Seth is 12. His stuffed bear, Mr. B, is growing old along with him and lives on his bed. Because of this, I tend to bring home decor for his bedroom, from Goodwill mostly, suitable for bear lovers.
He was at school on Friday while Grace and I spent some time at Goodwill together looking for stuff but we weren’t sure what-yet. Right away, in a magical moment, I made eye contact with a dear brown bear whose charm made me stop in my (mama bear) tracks, and……. add him to the cart.
When Seth was dropped off by the school bus later, I was home and ready to say “Seth, there’s a surprise for you, upstairs in your bedroom.” (By the way, this new bear is a ceramic cookie jar.)
As I am easily distracted, I then forgot to wait expectantly for him to reappear, but thankfully I was still in the dining room when Seth came down, gripping both hands on the same side of the railing so he could find me with his eyes, with the happiest smile on his face that I’ve seen in a while. Bright and joyous, with his cheeks smiled out so roundly, on either side of his face. (Seth, are you turning into a bear?)
On May 22, 2021, our oldest son Jacob married Brittnee, & a dear and wonderful couple they make.
The wedding was BEAUTIFUL. I have so much stored up in my heart but not enough energy to get it out and expressed here on the blog. So there the story of the day remains (tucked away in my heart), for now.
dear friends, I love you all.
if you would like the link to the wedding photos, please email at email@example.com and I would be happy to provide it, if I know who you are. 🙂
I color the gray roots of my dark hair this morning in the bathroom, wearing one of my husband’s t-shirts and a pair of denim shorts, I feel young and healthy. I put on make up and go out to get my nails painted princess pink. I am alone and I am quiet. The sun is hot and I am walking among strangers. I am calm but little nostalgic tears are waiting behind my green eyes. Expressive and pure emotions are close to the surface. Two sides of the same woman; empty but full, sad but happy, proud yet down in the dust humble, tired but expectant, lonely yet full of love, strong yet wanting to hide, busy yet letting everything but the important things go for now, remembering everything yet wanting to push memory aside, I am thinking about Jacob’s baby face looking up at me in our first house while knowing he’s about to be married and he sends me a photo of himself in his tux because he went to pick it up today.
I find myself studying that photo with every blink of these mother eyes showing me the man and the baby, both.
Oh what a beautiful spring day it has been. The tender leaves and early growing grass is glowing in the 5:30pm sunshine. The view from the window is dazzling, with only enough breeze to make the leaves flutter. Rich is out walking, and the children are all off doing their own things, while I sit in the bedroom typing away………
I’ve gotten a bit of sun lately as we are spending a lot of time outside watching our baby ducklings. We drive them out of the coop in the morning and guide them to the pond, and they are mesmerizing to watch. The six of them stay on the edge in the water and busily dip their heads down underneath to find tasty grasses and moss and roots to eat. After so many years of chickens it’s fun to smile at the ducks’ bills and webbed feet, the funny but ideal shape of their bodies (boats!) and tiny wings (not feathered out yet). We think we have one male and five females, which Sarah agrees is something to thank God about, as we did not want more than one Mr. Donald Duck Drake. Sarah and I made a teepee tent over there, too, so we could get out of the sunshine now and then. There is a pair of barn swallows building a nest in the coop. David broke one of the small panes of glass up near the roof and we didn’t replace it so the swallows use that small opening to get in and out of the coop. Their nest is a marvel of engineering, what a wonderful thing, to build a perfect nest with just a tiny bird beak. There is a lot of bird activity down there, as the flock of hens also slowing moving around, enjoying the springtime worms and bugs.
I have planted half of my vegetable garden to radishes, beets, onions, carrots, potatoes, strawberries, and sweet peas. It sounds like a lot, but it’s really just one package of seeds each, and two strawberry plants from Tractor Supply. I also transplanted four wild strawberry plants that I dug up from the side of the road because they looked so healthy. I found a bag of potatoes in the pantry that had each sprung out shoots and Mom said I could just plant them and so I did. They already grew up through the soil and have dark green leaves. This is the first time I’ve grown potatoes and I’m already excited for the fall when I can unearth them. I have planted sunflowers, zinnias, and cosmos seeds in the flower beds. I’m not buying any seeds because the last couple of years I’ve bought them and never planted them. I am determined to plant them all this year…………My beaver down at the stream moved away, leaving hundreds of his old chewed off sticks behind, each with pointed ends, just perfect to use for garden markers, and so I find myself collecting an armful and my garden charmingly looks like it’s grown sticks (because I mark the ends of the rows and the middles, too)…..along with the real inhabitants of the soil, the growing vegetables. I have a healthy rhubarb patch and have made a cake with some of it and plan on baking a pie soon.
