More Thanks

Even though the usual host of Multitudes Monday is absent today (check out her blog for her sister's explanation), I still want to post a gratitude list. Some of these were written down last week, some only listed in my head because we were so busy with friends and family that I didn't have a chance to grab my journal and write.

• My new laptop :) Carl said last night that going from a PC to a Mac is like going from a Ford to a Mercedes--the initial transfer might be rough, trying to understand and get a feel for everything, but once you're settled in, you can never, ever go back.
• My new hair color. I was a little uncertain about it at first, but I'm used to it now, and I'm amazed at how much more fun it is to look in the mirror now. 

• Grandfathers and granddaughters. My grandfather came within a hairsbreadth of dying a couple of weeks ago; it was a very great blessing to share one more Thanksgiving with him (and hopefully many more!). And seeing my dad with his granddaughters is an amazing joy.

• Hand-knit sweaters from Oma

• Pom-poms on baby hoods

• No responsibilities (except children) for a week
• Hands and knees and attempts to crawl

• Playing outside, not in a park, but just in a giant backyard (and a porch with three separate sets of steps for climbing!)

• Mountains. And lakes. Especially mountains with lakes at their base

• Coming home to a (mostly) clean house and settling back into our usual routine, refreshed and renewed.

And now, my friends, we can start preparing for ...

CHRISTMAS!!!!!

A Golden Afternoon

One of the joys of having my Macbook is that now I can finally get the pictures from my digital SLR (Nikon D40, for those curious) off the camera and onto the computer--which means I can share them with you all! These pictures are from an afternoon we spent in the park back in October. It was a rare warm day, with the leaves on the ground and in the trees still, and I was able to get some beautiful shots. Here are just a few of my favorites.

Even though you can't see Joy's face, I still like this shot.

My handsome husband

Another profile shot. I like the wind-blown effect of her hair, and the concentration on her face!

Gracie wasn't too sure about playing in the leaves. She's so expressive!

Don't they look like they're sharing secrets? I love father-daughter moments!

We go home tomorrow. I've had a great time, but I'm ready to be home, settling back into our daily routine and quieting down. And, of course, preparing for Christmas and New Year's. We're going to try to decorate next weekend--our first year when we have a kid who is old enough to be excited about Christmas!

We're going to have our families out on New Year's Day for games and fun. I'm trying to think of some fun and meaningful activities we could do--any suggestions?

I hope all my Yankee friends have had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and my Canadian (and other nationalities) friends simply a wonderful weekend.

Hello, Surprise

Thanksgiving Day was a definite improvement over Thanksgiving Eve.

I'm typing this on my new Macbook.

My husband is awesome.

Not because he got me the laptop for which I've been begging for ages.

Not even because he sneakily worked with my sister and parents to have it shipped here and hidden in Lis and David's attached apartment until we exchanged presents.

But because he did all this, acted totally out of character (he doesn't do surprises, or plot things out for me), just as an expression of his love. He could have just given me the laptop. I would have been thrilled just by that. But he wanted it to be special for me, so he plotted quite elaborately to do just that.

Carl, I love you. Not for the laptop, but because it shows the kind of man you are. Thanks, Babe.

This turned out to be a pretty swell Thanksgiving after all.

A Cursed Thanksgiving Eve

Earlier this evening, I had an allergic reaction to the asiago cheese Mom was grating for cheese biscuits for supper. Yes, the only thing in the entire world to which I am allergic is strong cheese. Not milk, not mild cheese (I love me some Montery Jack), but strong cheese, like sharp cheddar or, obviously, asiago. My cheeks start to tingle, my face flushes, and I get light-headed and dizzy. Weird? Oh yeah.

Anyway, so the smell of the cheese was enough to send me scurrying to another part of the house. That was the first item.

While Mom was removing the candy thermometer from a bowl, it shattered in her hand and sliced her thumb so deeply that I thought she was going to need stitches (she said no, she'd just add another scar to her collection). Thankfully Joy was already in bed, so nobody was upset at the sight of the blood. Except Mom, obviously, and she was only upset because it was her blood. Second item.

As Dad was wrapping gauze around her thumb, the phone rang. It was Lis, calling to say that in the last stretch--not ten miles down the road--of their five-hour journey they hit a deer. They were fine, but the deer was wounded and they wanted Dad to bring his gun to put it out of its misery. He said that he couldn't because it's illegal, so they called the sheriff, who came but did nothing but write out a report. Left the deer. Lis and David were Not Pleased.

This is one Thanksgiving we'll never forget.

Even if we might want to.

