "tunnel" is a rock cave that goes into the dam and it is how they routed the water while they were building the dam.  I'm not sure how they stopped the water from continuing to go through that little tunnel, but I'm 100% positive it's not just a concrete slab at the end.  N had a flashlight and Zoe had a flashlight.  I did not.  I'm not really into caves anyway, but to put me in one, under 717 feet of concrete that is holding back 630 feet deep water that goes back 57 miles beyond the dam...let's just say I had a real anxiety attack.  Like absolute freak out, couldn't get out of there fast enough anxiety attack.  N's advice?  "Just don't think about it."  Um...

Zoe grabbed my hand, gave me a kiss and told me it was okay.  Sometimes it takes a while to be brave.  Bless her heart.

Instead of that little adventure to our death in a tunnel that all the dam guys just don't think about, we went to the elevator that goes to the top of the dam.  It's an elevator ride that takes about 90 seconds, but your ears pop at least 3 times. 

We stepped out of the building to see this...

That is Dworshak Lake from the top of the dam.  That light part that you see all along the banks is how far down the lake is currently from normal - about 80 feet.  The lake doesn't really have shoreline.  Once your boat is in the lake, you're on the lake.  Since the US Army Corp (USACE) maintains the lake, they built these floating docks that are anchored throughout the lake.  Some of them have picnic tables, some of them have tables and a cutout in the middle for swimming, some of them have bathrooms.  Basically you tie your boat to them, dock and that's their version of a shore. 

I got a little brave considering I'm terrified of heights and went to the other side to take this picture.  Mind you, I have the edge of the dam, plus another railing about 6 feet from the edge, so it's not like I could look down as I took this picture.  Honestly, this made my palms a bit sweaty.  This is the view looking west toward Lewiston.

Then N took the camera, told me to stand in the middle of the dam and to not look.  He took this picture.  That area that looks like a dock that juts out onto the river...that's where I was standing to take the picture of N and Zoe before going into the tunnel of doom.

I can honestly say, that I can see us living in this area.  Maybe closer to Lewiston rather than in Orofino, but I love the area.  Of all the places we've been so far, this is the place that seems most like home.   We'll see what God has in store for us.

Zoe and I are headed back in a couple weeks.  Next on the list - fish hatcheries (there are two, HUGE ones in Orofino and the Steelhead should be running) and Lewiston. 

Birthday Blessings and Apples

Friday was a busy day at our house.  First it was my birthday.  I turned 35 and am so incredibly blessed by the people in my life.  When Zoe woke up, she got her tea cart ready with all the things I would love for breakfast.  She made me breakfast in bed.  I got coffee with toast with peanut butter.  She even sang to me and did a special birthday dance.  She and grandma made me a bag that Zoe colored and it says, "MOM" on it.  Inside was fabric from the Mama Said Sew line of fabric.  She told me they made a special trip to the quilt store just to get that for me.  So precious.

My mom bought me a Block of the Month for Sew Spooky.  I can't wait to start sewing!

After breakfast in bed and all the birthday festivities, Zoe and I had a special date - a class field trip to Greenbluff to the "apple patch" as Zoe and her friends call it.  We had so much fun.  The kids learned about the importance of bees to the apple patch and how to pick an apple.  Interesting fact - you turn the apple upside down.  If it comes off the tree with the stem, it's ready.  If it doesn't come off, it's not ready to be picked.

Zoe got a gala apple.

Then it was off to the maze, where there were about 10 different cut-out places to get your picture taken.

Then we got to pick pumpkins!

They even had a teepee and some information on the Spokane Indian Tribe and then we got to go on a hayride.  It was the absolute best place to go for a field trip.  The farmers were so kind and great with the kids. 

One of Zoe's favorite parts - finding HUGE dandelions to make wishes from.

After the field trip, we took off to Orofino, Idaho to see daddy.  I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday that experiencing life with my favorite people.



It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's a Super Hero!

N is a man who enjoys looking on Facebook, but rarely, if ever, puts anything out there.  He knows that Pinterest exists and that I spend about 20 minutes before bed each night checking it out.  That's his extent of interaction with Pinterest.