A week ago Sarah and I went for a magical walk at the end of the day, during golden hour. While we walked on the trails, in the woods, in the field, and as we picked apple blossoms that we found and admired new spring flowers, I told her that I had been thinking about a swing. I wanted one that was made with a board for a seat, and long ropes to tie up on a high branch in a tree. I wanted a wooden board for the seat and not a rubber one, because those hurt my hips with the squeezing. I wanted to swing from a tree on our property. So, she and I decided to do it. I didn’t stop to think that God was listening to us talk………..
A day or two later, I picked up Sarah from school. She had gone in for a test and she had an hour of free time until she had her next class (at home, on the computer) so we went to Tractor Supply and would you believe it? She “spied with her little eyes” a boxed swing kit there, ready for us to buy. All we had to do was convince her Dad to hang it up as soon as possible. And, he did! She and I have had the most wonderful times swinging in the tree by the pond, feeling the breeze as we go back and forth, taking turns on our swing. Now we want a swing in every tree.
Since the wedding is coming up on Saturday, Mom and I were texting today about what we were planning on wearing for the special day. She asked me to put my dress on and send her a picture, so I did. Sarah took the photos and I thought it would be fun to show them to you here on the old blog. Mother of the groom, can you even?
VERY young at heart, though!
The second to the last one is the photo I sent to Mom and she said, “You look good!” I had been resting in bed when she inspired me to dress up like this, and it was a fun afternoon pick-me-up!
Trusting as the moments fly, Trusting as the days go by; Trusting Him whate’er befall, Trusting Jesus, that is all.
When I keep my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of my faith, the way home is less anxious and less painful. It’s not entirely pain free, but it’s different, more wholesome, even the pain is rich with meaning and purpose.
Being vulnerable and open is a good way to be, but it hurts with intensity sometimes. However, an open heart can receive so much love and beauty. I couldn’t live without being able to have the beauty come inside of me. Despite the pain.
I read a quote about how we are more apt to write our trials in marble and our blessings in sand. I can relate to this.
I want to write a book about the growing-up-into-wisdom-trial I am coming out of. But I also want to throw away every reminder of it.
I am being amazed on an almost daily basis by the ways God shows up for me. When I live with my eyes WIDE open (“I once was blind but now I see”) I see it all PLUS some, and my imagination soars as I contemplate the things I STILL can’t see (yet), but God is doing it. Sort of like the middle of deep woods in the winter, the enchanting beauty there in that secret place that no human will see because it’s too hard to get to it, and yet……..it is there. It is.
None of us are alone in our struggles and hardships. We have each other to get through them.
Although I have felt worthless at times, I do know who I am; a beautiful soul. A lover of people. A faithful wife and a good mama. A friend. I’ve worked hard at living well in these areas. Not to feel good about myself; but because of the joy it brings me to live my life like this. Enjoying.
Overthinking is a good way to become soul-weary.
Living childlike (yet wise) is precious, carefree, and sweet.
I am thankful for my husband, my children, and the children who are about to marry into our family.
I am thankful for the warmth of these spring days. The warmth of this day, and that my cold is almost gone and I have more energy.
I am thankful for the knowledge I can find online at the click of a few buttons. Knowledge is power.
I am thankful for my good health and the peace and contentment within me at this moment.
I am thankful to be blogging.
I love to write here and I have missed it. I haven’t been “myself” (I’ve been becoming more of myself) in several years now, (a stepping away from blogging as I work on other things) but I am starting to gain the energy and desire to do the things I love to do (again…..) so here I am. I love you all, my dear blog friends. So gentle and kind. Let us have fun. Let us enjoy life.
“Blessed are we who shout: yes! do it! Turn things right side up again!”
I could always hear the hooting off in the distance usually across the road in the woods. Always it felt like a call and I wanted to go to it, I ached to do so. I had never seen an owl in the wild before.
I love this picture because it’s moody, dark and mysterious. Sarah came to get me. She had been over by the stream when it, like magic, swooped by to land and perch on a tree branch. We were delighted that it was still there. It looked at me as I clicked the shutter of my camera. The stream was flowing cool and steady past us and twilight had come. Sarah was smiling. She was glad I was able to get a good photo and she was the one who searched the bird book to identify it.
