Pages

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

toddler, pug parade

cool air from fan on my face
a surprisingly delicious new cereal
a wonderfully noisy, joyous toddler, mom, pug parade
finishing a mini crafty task

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Mostly hanging out.




100. Adventuring out in the jungle of our front yard.


101.  Gorillas at play with silverware made from sticks.

102. Names my adventurers have chosen for themselves: Jack and Hannah.

103. Boy so proud at himself for sharpening a pencil at both ends, and my own remembered pleasure of teaching Lord of the Flies.  Wild and complicated, boys we humor ourselves that we are shaping.

104. Roasted chicken sandwich on ciabatta bread.  Cranberry sauce improves anything.
105. Dinner mostly from the grill means two of three kids actually eat something two days in a row.

106. Lunch at the bar in the basement.

107. Legos, rediscovered.

108. Indiana Jones scene recreated in miniature.

109. Drawing and reading club in the hallway.

110. Pile of boxer shorts neatly folded.

111. Empty laundry basket for a moment.

112.  Netflix working again for the moment.

113. Remembering to put socks on after shower and moisturizing feet.

114. Thinking I might walk on the treadmill.  A start.

115. Happy affirmation email.

116. Poems rescued from old laptop.

117. Wonder of wonders: entire contents of computer fits on one tiny thumbdrive.

118.  Purple People Bridge.  Finally talked family into walking across it with me.  Don't even care that we had to wait out rainstorm on a sad little bench underneath on the other side.  In fact, think it may help them remember it more.

119.  One new book for each kid at the bookstore.

120. Sunshine after rain.

121.  Quiet time on the deck with my best friend husband.

122. Spinning with my boy in my arms, blond hair afluff in the breeze. "Again!"

123.  No VBS lice, yet.


Thursday, July 12, 2012

Crazy Crazy Fun

50. sparkly morning water
51. five kids in one bunk
53. pancake syrup everywhere
54. sand in every butt crack
55. wakeboard, tube, skis, wakeboard, tube, skis
56. big fat orange moon
57. word games
58. handprints in every size on the front door
59. chipmunk steals cereal offering from porch steps
60. spiderman beach towel in demand
61. wrassling, tackling, timeout, wrangling, wrestling
62. hammock flips upside down
63. happy baby happy boy
64. girl cousins' heads together
65. grease fire on the grill
66. wet towels on doors, hooks, beach chairs, clothes line, and piled high in laundry baskets
67. round only rock collection
68. feather collection
69. wildflower collection
70. bedtime stories this time longer

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

1-"new" clothes for Isaiah. Free hand-me-downs from his cousins
2-Isaiah laughing at Samuel. My two dear baby boys.
3-the reminder: God has given us everything we need to live godly lives
4-sharing a deep, painful, past struggle with a friend. Its products helping her. Tasting, little by little, redemption.
5-watermelon
6-sun and appealing temps
7-red wagon that spices up walks
8-the song "Be Thou My Vision"
9-time with my brother today!
10-a dear, sweet sister-in-law

Monday, July 9, 2012

Nearly to Virginia

Blessings so deep and wide it is difficult (overwhelming, redundant, indulgent, what?) to name and count them.
Nevertheless, I try, so as not to fall out of practice for the stale empty weeks that surely await.