So Fun

Right now I'm listening to Dad read a Rainbow Fish story to the girls. Gracie is squealing in delight at every page, and Joy is clapping her hands whenever something good happens. They're both sitting on his lap, and I'm not sure which of the three is happiest.

I wish we lived closer. I'm glad we at least have this week together.

Hello and Goodbye

Just a quick note to say that I am at my parents this week (yay!) and my mother's computer doesn't always like me. Apparently, it especially doesn't like it when I try to leave comments on other people's blogs, as I found out when I wrote a lovely long detailed comment on Jo's latest post, only to have it mysteriously disappear when I hit "submit." So, I will most likely be mostly incommunicado this week. I am reading your posts--just not always able to comment!

My posts, as well, will be spotty, because I never know when I'm going to get kicked off.

Carl, when am I getting my Macbook?????

The Quest for Blue Sky

"Rain, rain, rain," Robert chanted glumly, staring out the window with a scowl on his face. "I hate the rain."

Annie squinted hopefully at the sky. "I think it might be trying to clear off."

"No," said Robert, the eternal pessimist. "It's going to rain forever. Forever and ever and ever."

"Becca, don't you think it's clearing up?" Annie persisted, turning to the third person in the room.

Becca looked up from her book. "Hm?" she said vaguely, obviously not having heard a word of the preceding conversation.

"Good luck trying to get anything sensible out of Becca," Robert grumbled. "She's done nothing but read ever since we got here. What's the point of going to the country on vacation if you're going to read all day, every day!"

Becca carefully put her bookmark back to mark her place, and set the bok aside, a tolerant smile on her plain but pleasant face. "Well, it's better than complaining about the weather, isn't it?"

"There!" Annie said, pointing out the window. "There's some blue sky!"

"But it's still raining here," Robert said. He sighed. Robert was not really a disagreeable boy; he was just bitterly disappointed. He'd been looking forward to this country vacation--no parents, no school, no city, just an elderly aunt and uncle who had the good sense to leave children to their own devices--ever since he'd heard his parents discussing the possibility last winter. Now the long-anticipated vacation was here, and so far it had done nothing but rain for three days, trapping the siblings inside.

Annie, the ever-hopeful, kept making plans about everything they could do outside when the rain stopped; Becca delved into their uncle's extensive library and was happy as a mole in the ground. Robert, lacking his younger sister's sanguine temperament or his elder sister's adaptability, was left fretting.

Becca watched her brother thoughtfully as he kicked his heels gloomily against the window seat. For all that her brother and sister always thought her head in the clouds, Becca was as keen an observer of human nature as she was of literary treasures, and she had a soft spot for poor Robert: a boy sandwiched between two sisters, a lad who longed for great adventure and the wild outdoors when he lived in a tiny apartment in the crowded city.

"Annie's right," she said, standing up decisively. "There is blue sky out there. Come on, you two, get your mud boots and rain jackets."

""It's pouring out here," Annie said uncertainly. "Why don't we just wait until the rain stops? I'm sure it will clear up soon." She had been saying the same thing for three days now.

"We're not going to wait," Becca said, shooing them in front of her toward the hall closet like a hen ushering her chicks to the coop. "If there's blue sky, we're going to find it."

Robert's eyes began to sparkle. "A quest! The Search for Sunshine."

"But it's almost lunchtime," Annie protested.

"We'll ask Auntie to pack us some sandwiches," Becca said, diving into the closet and tossing boots and coats out randomly. Robert ducked as one of Uncle's wellingtons narrowly missed his nose. "My backpack's water resistant, so I'll carry our food in that."

Anne was still unsure, but Becca  didn't wait for any more objections. She left the other two pulling on their rain gear while she hunted Auntie down and begged a picnic lunch off her. In a surprisingly short amount of time, the three were outdoors.

The rain was still pouring out of the sky, and the ground was soggy underfoot, but the air was marvelously fresh and clean, and the fields and woods beckoned alluringly. Off in the distance, the patch of blue sky seemed to wave them forward.

"Right, Robert," Becca said, adjusting her glasses on her nose and wishing for the hundredth time that they came with little windshield wipers. "You're the leader of this expedition. Take us to the blue sky!"

Robert pointed forward with Uncle's walking stick he had borrowed. "Onward!" he cried.

In a straight line, the intrepid siblings marched forward, seeking their adventure.