“Those who believe in tomorrow can live better today, and those who expect joy to come out of sadness can discover the beginnings of a new life in the center of the old, and those who look forward to the returning Lord can discover Him already in their midst.” ~Henri J.M. Nouwen, Readings and Reflections
On Easter Sunday! We were all together, all but Grace, and we had a rich and full day of family togetherness. After our ham dinner, I went for a walk and when I came back, Rich was leaving the driveway with three boys and Jacob was right behind him in his car with Brittnee, too. Rich rolled down his window to tell me that something was wrong with Parker and they were taking him to the vet. Seth was crying upstairs in his room and Sarah was distraught in the living room. I needed to stay behind with them. A little while later he called us and said that Parker’s heart was failing and there was nothing that could be done……I had a feeling of “fight or flight” panic as I all of a sudden wanted to be there for this faithful dog who had spent so many years with us, but in the end I comforted myself with the thought that he had his boys with him. We adopted him as a puppy and we were the only family he ever had…..for fourteen of the busiest and craziest years of our parenting lives. Caleb was 2 when we got him, Seth and Sarah have never known life without him……the older kids grew up with him…..we have so many memories of every kind…..because our dog (like all loved dogs) was everything to us and our seven children; fun, playful, mischievous, a run-away, pizza lover, sleep mate, explorer, friend, thief, comfort, listening ear, patient, pain-in-the-butt, faithful, naughty, and kind. He inspired songs, dances, stories, and inventions. He was given a house, food, warmth, and love, and he gave it all in return, plus more.
There came a time when he couldn’t get on the couch anymore.
Rich laughed and rolled his eyes when I spent over 200 dollars on the best dog bed on chewy.com. The thing had a tempur-pedic mattress and was big enough for three dogs, or, one dog and several children at once. It came with a removable cover and was brown just like him. Parker came to love his bed and just a few days before he died I noticed he was wandering around acting lost and I realized his bed was blocked by furniture. After I pulled things back where they belonged, he walked over and gently licked his bed and then got in it to scratch and scratch and then turn around and around, and sleep.
Then one day he started peeing on the floor. He couldn’t make it through the night without needing to go.
He started stumbling down the stairs. He followed Ethan up into the garage a couple months ago and Ethan had to carry him back down……
He proudly sported gray fur on his legs and face. He stopped jumping up on people when they came to visit.
Then, he started breathing more laboriously at times. He needed more rest. He didn’t run around as much. But he still followed me for his “daily egg”, a moment which never failed to amuse me. After collecting them from the coop, he would be waiting for me to hand him one, which he would carry to the driveway and let drop. After he cracked it, he would lap it up, with me standing and watching the whole time. It was a good show.
He went outside with us on Easter Sunday and wandered through the family photo I took on self-timer, making us all laugh. I ended up insisting that we keep trying so he could be in the photo. The last picture I got of him alive was after I had “released” the children and they all ran up to the house, Parker with them. “Aren’t you guys glad that mom’s done taking pictures?”
Rich brought him home and the boys dug his grave. Caleb and Ethan had already decided on the location, and it was the same place I had thought of as well. He had a young tree that he would go to with things he liked most (bones, cat food cans stolen from the counter, and stuffed animals he chewed the eyes off), and that is where he is buried now. We are turning it into a place to sit and think about him, with a chair, and now a hanging basket and bird feeder. It’s by the house and the garden and the driveway, and we think about him everyday. When we find one of his personal possessions, we give it to him. His collar is there, and several bones. For two nights after he died, Seth went out to say goodnight before going to bed. Jacob came to visit yesterday and when he came inside the house I noticed he was crying “I was saying hello to Parker.” Oh these children of mine, their hearts are big and strong. A family that includes pets does so much for the growing-up years. Often the silent love of a friend dog or cat is just what a boy or girl needs……
“I grew up in a pretty house and I had space to run and I had the best days with you.”
It began with coffee and journalling in bed with big Bags.
I had in mind that I would relax for a while like a queen. But then, Caleb came in the room and asked me to make a quiche. And the way he asked me was like this:
“You don’t want to make a quiche, do you?”
It’s the only way a teenage boy knows how to ask and I was charmed so I said “Yes!”
I would be delighted.
I was texting with Grace and told her I had made a quiche for Caleb. Being a reader and a writer she immediately replied “I want to write a story called A Quiche for Caleb” and I said, “I already did, with flour and eggs.”
I’m forever exhaling prayers and stories. They come right out of my heart, and out of my fingers. They come out whilst I am in the woods, on walks, in the house, in the car, but most of all, in the kitchen.
The crust is an easy oil crust; 2 1/4 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/2 cup oil, and 6 tablespoons of milk. I put the ingredients directly in the pan (9 by 13) and mix them with a fork. Then I pat the crust along the bottom and up the sides with my fingers (while listening to music).