62. Peaches, so full of sun and juice you must eat them quick in your hand, no peeling.
63. All the flavors if sunscreen lined up on the dresser, waiting to be layered thick and white on another a new morning, another new afternoon.
64. Sand in the sheets
65. One thousand (or two?) different ways to throw one's seven year old self into a pool.
66.  Baby blond heads getting whiter in the sun.
67. Horse families sharing breakfast time in our front yard
68. A secret clubhouse in the dunes.
69. N. as guard kitten, licking her paws.
70. Unexpected company arrives at our gate, joins us for fourth of July celebrating.
71. Boogie boarding.
72. N. has her aunt French braid her hair.
73. Wherever we go, L., our spotter of trash.  Bags, cans, baskets. Keeping it all watched and in it's place. "Ras, Ras, Ras."
74. L., plays with the hose when we will let him. Little piss boy statue, filling the pool with enthusiasm.
75. Seashells: cat's eyes, sun-sets, coquinas, butterfly wings, scallop, pieces of whelk.
76. Blue shelled crab in a net.
77. Hermit crabs caught skin diving with bright plastic masks in the surf.
78. Sunrise
79. Sunset
80. Full moon.
81. Someone else makes dinner all but two nights of the week.
82. J. there to help with lunch assembly line.
83. J. there to help with shower assembly line.
84. Fresh sun and shower scrubbed kids, faces pink, hair combed for dinner.
85. O. Chasing a bunny through dunes and sea oats, sure he will catch him.
86.  Sparklers and glow sticks and flashlights on the deck to make up for no fireworks.
87. Kites: mermaid, pony, spiderman and pterodactyl try bob and chase each other in the sky.
88. Drinks by the pool.  Drinks in the pool. Drinks on the beach.  Drinks on the deck.
89. Bill, the guy who delivers ice to coolers we leave out front.  $3.00 per bag.
90.  No road, only sand.
91.  Shoes parked. Only for running across hot sand.
92. Low tide and you can wade for days.
93. Flies biting my ankles, remind me this is not all fever dream.
94. Dolphins just beyond the wave break.
95. Bouncing in salt water with my baby in my arms, giggles float up and over each new wave.
96. Three booster seats lined up for each meal.
97.  Late night conversation.
98.  Spotty 3G.
99. Sunrise drive down the beach; horses on the dunes to wish us bon voyage.

Early in July


Bethany Spring, Merton Institute for Contemplative Living, New Haven, KY

My baby sleeps with me; we lie beside one another on a fouton pulled out. There are no sounds but these: the breath in my nose, a faint call of a bird in the yard, the quiet hum of an air-conditioner cooling hard the house, and this pen rolling itself fast on the page, listening.

40. little one tugs my skirt
41. handmade quilt
42. quiet coffee on a bench
43. conversation with a fellow pilgrim
44. porch swings in Kentucky breeze
45. green all around
46. crunchy ice
47. salsilito turkey
48. fast air through windows
49. mayonnaise

And more:

50. home for the fourth of July
51. thrill of a toddler running downhill
52. messy clothes, painting the world with chalk
53. splashing water
54. simple joy from but a watering can
55. shared humor with old friends
56. bleu cheese inside a burger
57. black lines on dogs from the grill
58.tang of tonic water ( and some vodka too)
59. two girls in wonder before a dollhouse open for play
60. small things in small hands
61. sweet corn off the cob
62. giraffe: wonderful, God glory
63. penguin swims, little one points in awe
64. zoo to ourselves, little Eden
65. sweaty hot, feels clean, feels alive
66. water down the throat
67. little hand feeds little goat
68. ruffled cap sleeve around a tiny arm
69. crinkled nose, toothy elfish grin, my delight each time

God must really love me.

 


Saturday, July 7, 2012

1. My cuddly pug, who has weathered many storms and transformations with me. Always faithful. Showing me Jesus.
2. Little Isaiah, making me laugh as he hangs upside down from his Poppa and calls me "da da" when I say "mama"
3. Voskamp, taking no superficial approach to the "hard Eucharisteos" and delving into the pain and hard questions. Showing me the possibility of believing in Jesus's love beyond my own depths and doubts. Voskamp showing me that platitudes and cliches are not the best Christianity offers in hard times.
4. My husband, who joins in my banter, allowing my sense of humor to flourish in our home 

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

1) Thankful I FINALLY read the second chapter of Voskamp
2) loved when she said to her inner critic (something like): it is better to add gratitude to the wound of the world instead of grumbling and ingratitude. Love that image.
3) loved when she addressed how the gratitude lists will translate into facing hardships. I had been wondering how about the lists could make any kind of dent in those times.
4) Thankful a couple times yesterday for air conditioning!!!
5) Thankful for a clean carpet with toys put aside
6) For the calmness, peace, safety, and ease I feel sitting in our main room with my family
7) My little boy's eyes peering over his bottle at me while I am typing
8) Funny quotes I can text to my younger brother who will think I am funny
9) Doing some Bible reading early rather than letting computer suck time in a toxic way
10) The lyrics of Sara Goves floating through the room and ringing true

Friday, June 29, 2012

Summer Potpourri

55.  Man-Boy in uniform off to his first day of work.
56.  Holding hands with Husband.
57.  Cartwheels in the kitchen.
58.  Just-in-time thunderstorm with lots of rain.
59.  Reduction of pain.
60.  Telephones making the miles nil.
61.  My mom.  I miss her.
62.  Fireworks every night on schedule.
63.  Friday date night with a side trip to Lowes.

