Black and White Wednesday: Odds and Ends

Wednesday again! I have to confess, I get quite excited when it gets to be Wednesday and I realize I get to do Black&White Wednesday again. It makes for a nice change in the middle of the week! (And I'm sure looking at converted pictures (as opposed to heathen pictures) is far more interesting to the majority of you than the tips on how to write a novel synopsis I was contemplating writing today, before I remembered that it was Wednesday.)

As I promised last week, here's a shot of Joy in the same position as last week, but with shorter hair:

She looks so cute like this I might leave it chin-length until she gets old enough to start requesting different hairstyles herself!

The shadows in this picture would have made for an awesome shot if I was reading my Bible. Alas, most of my Bible-reading is done online these days (and it's mostly Bible-listening); this was fiction. I still like the way the shadow forms a cross on the pages.

There's some controversy about the next picture. I converted it to b&w but left the eyes blue, thinking it made her gorgeous eyes stand out even more clearly. Carl took one look and called it creepy. So, I present you it in all three formats, color, all b&w, and b&w with blue eyes, and leave it up to you, gentle readers. Which do you prefer?

My vote still goes for b&w with blue eyes!

Spring Cleaning

I ache all over my body today. I feel like I do when I've spent the day skating after a year's (or more) absence. Unfortunately, I didn't do anything so fun.

However, my house is sparkling.

I started my spring cleaning on Friday, took the weekend off, and then finished it yesterday. I had set myself a goal of getting it all done by Easter, but once I started I just wanted to push and push and push and get it done all at once, instead of dragging it out even one more day. Because that's how I roll.

I did some rearranging in Joy's room, too:

"I was NOT trying to pull Sissy's quilt off her bed!"

I was so, so pleased with this section (and yes, I know the picture is crooked, I tried and tried to get it hung straight and it just wouldn't cooperate. My grandmother would be ashamed of me), I thought it looked just like a little children's corner at a bookstore. When I came upstairs an hour or so later, Joy had taken all the nice books on the top shelf off (when did she get tall enough to reach them?!) and taken the dust jackets off, crumpling some of them up and throwing them in the trash. I cried in frustration, then I scolded her, then I put all the nice books on top of the linen closet where they will stay until she's old enough. Oh well. It looked nice for a little while.

The girls were pretty good at first, Joy entertaining Gracie while I cleaned, but as the day wore on Gracie decided she'd had enough of cleaning and threw several temper/teething tantrums. Joy, thankfully, was okay once I opened up the door to the porch and let her eat her animal crackers (usually reserved for car rides and church). We were all quite happy when Papa offered to take us out to eat last night, though, and the girls (and Mamma) slept hard last night.

We are all glad spring cleaning only happens once a year.

Worked ... so ... hard ...

We're all in pretty good spirits today, though, even though it's raining. We're planning on relaxing for the rest of this week, and then enjoying the gorgeous weather they're predicting for this weekend!

Finally, just for fun:

My little artist this morning. I tape paper up and let her go at it. It keeps her from drawing on the walls themselves, and I like seeing her work whenever I'm cooking in the kitchen. She actually seems to prefer a pencil to crayons right now ... we'll see what happens as she grows older. Wouldn't bother me to have an artist in the family!

Monday, and Church Matters

I ended up buying one books of postcards (I like Monet better than Van Gogh anyway, Starry Night notwithstanding), one tin of loose-leaf tea (who knew Amazon sold tea?), and pre-ordered Patricia Wrede's latest work in paperback. Which all came to a little more than $20, but I got free shipping so I figured it balanced out. Right, Carl?

I went to church yesterday, for the first time in a long while (teething baby and sleepless nights do not make for a happy church experience). After coming home, Carl and I decided that yes, we are most definitely going to start looking for a new church after Easter. Here we go again.