For the filling I tend to use leftover bits from the fridge. Today I used up a dozen eggs (the hens lay a doz a day), a bread butt (they don’t get eaten), leftover honey baked chicken from last night’s dinner, basil (leftover from making eggplant parm last week), shredded cheddar cheese, onion powder, pepper, about 1 1/2 cups milk, and 1/4 cup mayonnaise. I whisked them all together (while talking with David, who was making himself a Creative Coffee using an ice cream cone and other things) and poured the egg mixture into the unbaked crust.
I left it in a 375 degree oven until done. Then, a beautiful rectangle was cut neatly and served on a yellow fiesta saucer to Caleb, the Wonderful.
(the kids have homeschool on Thursdays and Fridays). & I love it.
Then things got even more exciting for Yours Truly.
I left the house with a piece of quiche in my hand (yum) and went on a walk. It was cool outside so I wore jeans and a sweatshirt and off I went, listening to a podcast. I saw nothing of note until I turned around and came home. Then, next to the neighbor’s chainlink fence on the ground something caught my eye. I didn’t have anyone with me so I had to come home and draw a picture of myself in this moment of discovery:
Someone left their tail behind!
I reached my hand through the fence and picked it up. So fluffy, so soft that Seth asked me later if I had washed it.
My heart was filled with serendipity. What a beautiful gift from a very unfortunate baby bunny, whom I am sure is missing it rather badly. However, I accepted gratefully for what it was to me, a good luck charm. If a rabbit’s foot is lucky, a tail must be even more so! It was warm in my hand all the way home. It’s sitting right next to me as I type, along with an orange cat.
PS, If you would like the drawing, email me your address at firstname.lastname@example.org
I saw on the news this morning that the shooter in the Boulder grocery store killed ten people. I am 45 years old now, I have grown children, one of whom moved out into his own place this weekend, another of whom is working as a student teacher and going to college in another state. I have close family and friends everywhere. I have seen so much, after years of deep thinking I know more, I have learned and processed new and important things, and so maybe these are some of the reasons why it hit me harder this time, learning of another mass shooting.
Those people were just like you and me, doing what we always do, running errands and getting groceries, but they……. were shot at, traumatized, killed. It doesn’t make any sense to me, how a beautiful spring day can turn so ugly. And yet, if you read the stories you learn that the victims came together in crisis to help each other the best they could. You learn that a police officer sacrificed his life.
Is there nowhere safe anymore? Was there ever any place safe?
When confronted by the confusion of such unanswerable questions, I find myself stripped bare of everything but what I love the most; my people (friends and family), spirituality, nature, and home (my purpose).
So, because I was able, I told my people I loved them, I went outside for a long walk, and I went in the kitchen and made a cake. Cakes are typically for celebrations but today was a day for showing love.
I gathered eggs for the cake; produced for us daily by a flock of feathered hen-friends. I gave one to the dog (who knows that he has to drop it, not on the soft lawn, but on the driveway, so it will crack open and he can eat it) and then put the rest in the house before going for a walk.
I stopped and rested by the stream and thought about the beaver. I wished I could see him. How very industrious he is, chewing down each and every tree that he is able to. This stick was standing up, leaning against a large tree (large trees are safe from beavers), it’s bark entirely removed by the teeth of the beaver who ate it like corn from a cob. (I decided I’m bringing back the handkerchief.)
Then, my feet led me to a spot in the field where some scat lay. I noticed that it appeared to be entirely fur. As I stood there looking down at it, I saw something within the fur that looked otherwise. So I took a stick, knelt down, and started poking around.
Soon I had the fur-poo pulled apart, and the contents that I had discovered, in my pocket.
I headed to the stream to wash my hands over and over in the ice-cold water.
The forest on early spring days is so………gray.
As is the grass.
And what’s this I see so far from home? A spoon.
A spoon from my own kitchen! To have children is to be constantly surprised one way or the other.
Thus, I went home with a spoon in one pocket, a hanky in another, and poo-bits in the third.
But before I got there, I found a green bottle and hung it in a tree.
Every walk I go on is fascinating. And I realized something, although I have a second home in Georgia, I feel like my best self and most inspired self in my dear New England.
I emptied my pocket onto a piece of brown paper bag. Furry teeth and bones. Someone needs to tell that animal that teeth are indigestible.
From that to baking. I was able to use up six eggs on my cake. By the time it had cooled Rich was in the house, the boys were home from school, and Sarah and Brittnee were home from the apartment (where they hung out today, to wait for a couch to be delivered). Therefore, I had an audience watching me frost the cake. “What are you going to write on it, Mom?” they cried.