Old Friend (and a glass of crisp white wine)

42. We hold hands like second graders on the playground 43. And tell one or two dark secrets we have already shared 44. But don't mind the repeating 45. And the discussion turns to the price of a really good bra 46. and our husbands' socks habits 47. And politics 48. And good reads and 49. Inevitably to Jesus.

Blessings, continued...


Less than a year apart, still my girls curl together on the couch like twins in a shared womb. They breathe in and out what seems the same breath; small chests gently rising then lowering, and both sets of lips pursed open, the sign of deep slumber.

            26. girls curled on a couch
            27. breath, the same breath of another
            28. small chests rising, lowering, in sync
            29. small lips pursed open as waiting for a kiss
            30. rest, slumber, the sleep of a babe
And more:
31. sweet retrieval! Wax from the ear
32. spaghetti strap loose, cascades down small shoulder of baby in sundress
33. chopsticks
34. grammar
35. rain, tomorrow, promised to come
36. new faucet in the kitchen-now the Brita fits beneath
37. a thank you note that makes me chuckle
38. what if counting, counting is the way to remember?

deeelights.

15. husband's delight in pleasing his wife with all the right picks from the grocery on his own
16. shortbread cookies
17. summer peach ice cream on my tongue-two helpings
18. morning naps
19. babe at the breast
20. playful twist of my nine-month-old's tongue
21. Opa teaches my sweet toddler Dutch
22. little poop droppings behind the couch
23. Charlie's pre-laundry soap spray for the pee on the floor
24. this mama stays calm and laughs it all away
25. new car smell

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Grandbabies

31. Zachie still sneaks in to cuddle and wait for a decent hour to wake up the house 32. Henry crawls the stairs --fast 33. Annelise guesses the end of my night time story 34. Isaiah shares a sweet secret 35. Jude succumbs to sleep while I pet him 36. Lydia wakes me with chigger scratching 37. Sam and Simon are so happy to be naughty together -- again 38. Mir's hug is full of reunion emotion 39. Gabi tells a complicated story that makes her laugh and laugh 40. Ruthie's curls are wild after a bath 41. Anna likes how she looks in her first bra and

Monday, June 25, 2012

The Swim Lesson Weeks

40. Clean carpets.  (I'm still not getting that black light out again.)
41. Most of the clutter away for the moment.
42. Skin smelling of chlorine well into the evening.
43. Two blonde braids.
44.  Boy on my lap eating yogurt without a spoon.
45.  Dive lessons.  My strong, getting longer boy bending back back back and entering the water only slightly askew.  First back dive.
46. Orange goggle eyes porpoising down for pink and purple toys on the bottom of the pool.
47.  Twenty-one months I waited for this:  "Mom!"  Clearly. Meant for me.
48. Five days of lunches at the pool, pulled like the loaves and fishes from an empty kitchen.
49. Kids running around the steaming blacktop basketball court to dry off during adult swim.
50. Toddler following the big kids carrying a basketball.
51. Dryer full of only beach towels.  Easy, easy to fold.
52. Caramelized brussels sprouts soaked in butter, seared scallop, long rectangle of parmesan.
53. Pints with my husband, both of us crying together as we receive news of a dear friend's loss.
54. O. helps me decorate the basement for his dad's birthday.  So proud.
55. Ribs slow roasted and finished on the grill. Chicken legs, asparagus, roasted potatoes with herbs from my front steps.  Dinner on the deck.
56. Sidewalk paint recipe: cornstarch, water and food color.  Vibrant muffin tin cups in the sun.  Loud painted rocks drying in the sun.
57.  Playing school in the side yard.  Addition drills on the IPad, reading lesson on a beach towel.
58.  O. vacuuming.  Again.
59.  Sister in law calls for diaper rash advice.
60.  Post dinner grocery store leisure.
61.  N. at lunch:  "We are next to each other again!  I love you."


