happy halloween!

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I bought Seth and Seth’s costumes at Costco over a month ago and didn’t let them try them on or anything, they were beyond thrilled when Halloween finally came.  They wore their costumes for half the day.  Sarah’s Snow White skirt sprinkled glitter all over the house.

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She loved her magic wand.

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Those bare toes!  The day was cloudy and damp, but mild, in the 60’s.

Rich got home around 5:30 and I went to get Jacob from school.  Jacob dressed up as an Army guy for Halloween, he was so excited to go trick or treating.  David and Caleb wanted to be Ninjas.  I ordered their costumes from amazon but they were allowed to wear theirs last week to a school event and a party.   Of course, in the meantime, Caleb lost his mask so we resorted to painting his face.  They also lost their belts.  They were happy, regardless.  It was finally time to go!

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David and Caleb carried pillowcases to collect their candy in and the little ones carried McDonald’s buckets that the Happy Meals came in last week.

We drove to the school to get Grace from drama rehearsal.  Ethan stayed home because he thinks Halloween is ridiculous.

The only sad thing that happened was Jacob kept getting ignored at the doors.  He finally gave up trying to be a kid just out to have fun trick or treating, took his military stuff off,  and my heart ached……he ended up with a little bit of candy, but it’s just not the same when you’re 16 and six feet tall trying to go around with younger siblings and people are giving you dirty looks (so he thought).  Sometimes it’s hard to grow up.  Maybe next year he can go with a bunch of friends his own age?  I don’t know, how old were you when you stopped trick or treating?

Grace didn’t have a costume and spent her time helping Sarah Joy and talking my ear off.  She decided she was dressed as Sarah’s “nanny” and we all laughed when someone asked her what she was dressed up as and Caleb said, “She’s our little sister’s granny.”  LOL  “Nanny, kid.  Nanny.”  she corrected.

It was fun to be outside walking the dark streets with the children, they were perfectly satisfied after about an hour and came home with enough candy to last at least a couple of days.

Once in a young lifetime one should be allowed to have as much sweetness as one can possibly want and hold.  ~Judith Olney

our place

HOME HEART

(source: pinterest)

I’m several years behind the times but I recently finished watching the entirety of the BBC series “Lark Rise to Candleford” on amazon prime.  It originally began airing in 2008 and was a beautiful series in so many ways.  As soon as I realized I was nearing the end of it, I ordered the trilogy of novels (of the same name) by Flora Thompson and am currently on page 251 of 556 delightful pages.  The novels are described as “the quintessential distillation of English country life at the turn of the twentieth century.”  (source: back cover of the book).

Here is a description of what “home” meant for the people of the hamlet at that time:

“But, as fond as they were saying, money isn’t everything.  Poor as they were, every one of the small cottages, so much alike when seen from the outside, had for its inmates the unique distinction of being ‘our place’ or ‘ho-um’.  After working in the pure cold air of the fields all day, the men found it comforting to be met by, and wrapped round in, an atmosphere of chimney-smoke and bacon and cabbage-cooking; to sink into ‘fey-ther’s chair’ by the hearth, draw off heavy, mud-caked boots, take the latest baby on their knee and sip strong, sweet tea while ‘our Mum’ dished up the tea-supper.

The elder children were either at school all day or lived out doors in fine weather; but, as their mothers said, they knew which house to go to when they felt hungry, and towards dusk they made for their supper and bed like homing pigeons, or rabbits scurrying to their burrow.

To the women, home was home in a special sense, for nine-tenths of their lives were spent indoors.  There they washed and cooked and cleaned and mended for their teeming families; there they enjoyed their precious half-hour’s peace with a cup of tea before the fire in the afternoon, and there they bore their troubles as best they could and cherished their few joys.  At times when things did not press too heavily upon them they found pleasure in re-arranging their few poor articles of furniture, in re-papering the walls and making quilts and cushions of scraps of old cloth to adorn their dwelling and add to its comfort….”

Home life is important, and although there are too many sad and broken homes, this little picture of an old English hamlet is what I wish it could be for everyone; comforting, filling, nurturing, special, enjoyable, peaceful……..

It is also a good reminder to continue making my own home as welcoming as I can, despite how tiresome it can be.  (laundry & messes forever, it seems).

But is it the cooking and cleaning that really matter?  Deep deep down, even with the never-ending messes, it’s the heart of the home that truly matters.  The soul.  There is beauty is a mess, too, of a full and messy life, my children, my husband, our living, our love.  There is a lot to be said for the woman that can, in wisdom, overlook the less important thing like a perfectly clean home, so that she can enjoy the things that truly matter;  a calm spirit, giving, listening, sharing, understanding the ones that she cares for.