Or so I thought.

Last week he said to me, "I saw this really cool way to make jet packs out of 2-liter soda bottles.  We need to make this happen." 

Because I had pinned this little kid-friendly craft to my Pinterest page I knew exactly what he was talking about.  He downed some Mt. Dew for the craft, shopped for spray paint and tissue paper and let Zoe pick out the yarn for straps.

Honestly, I've never seen him this excited to make a crafty thing.  He loves doing the Pinewood Derby cars for AWANA, but this is something totally outside his previous foray into crafty things.  I'm not gonna lie, my heart just about wept from tears of joy.  With all the years of going to super hero movies, learning to play Halo on XBox, trying to understand World of Warcraft, etc. and now he's initiating crafting.  It's almost like the little parts of life came together to make things right in the world!

Not to mention that a certain 5-year old was beyond excited to have a jet pack.  Even if she didn't understand how soda bottles were going to transform. 

Zoe and I went swimming with some friends and when we came back there was a lovely patch of metallic gray on the lawn.  Clear evidence that a certain daddy was totally excited to have a jet pack and save the world.

When Zoe realized it was time to become a super hero, they couldn't make those jet packs fast enough.  They did pose to show me how tough they are:

Zoe loves her so much that the other day she was talking about going somewhere and this was her comments:

Could I take a plane?  No!  Could I take a bicycle?  No!  I'll have to use my jet pack.

She didn't seem the least bit upset that, as her third option, is was the only mode of transportation up for the job.

Dog Days of Summer

Summer for us involves tons of water.  None of us really like being hot, so we find ways to cool down.  There are a number of options:  sprinkler, kiddie pool, YMCA, splash pad, Columbia River, kind people who let us use their pool...

We aren't picky.  We've utilized each and every one of these this year.  Sometimes when it's really hot and we're in Oregon, I'm 3/4 tempted to just go up to random houses and see if they have a pool we can take a dip in.  100+ degree temps will do that to a person.

Since Zoe has learned to put her face in the water, her fear has subsided.  She splashes, jumps, dips all the way under and smiles the entire time.  We are so glad she's a fish like both N and I are. 

Part of my evenings consist of getting home, changing clothes, packing a picnic, lathering the sunscreen and heading to a park with my favorite girl. 

I'm so incredibly blessed. 

We Have Apparently Entered the Negotiation Stages of Arranged Marriage

On Monday Zoe went to church with grandma for a quick VBS meeting.  My mom and I are the directors of VBS, so we'll be living at church the next couple weeks and "quick" is a relative term!

Anyway, Zoe was at church and Ben's mom works at our church.  Ben just happened to be dropped off that day and he was very worried that Zoe was mad at him.  Zoe and I had agreed that the best thing to do was to treat Ben like we always do and just be a friend.  I'm so proud of my girl.  She went right up to Ben, started talking about who knows what and they ended up playing together for 4 hours.  No mention of the dreaded engagement talk, just two friends playing and laughing and having a great time.  At then end, he even thanked my mom for "her patience" because he knew she had been wanting to leave for the last 2 hours.  Score a point for Ben and his thoughtful heart.

Yesterday, we were at church again and Ben's mom was there, but no Ben.  As Zoe and I left, we said hello to her and went on our way.

Fast forward to last night, Grandma Lily ran into Ben's mom at dinner.  I guess when she got home, she told Ben she saw Zoe and his first question was, "did she ask about me?"  I have to be honest, that little question just makes me smile. 

I guess the real reason that he said "NO!" was because Zoe mentioned something about him living with us.  That, unfortunately was a HUGE deal breaker to a 5 year old.  Quite honestly, I'm glad he can keep his wits about him when asked major-life changing questions by a cute girl.  Score another point for Ben.

He told his mom that he does want to marry Zoe, but she'd have to move in with his family.  He's thinking he'll ask her on Sunday to marry him. 

Now we have entered into negotiations for a fake marriage.  Do we need to have a couple fake goats and some rubber chickens to sweeten this deal?  I feel a little unprepared.