Road Tripping

21.  Child making friends at the pool.
22.  Christmas ornaments in June.
23.  Growing confidence underwater.
24.  Flips forward and backward.
25.  Rainbow colored birds on shoulders.
26.  Teenager dancing....with a bird.
27.  Cool breezes making bearable time by the pool.
28.  "Mom, do I look like George Washington?"
29.  Old man in the pool with a hat on.
30.  Shade of a large umbrella.
31.  "Mom......wait, I messed up..."
32.  Baby dives off of the lowest step because it says "no diving".
33.  A teenager's passion.
34.  Colorful rocks.
35.  Saltwater taffy.
36.  Dappled sunlight peeking through the canopy of green.
37.  Wind blowing through a mountain valley.
38.  Moss covered fallen trees.
39.  Large patches of baby pine beneath the canopy of their momma.
40.  Gnarled roots.
41.  Ferns carpeting a forest floor.
42.  Mountain streams.
43.  Bucks grazing along a road.
44.  Hillsides covered with rhododendrons blooming along a river deep in the woods .
45.  Listening to worship music at the behest of a child.
46.  IBUPROFEN.
47.  Shades and shapes of green.
48.  Carved mountain sides.
49.  Red dirt.
50.  Freedom.......................................................Ohio
Indiana
Kentucky
Tennessee
Michigan
Illinois
Georgia
Florida
North Carolina
South Carolina
Virginia
Maryland
Massachusetts
New York
Wisconsin, 
Missouri
Alabama
Mississippi
Nebraska
New Mexico
California
Louisiana
Pennsylvania
West Virginia
Texas
51.  Rest Stops.
52.  Counting to pass the time.
53.  Husband behind the wheel.
54.  Home.
11. wind so wild it whistles through my hoop earrings
12. squeals of laughter from two babies in a clawfoot tub
13. supple belly that birthed those two--and spanx to hold it in
14. air-dried curls, my summer hair, sign I'm beginning to not care

Monday, June 18, 2012

Cottage Week

25.  Scout talking to me through the jangle of my own necklace.  Still feeling her presence, staying with the loss, not yet obliged to fill in her empty spaces.
26.  J. reminding me of Scout stories I had forgotten.  Happy to be building the story of her life in memories both happy and sad.
27. Daughter's beaming account of her daddy buying her flowers.
28.  My children hugging their great grandmother in person: eagerly, without reservation.
29.   Holding my grandma's hand in my own, having conversations about my hair, my milk, her clothes.  Sharing a meal, her life right now; grateful she is back and I can still sit next to her.
30.  An interaction between N. and Grandma, discussing the finer points of coloring.
31.  The chance to ride in the backseat while my father drives.
32. Text banter with my husband.
33.  After bedtime giggling and whispering between bunk beds.
34.  Layers and layers of mismatched blankets and sheets.
35.    Wine in plastic cups by the campfire.
36.  Each of my children with a broom or a bucket in hand, enthusiastic to make a mess disappear.
37.  Vending machine thrills.  Holding sour cream and onion chips aloft, O. proclaims:  "It's like the claw machine, only you always win!"
38.  O. eating, eating, eating.
39.  Finger flashlights aglow, chasing young energy through all the rooms of our little cottage in the woods.

Summer Finally Begins

12.  The Blue Gibbon with dear colleagues.  The two people I probably spend more time with than anyone outside of my family.  Interesting, funny, believers.
13.  Guiltlessly leaving work at work for my six week hiatus.
14.  Children screaming and singing in utter abandon for their God.
15.  Adults making vacation bible school an AMAZING experience.
16.  Kids at camp.

17.  A boy who plays hard with injuries to show it.
18.  Pain resulting from hours in the garden.
19.  A little girl excited for the family vacation with bags packed three days before leaving.
20.  Summer rain just as the sprinklers are turned on.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Birthday gifts

25. little Glendale grateful prayer walk
26. Blueberry Bakery cranberry scone
27. package from Abingdon
28. Jarabacoa singers
29. Lisey's toothless wishes
30. Snow White and Huntsman better than expected

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

9. a boy's instant sorrow at the recognition his barbarism, his sister laid flat on the cement
10. a smart, vibrant woman whose skin doesn't look like mine at home in my home on my couch
11. first bite of a watermelon heart
12. Kroger gift cards
13. a dad who strokes his son's arm while at rest
14. poop in the potty, for crying out loud
15. dads who toss their boys in the air
16. empowerment that comes with the fledgling comprehension of the word "no!"