Oh yes, I want that.  The trains on the floor ready to be played with, marker on the toddler hands as a sign of creativity, spending an extra hour in pj’s because we can, and it’s comfortable.  A cat curled up beside me and Sarah with her blanket.

*****

Some photos from around our place, and our happenings.

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I love my husband so much.  He’s been extra busy this week with work.  He had a long meeting last night, so important that one of the executives, who had tickets to the World Series final game, had to miss it for work!  (so sad)  Anyway, this man of mine grew up on a farm and at the end of an axe, chopping wood for his Dad…..and he was thrilled to order logs to be chopping for our own fireplace this year.  In typical fashion, he ordered way more than necessary, and I’m sure this amount of wood will last for several years.  In the meantime, he now has his boys at the ends of the axes.  His boys, plus Mike.  (who is like family)

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The kittens are good and trained to behave like babies.

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Sarah had pretty hair!

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I have been organizing toys and as soon as the blocks were all in one basket rather than five toy boxes, they were played with again, under lamps, on the floor, by the book basket and the little rocking chair from Grandma and Grandpa.

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Sarah at my side as I was taking pictures of the woolly aphids.

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I have a lot of pictures of Sarah.  Going to her first dentist appointment!

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She was so funny in the chair.  Three tiny cavities!  The shame of it!

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Kara, my chickens are molting.

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Now that we’ve had our killing frosts, I’ve been pulling up dead plants in the garden.  To our surprise and joy, we also pulled up two fat toads, first one by the rosemary, then the other by a tomato plant!  They were so cute tucked away under the ground, already drowsy and ready for hibernation.  Seth kept them in a box as I worked, and then we put them back.  See you in the spring, Mr. and Mrs. Toad!

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Playing with my dishes!  I’m slowly working my stuff out of the storage room and into our new space.  I washed a pile of fiesta plates that I’ve had tucked away for a few years; a vintage red, cobalt, rose, and turquoise, a discontinued evergreen, and yellow.  Also, my “genuine fiesta collector” plate that I ordered years ago from the old Betty Crocker catalogue.

out moose

(someone else’s internet photo of “Our Moose”.)

My friend Caroline stopped at the end of our road yesterday because there was a crowd of people looking at, and taking pictures of, A MOOSE, which is rare in these parts.  This was exciting, but at the same time, she also met the new neighbors, who moved into our old gardener-friend’s house about a month ago.  And she found out that they are born again Christians!  They had already heard about me, and wanted to meet us, because their daughter has EIGHT children, and homeschools.  I wasn’t able to be a part of all this excitement, because I was gone for the day at CBS, but it was an absolute thrill.  A moose and Christian neighbors and the possibility of new friendships!  I love how God works.

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Shall I mention Halloween?

My children have been counting down the days for over a month.  They are “dying” to dress up and go.

But, will it storm?

Will Rich get home in time to help me drive them around to knock on doors?

This is a sincerely scary day for yours truly.

it’s somebody named seth

blue guys

 

Seth, our youngest boy (of which we have five) has been heart achingly cute this weekend (and always).  He did many cute things which will not be mentioned here today.   However, the two blue guys must be mentioned.  Rich and I had to run errands on Saturday morning and Seth came along, bringing with him white paper, a drawing book, and a blue marker.  He is an energetic sort of person, lighthearted,  jolly,  fun, sparkling with LIFE, so to see him concentrating back there in his seat with a marker was too much.  Then, to see his drawing!  I delight.  The bendable arms!  The hands like balls!  The long frog-like mouths!  And the speech bubble!  He only knows one word, and it is “H”.

The blue guys remind me of the song Jacob (16) has been playing over and over; “Blue (Da Ba De)” from Iron Man 3.  It’s so weird, I laugh.

When we were out running errands, Rich and Ethan dropped Sarah and me off at Eddie Bauer so I could return the pants which were too short and baggy.  Then we went to Gap Kids.  I made a discovery.  Sarah, who is three now, apparently loves to go shopping.  I’ve never specifically “gone shopping” with her other than the typical grocery or Target runs.  She was dreadfully hard to manage.  Happy, eager, decisive.   She managed to buy some black boots, and tights that have a teddy bear on the bum, but Seth (who was with his Dad and brother) also made out well.  I bought him some new church clothes.

****

Sunday morning.  Oh, Sunday morning how you challenge me.  But dressing Seth, who was properly scrubbed with a white washcloth of all blue marker remnants, was a satisfaction.  He was clean.  He was clean AND stylish, wearing clothes which were neither too big, nor too small, nor ripped, nor mismatched.  It called for a short photo shoot.

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He understands, his mother fusses, and thinks he’s pretty special.

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The drive to church was alarmingly quiet.  The back seat normally fools and teases; all was silent.  Rich and I took attendance, wondering if we accidently left someone behind.  All was well, “This is the nicest trip to church we’ve ever had!” I remarked.  Ethan laughed.