No especial point to this, just a little sketch that wanted a home. So I gave it one.

hair: a pain, it is

I'm getting my hair colored in less than one week. This has proven to be a surprisingly difficult task. What color do I want? Do I just do highlights, or go all out? Do I go red, strawberry, auburn, or blonder? (We already ruled out brown)

This is what my hair looks like now:

I think the color is officially known as dark ash blonde. I call it drab. I've been leaning toward getting it much lighter, instead of messing with red. This is what I think I want, but I can't tell if it is too drastic a change:

I don't want to go full-out platinum, but I love the pale gold look.

So here's my question: Is it too drastic to go from dark ash to near-platinum? Will it look good on me? Since I only get my hair colored once a year, will it look too dreadful as it grows out?

I guess that's more like three questions. I would definitely appreciate people's opinions, since Carl's not much help in this area, and my all-time fashion consultant, Lis, is too busy to answer my every question.

Also, if you have any suggestions of anything you think might work better, I'm interested in those, too!

Simple Pleasures

Both girls, amazingly enough, are napping. French bread to go with supper tonight (homemade chicken and wild rice soup) is rising in the kitchen. The sun is shining so brightly that I have the front door to the porch open to catch every bit of natural warmth and light possible.

The quilt I am tying for Joy is partially done; I will work on that as soon as I have the bread in the oven. I borrowed part of the first season of Alias from our library, and Sydney Bristow is helping me quilt.

Yesterday I wrote out several different lists for this week: Things to do; Menu; Pack--Louise; Pack--Girls. This is necessary; I am so scatter-brained that without lists I never can remember everything that needs to get done. Plus, I feel such a thrill in checking things off when they are completed. The packing lists, obviously, won't be needed until Friday or Saturday, but I've already started checking items off the Things to do list, and I feel pretty good about that.

Grandpa's progressing well--thank you all for your prayers. Dad is tired, but also doing well (considering he has to try to balance work, pastoring, and being with Grandpa).

Carl's Bible Study last night went not at all as expected, but phenomenally well; giving him one of the best conversations he's had with anyone in the last several months (except me. Naturally.). I had a lovely, lovely conversation with Laura while Carl was gone, all about books and movies made from books and more books.

Spur-of-the-moment this morning I made pancakes for Joy and me, a special treat that we both enjoyed, all the more because of its unexpectedness.

We go to the chiropractor this afternoon.

NCIS is on tonight.

Life is good. God is good.

Not quite a multitude

I admit it: I totally failed at keeping up with my gratitude list this week. I do, however, have two items which have sort of overwhelmed everything else.

I am thankful:

• that I get to spend a week at home starting next Sunday
• that my grandfather is still alive

To take those in reverse order:

Every Thursday, my dad and grandfather go out together for supper. This past week, Grandpa wasn't sure about going; he'd been suffering from shortness of breath all week and didn't really want to do anything to make it worse. He decided to go, however, and by the time they were done eating told Dad he hated to say it, but he really thought he ought to go to the emergency room. Dad agreed.

Once there, they found out Grandpa had several blood clots in his lungs, and if they'd waited much longer to come in, he would, as they put it to Dad, have gone out horizontal. As it was they put him on blood thinners and are keeping him for a week, and then he should be able to go home. Vertical.

Grandpa's 84. I know, theoretically, that his time here on earth is limited. But he's always, always been a rock-solid part of my life, and I found out this week how unready I am to let him go. I am glad God is letting us have him a bit longer, and thankful too that we got this warning jolt, to remind all of us in the family to cherish the time we have left with him. Because he's not going to be around forever.

(Incidentally, I'm also glad the Lord didn't decide to take him while he and Dad were at dinner. That just would have been too much for Dad to bear.)

As for the other, Mom is coming down on Saturday, and she's taking the girls and me back for the week, to be joined by Carl on Wednesday afternoon. I am most emphatically not looking forward to not seeing Carl for  two and a half days, but oh, a few days of extra help, of no responsibilities, of a yard in which Joy can play (provided it doesn't rain all week), of being able to visit Grandpa and tell him how much we love him and let him meet Gracie for the first time, of family ...

It's helping me get through the sleep-broken nights and frustrating days.

And I am thankful.

Aimless

I've never understood it when people say they have nothing to blog about. I always have a million blog posts running through my head.

Today, I have nothing to blog about.

Oh, I could talk about how little sleep I'm getting ... or about how frustrating it is when my stubborn two-year-old Will Not Nap and then is miserable and disobedient the rest of the day ... or cheer myself up slightly with talking about how the girls and I are going up to my folks for the entire week of Thanksgiving ... or ask you all your opinion on what color I should do for my hair (I'm getting it trimmed and highlighted when I go home, and I can't decide between auburn, strawberry, or light blonde) ... or talk about the blog post, and then the news article on two completely different issues that both really angered me this morning ... or about how it's either really funny or really cool that Elvis Stojko is releasing a music single and I can't decide which ...