Tuesday, June 12, 2012



Annie Said, I had yet to write. So this is my post. A little something I've been working on. 


Holy Ruckus

I live in the days of doing and redoing.
I begin on my hands and knees, spraying the cool smell of cedar and sage on tile, and wiping up thick, dried Greek yogurt with a paper towel. I play giant, kill ants, crush them between my forefinger and thumb, sweep them away. I wipe down the faucet, the inside of the sink for water spots. I make everything dry. I fold a colored towel just so, place it on the rim where the sink meets the counter. I turn off the overhead light, sweep the crumbs and food out from underneath the cabinets, the highchair. I shake out the small southwestern style wool rug on the back deck, then sweep it over with a broom. I light a candle, light balsam fir incense. The kitchen is clean. For a minute or two, this space clean, might be a holy place, calm, quiet, ready to receive the children of the morning.
This doing, this making things straight, this order, this wiping away spots, this is what must be done.

            1. Children of the morning
2. Clean kitchen as refuge, as delight
3. writing again

I wear a pendant around my neck, smooth silver soft on my thumb; engraved upon it is a bush burning, a holy reminder delicately scored by a monk’s steady hand at a place named Christ in The Desert, a monastic refuge sequestered in the hills of New Mexico’s rugged high desert, sacred thing from a sacred place, chiseled by another Maker, one with a vaster stroke. Sacred place, sparse place, dry to the bone, high on a hill, maybe much like place where a bush once burned, a place where reluctant hearts might dwell, might open, might say yes.
To this quiet place there is only one road, long and unpaved, impossible to meander with speed. Rocks and uneven rifts line this fourteen-mile driveway. Few signs mark its existence, just one at the first turn off the two-lane highway, and then no markers for miles. No lighted path, no arrows to reassure. Just road. Road that doesn’t look like road, but arroyo, sculpted by flash floods from summer monsoons.  Road that commands windows down, neck craned out following only the path of sparseness—where the desert sage and brush lacks, there appears a winding lane; what has been removed, the only indicator of direction. This road demands a slow feeling-in.
So I begin. Feeling in. Reluctant, like Moses, whispering, but suppose they will not believe me or listen to my voice, a voice that shook and said, Please send by the hand of whomever else you may send.  These, today and most days are the words of my heart to a call to help the Kingdom come beautiful through words strung together, all I know I can do that might matter. Words are the only thing that come easy—even though I wrestle them back and forth on the page, like God and Jacob, it is a holy ruckus, and I invite God in, to help me to stay in the struggle,  just in case—fingers on keys, scribbles on pads yellow, might be my listening. Just in case these words might prayer—holy conversation.
4. Feeling our way in
5. hope that writing might matter
6. words strung together
7. the phrase "kingdom come beautiful"
8. fingers on keys
9. pads yellow
10. a holy ruckus in my heart

In this story, like in the telling of many stories, the call to beginning looms, keep us away. Beginnings intimidate, hover and are heavy. Who wants to begin, blind battling slow-starts, and figuring-outs. Who goes barefoot into murky water?

Ten now in. I have begun.

                                                                       

~argument-free dinner w/"cult-free" sister ~ 11/12 trainings done w/kids undaunted ~friends who allow my random "please pray" texts ~a lost then found then cut up green pacifier and a son none the wiser ~PBS and more PBS

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Yes, summer for real.

16.  Cucumberish lemonade in a martini glass.  Garlic nan with basil.  Raita.  Lamb and rice.  When will something make me feel more blessed than reading a new menu?
17.  Glass of wine on an outdoor patio that is far outside monitor range with my dear husband.
18.  Camp out in our own side yard.  Burned hot dogs and marshmallows.  Movies in the tent.  O. making peace signs and dancing around the firepit because this was all his awesome idea.
19.  N. learns to draw a princess castle.
20.  Left behind lifejacket safe behind the desk at the pool.
21.  Pool water dissolves dress rehearsal bun hair gel without all the tears.