A "NO!" and the Day I Turned Into My Mother

There's one more type of flowers that I believe are in order at our house:  the "I'm Sorry Boys are Dumb" flowers. For years Zoe has dreamed of her wedding. She's going to marry a boy named Ben who goes to our church. She thinks about this at least once a week. Mainly when she sees a wedding dress or fancy shoes. Sometimes she freaks out about it.

This past week she's been 100% gung-ho about finally asking Ben to marry her. She said to me, "mom, you need to ask Ben if he'll marry me when we're adults and I'm okay if he says no."

Here's the thing about being a parent, you walk a very fine line of crushing their little spirit or setting their expectations too high. Because I don't have a crystal ball, I didn't try to talk some reality into her, I just kinda let it go as, "I'll see what I can do." I figured either she'd forget about it by Sunday or I'd just tell her I already asked his mom before I got her from Children's Church.

Unfortunately I couldn't forsee into Sunday at church where we'd run into Ben and his mom and Zoe would know I hadn't asked yet because church just got out. Here's the order of events:

Zoe remembered the important question.

She asked Ben if he'd marry her, full of hope and excitement.

Ben's eyes became the size of saucers.

He forcefully said, "NO!"

Zoe grabbed onto me, said he said "NO" and began to cry.

And cry.

And cry.

And attract a crowd.

And cry some more.

Then it became the ugly cry with gasping for breath and loud sobs.

Then I told her a story of my preschool life with Jeff. I basically had the same story.  I'm pretty sure I didn't cry that hard, I just kinda shrugged it off.  Although we're friends today and I can laugh at my 5 year old self. Then I told her that N was the perfect man God had for me. Maybe God has someone even more awesome then Ben and I pray He does because Ben should see how awesome she is. If he doesn't, he's not worth her tears!

Then I turned into my mother.

The end.

Celebrating our Independence by Rebelling

On Tuesday afternoon I got a call on my cell phone from a number I didn't recognize.  I usually don't answer those, but for some reason I did.  It was N.  At the dam he's working at there is no cell reception.  He called to inform me that there was a change of plans to his work schedule today.  He would be home late.  In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Zoe and I decided to go to him.  That meant a very fun trip to Ritzville, WA - population 4 fast food joints, three gas stations and one Mexican restaurant we will never patron again.  Zoe had never been to Ritzville for a night, so she was beyond excited. 

Tuesday night we ate from a safe restaurant and then played in the pool.  Because N's hotel room only has a king-sized bed, we got to share.  N got the 1/3 closest to the air conditioner, Zoe got the middle 1/3 and I got the 1/3 closest to the bathroom.  This getting older thing really disrupts my sleep.

For the entire night Zoe slept on my 1/3 of the bed, her lovey got her 1/3 of the bed and N got a glorious night of sleep!

For our 4th of July, we took a trip to N's temporary dam that he loves more than life itself.

Zoe and daddy practiced skipping rocks, throwing driftwood and posing by signs because I told them we had to document this life moment.  Then we watched several people launch their boats into the water as we got insanely jealous!

It was time to head back and Zoe learned what happens when you're on a rural road, nothing between where you came from and where you're going and she says, "I have to go potty." 

We went back to Ritzville, played more in the pool (where Zoe learned to hold her breath and go under water), jumped on the hotel bed and bought some sparklers.  In our county you can't have any fireworks.  Any and all things that explode, no matter how pretty or immobile they are, they are illegal.  Some of my best memories of the 4th are spent sitting in a lawn chair with the hose watching all the fountain fireworks on our street.  I was always a little worst-case-scenario when it came to fireworks.  In my defense, no house or shrub or person ever caught fire on my watch!  It saddens me that Zoe will have a different memory of the holiday. 

To remedy that, we bought some sparklers in a county that allows fireworks and brought them home to celebrate the independence of the USA.  Appropriate, no?

 

Zoe took to them like she did to all the firsts of her day.  There was lots of smiles, giggles and a sweet rendition of "You're a Grand Old Flag" sung by Zoe herself.