There are plenty of things I could write about. I just don't really have the ambition or the energy to write about any of them. Nothing seems particularly interesting.

I think I'll go speak sternly to Joy again about disobeying Mamma (I can hear her kicking and talking loudly in bed after I told her to be quiet (which is not out of meanness, but because when she is loud and active she does not chatter herself to sleep, like some kids, but gets herself more worked up until she forgets that she's supposed to be napping and gets up to play. Same reason she's not allowed to read in bed--instead of reading herself to sleep, she reads and then gets up to play.)) and get myself some lunch and sit down with the most recent Mary Russell book I got out from the library. I'm cruising through the series--up to Book 7 already! What will I do when I've read them all?

In the meantime, I think it's a day to be cozy in my sweatpants and not think too hard.

Someone just got out of bed. Have to go!

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

 

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Photo borrowed from flowersop.com

Happy "D" Words

Daffodils:

 

Daughters:

Dad (and Mom):

 

 and

Dancing:

Daylight:

Thank you to Laura and Andrea for your suggestions. Any others?

Searching for Peace

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had a wonderful long conversation with my mother on Friday. Actually, I had another with her on Saturday, but it was Friday's conversation that is relevant to this post.

My mother suffered from what today would be diagnosed as clinical depression for several years when my sister and I were little. Back then, it wasn't called anything, because nobody ever spoke of it. Especially not in the church, because good Christians didn't get depressed. On the bright side of this farce, it meant that Mom was able to beat her depression without drugs or therapy (because non-Christian therapists would have told her it was her religion that was making her depressed, and there also weren't any Christian therapists back then).

So, whenever I start struggling with--I won't call it depression, because having seen depression up close and personal as a little kid I know I don't have that--discouragement and despondency (gosh, "d" must be the saddest letter in the alphabet), I call Mom. I know that she will take me seriously, and I also know that she always has good strategies for beating depression, or in my case, preventing discouragement from sliding into depression.

All this to say, she gave me some extremely helpful advice on Friday. She said to ask myself what it is that I need to not be depressed--not what am I lacking, because that's another negative, but a positive. What can I strive for. (Yes, I know I ended that sentence with a preposition.) For her, it was contentment. She needed to find a way to be content before she could climb out of her depression.

So I thought, and the first thing that came to mind that I want--need--is peace. To be peace-filled. Not to have my outside surroundings be peaceful, although that would be lovely. But I need to have peace within me, to not stress over so much, to not worry, to not fret, to be calm. At rest. Peace.

At this point, I don't know how exactly to go about gaining that. But that's okay. Mom said knowing what you need is as important a step as trying to acquire that trait. So I'm asking God to show me how to be filled with peace, and I'm actively seeking throughout my days to find that which encourages peace. And, of course, to eliminate those things, as much as possible, that steal my peace.

It is a start.

After all, is not Christ known as the Prince of Peace? Who better to ask for a peace-filled spirit than the very author and perfecter of peace.

Seek, and you shall find

This past week, Ann at Holy Experience challenged readers to find beauty every day ... beauty in the ordinary, beauty in the ugly, to fill every corner with reflections of God's beauty in the everyday. Some of the idea she suggested didn't work for me (filling ordinary receptacles with Nature's glory doesn't work so well when the only natural objects available belong to your landlord's tree nursery and greenhouse ... I don't think he would have appreciated me stealing flowers and leaves to fill my Mason jars!), so I set my own guidelines: every day seek to find beauty in something I would ordinarily skip by. Here are the pictures from each day:

Monday

 

Tuesday

 

Wednesday

 

Thursday--celebrating two years of Joy

I missed taking a picture on Friday--I was cleaning the house and making apple cake and otherwise preparing for my MIL to come out on Saturday to help celebrate Joy's birthday. I did, however, take the time to have a long, soul-refreshing conversation with my mother, which was as beautiful in its own way as anything I could capture on camera.

 

 

Saturday

 

Sunday

Today, I am grateful for a God who redeems the ugly, the everyday, and makes it--makes us--beautiful.

 

Now You Are Two

Two years ago, this:

One year ago, this:

 

My darling Joy, today you are two. Two years of laughter, love, and lessons. You have filled our hearts with delight from the moment you were born. Despite the colic, despite the jaundice, despite the teething, in the face of all the challenges you brought to our lives, you have opened our hearts to more love than we would have ever believed possible. A wonderful surprise from God, our firstborn who kept us in suspense as to your sex until you entered the world, you have forged your own path from the beginning.