22.  Playground time: cure for the grumps.
23.  Sleeping baby on my shoulder out of the car seat.  Extra few moments in the rocking chair to measure his relaxed weight before easing him under his blue blanket for a nap.

24.  Tiny dancer on stage.  Shwoop arms, leg lifts, tiptoe turns, and I can't stop the tears.


Closing the cottage

12. Clean green checked sheets and the next little friends to sleep in them. 13. Chipmunk reminds me that he likes to scoot through the kitchen sometimes. 14. Bunkbeds bunkbeds monkey shines. 15. Left over porch chair spray paint does piss poor job fixing up the weird orange skirt in the thrift store oil painting. 16. Dappled sunlight on the hammock 17. Purple headed crow pecks in the piney sand 18. Sorry sorry bathroom floor defies my Clorox wipe. 19. Indian paintbrush, wild daisy, edelweiss, trout lilly, Solomon's seal, trillium, may apple 20. Upside down kayak

Saturday, June 9, 2012

3. brave boy in the swimming pool, playing shark and making friends 4. shower-fresh status after a four (or five) day hiatus 5. brats boiled in WI beer, then grilled 6. a small blue pill 7. tucking in a boy who wants to sing the Veggie Tales theme song "by myself" 8. laser hair removal

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Last day Arcadia Camp

4. Turkey, avocado, bacon, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, carrot, hot mustard on homemade bread sandwich -- threefriends picnic high on a hill over looking Betsy Bay. 5. Loreli just ahead peddling her pink vintage Schwinn. 6. Gray-headed golf-vested Lutherans stand around in geraniums and swizzle "Lutheran Lemonade". 7. Bright purple-blue wild iris strain through a highway marsh. 8. Little fish leap like miniature dolphins to feast on evening mosquitoes 9. Michael, the autistic pianist, grins over the upright and bangs out verse 4 page 347. 10. Tom plays the Bagpipes against the sunset: amazing grace how sweet the sound. I once was lost but now I'm found. 11. Dorothy is 77 and she accelerates around the curves; her long pink nails grip the wheel and she makes quick quick adjustments that lurch lurch the car. I am happy to survive the outing to the Cherry Hut over in Buelah. 12. The same Orion lights up the sky over Lake Michigan and Jarabacoa.
12 days left...

...free pool at fancy hotel
...a flock/herd/gaggle of dragonflies hovering over the cistern in my side yard at dusk
...watching my kids' faces watching the dragonflies in wonder

Work

10.  Colleagues who make the day interesting.
11.  A job.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

13 days left...

...pine tree shadows lining my driveway in the dark
...Orion in the Dominican sky
...full moon almost big enough to touch
...bilingual Gringos playing hide-and-seek with vecinos
...Bebo eating breakfast on my couch
...this page still translating every 30 seconds  :)

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Not Yet Hot Summer Day

8. Fennel and sea salt crusted fresh bread from the farmer's market
9. Park, library, and farmer's market all in one afternoon.
10. O.'s discovery of the non-fiction section of the children's area, full of animal titles.  "Mom! All the books I really love!"
11. Summer reading club.
12. Basketball coach taking a knee to greet and talk to my boy on his level.
13. Dirt smeared, boogery baby boy peering into my face to tell the same joke over and over.  "Wa?" (holds up hose for water table) "No, too cold today."  "Wa?"  "No, too cold today."  Giggle, giggle, giggle.
14.  Lunch on the deck with husband and our girl.
15.  Relenting to haul the blender out so N. and I can share a peach smoothie.

The mingling scents of old poo and Old Spice, as a full-diapered boy who has recently applied his daddy's deodorant (to his face) peers over the side of the bed 18 minutes too early
Crisp morning at Coffee Emporium: my back to the giant Oak Leaf Hydrangea, my eyes toward the tree tops...
4.  Dry eyes when remembering pain.
5.  A teenage daughter excitedly sharing her momentary heart's desires.
6.  A missing-toothed grin.
7.  A surprise afternoon tryst.
8.  A man-child running downstairs when "dinner!" is called.
9.  Cleansing tears.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Four: up late and not disquieted
Three: sunset over a Lake Michigan beach with Lutherans standing at attention; a tape recording of taps toots bravely in the background while two sniggering college kids try to respectfully fold the flag.
Because I live where I live (for 15 more days)...
  1. It took an entire minute just to log on to the internet service.
  2. Another entire family's stuff has been stuffed into my house; they had to be out of their house June 1, but we don't leave this house till June 19.
  3. As I write this, the internet has to keep translating my page from Spanish to English (about once every 30 seconds), and still, some of it's in Spanish.
  4. I've realized that my life just won't be as interesting when I move back.
Just thought I'd share...

