39. AIR CONDITIONING

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

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

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

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.

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

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!"

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

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

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

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.

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  :)

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.