The problem here is that this church's pastor announced this autumn that he had accepted the call to a different church. There were no problems, no "I'm leaving because I can't take you people anymore," just a sense that God was calling him and his family to this other church, hard though it was to leave. Christmas Eve was his last service (and also mine, now that I think back on it ... wow, Gracie has been teething for a long time), and ever since then, the church has been drifting and stagnating.

No, actually, ever since he announced he was leaving that process has been happening. It just became more pronounced after he left. They had eight weeks between when he announced his departure and when he actually left, and they did not even start putting a search committee together for a new pastor until after he was gone. Then they had to pass out surveys to everyone in the church asking what they were looking for in a new pastor (and I highly suspect the answer for everyone was: "Someone just like Pastor C."), then gather the surveys together, then compile a profile from the surveys ... I don't even know if they've started accepting applications yet. I know it's common for it to take upwards of two years to find a new pastor for the church, but the way our church is flat-lining, it's not even going to be around in two years. There's no life left, no spark, no joy. Carl and I didn't quite realize when we first started attending how much the life of the church was dependent on Pastor C and his family (K and Boy 1 and Boy 2).

We'd be willing to stick it out a bit longer except for two reasons: one, we're going to be moving in a few years, so we need a church now, not something that might come to life again just as we're leaving. Two, the pastor who is currently filling the pulpit is one of the worst preachers I've ever heard, frankly (and I've heard some bad ones over the years). Carl was certain after listening to him a couple of times that we needed to find a new church, and yesterday was enough for me to concur.

The saddest part in all this, for me, is looking at the church body we're leaving. When Pastor C and his family were here, the church appeared welcoming, warm, lively, and loving. Now that C and K and Boy 1 and Boy 2 are gone, we're seeing that much of that warmth and life were centered around them. It was C and K who watched Joy for us when I was having Gracie at the birthing center. K was the main organizer of my baby shower. They were the only ones to ever have us in their home for a meal ... on it goes.

The E Free church we attended in PA was wonderful. When I was invited to the Ladies Bible Study and demurred because I didn't have a car, they immediately came up with two or three ladies who lived in my area and could come pick me up (and Joy), and then those women either called me or talked to me after the service to ask if they could give me a ride. The second Sunday we attended we were invited to join two different small groups. When we moved, our small group came to help us pack up, and stayed until 1:00 in the morning, and the youth pastor and his wife insisted we stay with them that night so we didn't have to sleep on sleeping bags in the living room. When Carl tried to thank one of the guys for staying so long, he looked confused, and said: "That's what family does."

I know that (sadly) that church family is exceptional. I don't expect to find something like that on every street corner. But it would be nice to go into Sunday morning service and not be able to predict exactly what everyone is going to say (because it never travels beyond the superficial), to know that not having a car does not automatically exclude me from every activity that doesn't include Carl, to feel like I have a shot at making friends, and at the very least, to be able to leave church on Sunday feeling encouraged and exhorted, and hopefully to have been able to do some encouraging of my own.

Sadly, right now, none of those are options at our church, and it doesn't look like they will be for a long while, if ever. So, it's a-church hunting we will go, and we will see where God leads us.

And, in case anyone got too bummed reading all that, here's a couple of pictures to cheer you. Or at least, they always cheer me.

(We call this the "silly Aunt David" face)

(I just call this a "happy Gracie" face)

Though I am feeling a little discouraged regarding church matters this Monday, I am still thankful for God's many blessings—not least my two sweet-spirited girls, my loving husband, my wise father (newly home from New Orleans; can't wait to hear about the trip!), my clever mother, and my amazing sister who is also my best friend (next to Carl, naturally). 

And I'm thankful that this week, though it's rainy, is going to be getting warmer, and that SPRING and SUN are almost here!

Choices!

I have a little over $20. left from the money my parents gave me for my birthday, money I have strict instructions I am only allowed to spend on myself. I can't decide what to do with it, so I'm putting the matter to you, dear blog friends, for your opinions.