Sunday, June 3, 2012

My babies and big girl have slept past 8:00 for the past 4 days.

I've squeezed out just enough mom to cover my now THREE children.
Thankful that a library waiting list cannot keep me from posting (or being thankful).  Glad for ONE baby's beating heart that will sustain the rest of my 1st trimester.  And really privileged to have been in that life-changing church basement where I met all of you.


Saturday, June 2, 2012

Who's Glory?

1.  Birds singing at dawn.
2.  Tiger Lilies standing tall along the edge of the road.
3.  Hydrangeas in full bloom.


Intellectually, I know it's best to let the Creator of the universe remain in charge. In our pride, we expect to control much of our environment.  Sometimes it seems we truly are in control.  But we are deluding ourselves. "And the men marveled, saying, 'What kind of a man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?'" Matthew 8:27.

You see.  For the past three years I have been trying to figure out how best to prune these hydrangeas.  All I have managed to do is impede God's creation in what it is ordained to do.  This year, I left well enough alone.  His glory shines through.



"For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made so that they are without excuse." Romans 1:18.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Long Rainy Day

2.  Two hours in the house alone, aside from a sleeping baby.  Unexpected blessing.
3.  Pint of blood orange sorbet, a handful of triscuits, and a taped episode of The Good Wife.
4. My not quite baby anymore still wants a spot on my hip to see the world.
5.  Rainy day dance party.  Kids in their idea of hip hop costumes.  Set fire, to the rain...
6.  Pipe cleaner magic wand construction occupies 20 minutes.
7.  Sharing Honey I Shrunk the Kids with my seven year old, who says "This is awesome.  We should watch this all the time!"

Two: my loon

The only loon who resides on our cottage lake: my friend for 10 years.

Thursday, May 31, 2012

One: Shampoo

The other day, I listened to an episode of one of my favorite podcasts, The Moth, which is a collection of people telling stories live and on stage, with no notes.  Great stuff.  Sometimes funny, sometimes heart wrenching, always human.  The one I was listening to this week, by a woman named Lizz Winstead, started off as a humorous travelogue.  It wasn't until the end of her story, The 25 Cent Spa, that I was stopped still and humbled, as was she by her experience. She visited Morocco with two friends, and they found themselves trying to do something both genuine to the location but also comfortable to their Western psyches.  Thus, a 25 cent spa. You should really listen to it if you get a chance, but if you don't, what she came to at the end that while she and her friends were there to pay to have someone else scrub them down, the other women, the local women, were there to share intimate, caring time with each other.  They were bathing each other, washing each other's hair, sharing.  Lizz's closing line was that after this experience, she promised herself that she would only have female friends who would be willing to wash her hair.
Yes.  I'm on board for that.  Really, why would I share any more of my life with those that don't care about me enough to connect on that level?  Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of the women who I'm inviting to write with me on this blog, any one of whom I'd be glad to lather, rinse, and repeat.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Number 1

4. Turkey, avocado, bacon, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, carrot, hot mustard on homemade bread sandwich and two friends picnic high on a hill over looking Betsy Bay. 5. Loreli just ahead peddling her pink vintage Schwinn. 6. Gray-headed golf-vested Lutherans stand around in geraniums and swizzle "Lutheran Lemonade". 7. Bright purple-blue wild iris strain through a highway marsh. 8. Little fish leap like miniature dolphins to feast on evening mosquitoes 9. Michael, the autistic pianist, grins over the upright and bangs out verse 4 page 347. 10. Tom plays the Bagpipes against the sunset: amazing grace how sweet the sound. I once was lost but now I'm found. 11. Dorothy is 77 and she accelerates around the curves; her long pink nails grip the wheel and she makes quick quick adjustments that lurch lurch the car. I am happy to survive the outing to the Cherry Hut over in Buelah. 12. The same Orion lights up the sky over Lake Michigan and Jarabacoa.