You are strong-willed and passionate. There is no dissembling in you--whatever you are feeling, you want the world to see. You are quick to learn, quick to observe, and slow to act, waiting until you know absolutely what you are doing.

You love to chatter and to sing, to dance and move, to climb all over like the little monkey Papa calls you. You can spend hours sitting still if someone is reading to you, and you are at your happiest when surrounded by books. You play wonderful games with your stuffed animals, stack your blocks and assemble your puzzles, wrap up in your cuddly blankets like a cape and trail all over the house.

You are Mamma's helper and little chum; Papa's sweetheart; Oma's delight; the apple of Grandpa's eye; Grandma's darling. You bring light into everyone's lives, charming everyone who meets you just by being you.

My prayer for you is that you come to know and love God while you are still young, that you follow him all your days. I hope that your courage and sweetness increase, that you learn to control your will and use it for God's glory, and that you always love as fiercely as you do now.

 

(eating blueberries this morning)

We are so blessed to have had you in our lives for two years. I can't wait to see where the rest of our journey takes us!

Last year's birthday post

When she was born, before and after

(top picture taken by Jo of mymeanderings)

Out the Window

Yesterday I sat down and started to work on the sequel to my romance. I'd started running through all my mother's remedies for lifting discouragement, realized that I'd been doing all of them with little success, and then started thinking about how I've handled this near-depressed state in the past. One way is with more sleep, which simply isn't possible right now. One way, though, that is remarkably effective, is writing. Not just any writing, but writing stories. And I wrote the romance at a time when everything in my life was very grey and dreary (actually, I think it was right around this time last year, come to think of it ... I KNEW some of my mood was seasonal), and it lifted my spirits immensely.

So, for right now, I'm releasing myself from self-imposed obligations of study (don't scold, Carl--I'll come back to them!), and in my free time, I'm working on the sequel. As I mentioned, I started last night, and even after just five minutes of writing (all I was able to get in), I felt better.

This is who I am. A writer. I don't just write, I am a writer. When I spend too long away from it, I pine. And when I work too long on other projects, valuable though they might be, other than what is inspiring me right now, some of my creativity dries up.

I imagine all artists of any medium have the same problem. When you do too much "other" in your art, instead of allowing yourself to pursue that one avenue you really want (I know, I know, I'm mixing my metaphors dreadfully--how can one pursue an avenue--it doesn't move!?!), you start to lose some of your love for it. I've been trying so hard to discipline myself to do other projects, which is a good thing, but in the process lost some of my zest for writing just for the sheer love of telling the story.

And right now, I need zest in my life again.

So I'm just having fun.

(And still working on query letters and the such on the side. Because as much as I love writing just for the sheer joy of it, actually getting published wouldn't depress me, either.)

Little Miracles

Yesterday Joy and I spent an hour or so on Shutterfly, putting together some photo books for Christmas presents for the grandparents. Whenever I look at pictures of my children, I am forcibly reminded of the Psalmist's words ... "I will praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made." What miracles these little lives are! Even when I am burnt out on being a mom and just want a break, underneath it all is a deep-rooted gratitude for having been chosen to be these two girls' mother. They are such gifts.

(Oh, and Carl is home today, as I convinced him to take a sick day to recover from this cold. Yay for husbands being around--especially unexpectedly!)

 

 

 

I have even better pictures--close to 300 of them--on my SLR, but unfortunately they are trapped there until I get a laptop, since our computer is so old it doesn't have a USB port that works with such a modern camera as a Nikon D40.

Oh well. That just means it will be like Christmas when I actually do get them all uploaded!

Some Thanks

My gratitude list is thin this morning. I did manage to jot down a few things throughout the week, but between all four of us having colds, and still struggling with what I can only describe as "soul-fog," I've been having a difficult time remembering to thank him for anything. However, here is what I have:

• Promise of prayer by a dear friend
• Relief of words expressed on paper or computer
• Hot tea and comfort foods
• Encouraging phone conversation with distant friend
• Apology flowers from husband after a spat
  
• 70 degree weather on last day of October
• That our plague house is only affected by colds, not any sort of flu

OK, that last one was made up spur-of-the-moment, but it's still true.

I'm also taking Ann at Holy Experience's challenge to find beauty in unexpected places this week. She didn't set out any kind of strict guidelines for this (likely because God speaks beauty to different people in different ways), but for me, it means taking my camera and every day this week, taking one picture of something lovely I wouldn't normally notice.

Because quite frankly, I'm weary to death of this soul fog, and am looking for anything to lift it.