The children are all too old to go to nursery during church services and the hour is long for them and for me.  It starts out so beautiful; we snuggle in, oh it’s so warm and sweet to be singing together and worshiping.  Then.  It gets even warmer.  I need a little space.  The small boys can’t handle sitting by me, they know I am the soft parent and will soothe, pat, give mints, give anything to keep them quiet.  Outwardly I am serene, inwardly I am getting more and more tense.  Why is this song so long and loud?”  Seth wonders.  We survive.  Seth’s outer shirt is removed, he’s hot.  Sarah is put in the nursery again “just this once”.  I pass out mints.  The sermon starts, and as Gary preaches about raising godly children in modern day America, Seth begins to fall asleep.

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When I showed Seth his pictures this morning he gazed and I said, “Who’s that?”

“It’s nobody.” he says.

“Yes, it is!”  I say,  “It’s Somebody.  It’s somebody named Seth.”

*****

I enjoyed Seth and his siblings so much this weekend that I left yesterday afternoon and spend three blissful hours, alone, at Barnes and Noble bookstore.

what David did with his hour

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“Every child is entitled to one happy, care-free hour every day.  We, in our anxiety to surround him with every safeguard, inspire him to greater effort, and lead him into habits of industry and righteousness, are likely to leave him no time for leisure.  That is a great mistake.  Provide for his hour of freedom and let him do as he likes.  Even when he does things that you wish he wouldn’t.  Let him.”

Child Training by Angelo Patri, 1922

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David, age 11, is a cartoonist now.  He read this book, by Betsy Byars, and is now excitedly forming a new group at school.  Last year was an origami club, and now it’s a drawing comic strips club.  He says he has all of his friends doing it.

(“When the boy organizes a club, encourage it.  It is the sign of leadership.  The clutter of boys about the place annoys you.  Their noise bothers you.  You have troubles enough with your own sons without gathering the neighbors’ as well.  Be patient.  Be glad that it is your son that is doing the gathering.  He is leading.  He is learning to carry responsibilities.  Help him along.”  Angelo Patri)

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As soon as he arrived home from school yesterday, David set to work.  He cleared off the small table upstairs and then hunted down all the colored pencils in the house he could find.  He chose his Dad’s coffee mug to put them in.  That done, he set out to find a lamp.  He found one in his sister’s room and took it to his table to plug it in.  Now he had light to work by.  He got some pure white paper, sat in his chair…..and worked for such a long time.  His brother Caleb had to beg him to go out to jump on the trampoline with him. Then right back to his table he went, until it was nighttime.

The evenings are so busy, I wasn’t paying much attention to his pursuits.  But when he came and showed me his finished comic strip, I thank the Lord that I took the time to really study it and talk to him about it, and I was impressed.

This morning while he was busy making his lunch, he said this:

“For once I understand how to draw good comics.  You have to put all your life’s skill into it.”

It was after writing that one down that I began to realize just how interested he was in drawing comics.

All on his own:

He read a book.

He gather up supplies.

He formed a club at school.

He set up his own work station.

After he was gone, I went upstairs to look at what David did with his hour yesterday.

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He kept asking me where a tan was.  He needed TAN.  I didn’t know.  This morning I saw his practice paper, where he was trying to figure out what to do.  (He ended up using a tan crayon.)

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He hung up pictures of his club from last year.  He loves these pictures.  His teacher took them, and gave them to him.

(By the way, a couple weeks ago I found David weeping over his memory book from 2nd grade.  He put it away and wrote his 2nd grade teacher a note, made a homemade envelope, and mailed it to her.  She wrote him back!)  He has such a tender heart and so wise beyond his years.

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With David’s example, Seth and Caleb are busy making cartoons now, too.

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Complete with shocking boy humor.  (Caleb)

radiance

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“The impact Sister Julienne made upon me-and, I discovered, most people-was out of proportion to her words or  her appearance.  She was not imposing or commanding, nor arresting in any way.  She was not even particularly clever.  But something radiated from her and, ponder as I might, I could not understand it.  It did not occur to me at the time that her radiance had a spiritual dimension, owing nothing to the values of the temporal world.”

(~ from Call the Midwife, by Jennifer Worth)

***

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Therefore if any man be in Christ,
he is a new creature:
old things are passed away;
behold, all things are become new.

2 Corinthians 5:17

***

Hello my friends!  I hope each of you is having a wonderful day.  I was at Bible Study all day and then made a run to Costco for groceries.  I’ve changed into comfortable clothes now and am getting ready to cook dinner/love on, the family.  David is busy drawing, Caleb and Seth are outside playing, Sarah is napping, and the older ones are at after school activities.  Rich should be home within an hour or so.  It’s chilly today, in the low 50’s at the moment, and a frost advisory for tonight.

I hope you like the quote, it is one that I wrote in my journal this last winter as I read through all of Jennifer Worth’s wonderful books (highly recommended).  I can think of women in my own life that radiate the love of Jesus and I pray that I can be a blessing in that way, as well.

carving pumpkins

(a simply lovely life)

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.”  Henry David Thoreau

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“Sylvie scooped all the seeds and pulp out, then Grandpawp made eyes and a nose and a big grinning mouth with horrid crooked teeth.”  Pumpkin Moonshine, (1938) by Tasha Tudor

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“It was evening by then so they put a lighted candle inside the pumpkin to make him look as fierce and horrid as all true Pumpkin Moonshines should.”

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“Sylvie and Grandpawp put the Pumpkin Moonshine on the front gate post, then they hid in the bushes to watch how terrified the passers by would be at the sight of this fierce Pumpkin Moonshine.  They had a wonderful time.”

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“Sylvie Ann saved the pumpkin seeds.  Next spring she planted them.  The vines grew up and ran all over the cornfield, with lots of pumpkins on them, just waiting to be made into pumpkin pies and Pumpkin Moonshines to please good little girls like Sylvie Ann.”

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The children had Columbus day off from school and Mike came for the day.  They had such fun carving their pumpkins.  I’ve read Pumpkin Moonshine to the little ones so much that they use that name, which I find so dear.  Sarah wouldn’t touch the “guts”, they were too disgusting for her.  Mike carved Seth’s pumpkin for him, and I did Sarah’s and Caleb’s.  Ethan printed off a design so his was very unique, a hand.  Grace and David didn’t carve theirs, Grace wasn’t feeling well and Dave was at a friend’s house.  It was a fine time out in the bright day, with seeds flying and pumpkin pieces dropping down in the grass.

Just yesterday, Sarah was on the porch with me and she bumped into Jacob’s pumpkin.  It bounced away, rolled down the hill and splashed into the pond.  It’s floating there even now.  I thought Jacob would be mad, but he laughed when I told him.

w.a. (kinda gross)

I’ll fix the title to this post eventually but I didn’t want to give away the name of my nature discovery too soon.

I was outside on Friday, keeping an eye on the children as they jumped on the trampoline, and as I wandered over to the stream I noticed what I thought was white fungus growing on a slender trunk of a bush. I was curious about it so I walked over to take a closer look. It was like cotton, with pure bright white wisps of it gently waving. I noticed a couple of ants and thought how strange….ants tend to be attracted to sweetness. I got closer and closer, making up my mind that it probably was not a fungus.  Not like any fungus I had ever seen before (I haven’t seen much, I admit).

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It was wrapped right around the branch,  and when I touched it with my fingertip it felt squishy and alive.

 

I bent the stick down to look at the other side.

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And I realized that underneath all that whiteness was filled, FILLED with tiny little bugs.  Some were as tiny as lice, and others were about the size of a radish seed.  All of them were soft and gray with little legs.  They moved!  A creepy, itching feeling came over me (all in my mind), I kept studying the thing, like I couldn’t stay away!

I went into the house to Google, not really believing it would be a quick answer, but I had to know the name of what I discovered.

I typed in:  “looks like cotton on a tree branch but it is really bugs” and the very first link that popped up was about Woolly Aphids.

WOOLLY APHIDS!

(David was close!  He said they were “cotton bugs”)

(yes, I showed all the children, too)

Woolly aphids are so weird!  They are (and I quote) a sucking insect that lives on plant fluids and produces a filamentous waxy white covering which resembles cotton or wool. The adults are winged and move to new locations where they lay egg masses.  – Wikipedia.

 

What I discovered were little baby woolly aphids, clumped together as a safety precaution.  The white stuff was a wax that they produce as a camouflage.  But get this!  They secrete something sweet called HONEYDEW, which is what was attracting the ants.  I can’t get over it!  HONEYDEW!  God is amazing.  God is creative.  God is fun!

My family is so obliging and when I asked them, “Do you want to see the Woolly Aphids?” they all came along to see.  They didn’t really say yes with enthusiasm, but still, they came.

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Ants trying to find some sweet honeydew.

 

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One of the larger aphids, with it’s waxy strands coming out the end.  On Grace’s fingertip.

 

I did wonder if they were harmful, should I destroy them?  But from what I read online, they are not a cause of great concern, so I left them be.  They were outside on the wild bushes by the wild stream and doing no one any harm, so they could stay.  They will grow up and turn into little tiny flying bugs.

I knocked a couple off the branch when I was showing them to Grace and she felt sorry for them, but that was taking “nature love” a little too far, I thought.

 

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