Should I:

1. Buy two books of postcards (Monet and Van Gogh) from Amazon to use for decoration around the house
2. Get myself a new item of clothing (I did already spend part of the money on new clothes)
3. Buy a new book (I'm not sure what I would get, though; there's nothing I've really been salivating over)
4. Buy some loose-leaf teas and/or a new teapot or cups
5. Use it on the new shoes I have to get for Ash's wedding
6. Save it for a rainy day
7. Another option I've not thought of but you may suggest

Well? Thoughts? Ideas? It's not often I get cash and am told to just spend it already Louise, and not on new clothes or books for the girls!

In other news, yes, I did write up a basic outline of a new Prydain story yesterday. It's another "after High King" tale, focused on another of Taran and Eilonwy's children. I also completed another chapter of my original work and started another, bringing my word count to 27,000. Writing will seriously slow next week, though, when I start my spring cleaning (which would be much easier to contemplate if we hadn't gotten SNOW this morning).

In other other news, I am nearly finished watching "Have His Carcase," (I watch while I sew), and I've decided I really do like Edward Petherbridge as Lord Peter, and Harriet Walter as Harriet (and oh my goodness, the actor who plays Henry Weldon is PERFECT). Petherbridge's voice is better in this one than "Strong Poison," and Walter captures that difficult blend of strength and exhaustion that is so peculiar to Harriet in this one. Our library has "Gaudy Night" as well, and I'm dying to hurry up and borrow it so I can see the conclusion of this odd love affair (though I've read the books dozens of times and know perfectly well how it ends). I only wish they had done "Busman's Honeymoon" as well!

And that's it! Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Last weekend, this. Today, snow. Ah, March.

Writing, and Sewing

The other day, I was complaining commenting to Sunrise on her blog that I have been really missing Prydain, but haven't had any kind of inspiration for fanfics.

Naturally, then, yesterday a beautiful story just unfolded in my head. Only a few problems:

1. I need Taran Wanderer for details, and my collection of the Prydain Chronicles only goes as far as The Black Cauldron. (I reward myself with each original story I complete by buying another of the series. Obviously I need to start writing more prolifically.) And I don't go back to the library until Saturday or Sunday.
2. I am 24,000 words into my current original project, and I really should not take time from that to write anything longer than a one-shot. Which this is.
3. In my few moments of spare time, when I am not taking care of littles, writing original work, doing housework, or soaking up sun on the porch, I have been working on a sewing project on my newly-cleaned sewing table, and I am coming along so beautifully with that I really don't want to take a break to do anything else.

So, logic and all dictate that I not do anything on this Prydain story for a while. But when do I ever listen to logic? By tomorrow, I will probably be on here confessing that I already started outlining and drafting.

At least I can recognize my own weaknesses!

Speaking of my new sewing space:

Isn't it pretty? It's amazing how much more inclined I am to sit down and sew, even if it's just a seam or two, when it's all right there, ready to go. Before, I had to dig my machine out from under the pile of fabric and what-not, set it up on the dining room table, unbury my scissors and thread and pins ... usually by the time I got it all together, the girls were awake and the actual act of sewing became an impossibility.

Now, I can just sit and sew. And if I don't have a sewing project currently on hand (which is something of a joke, because see those plastic bags under the table? All unfinished sewing projects. And there's more under there that didn't make it into the picture.) I can push the sewing machine to the back of the table and use the space for scrapbooking. It's also a good place to write, as I discovered last night when I went from 22,000 words to 24,000.

And yes, it is a corner of my laundry room. I don't even care. It's a little corner all for me, a Louise space that doesn't have Carl books or Joy toys or Gracie diapers (actually, it does have some of Gracie's diapers, but that's because they're cloth and currently drying on the laundry rack), a spot where I can go and do my own thing. Even if, as yesterday, I am sewing with Joy on my lap, it's still my space.

It's lovely.

(By the way, did any of you note that I have mentioned a few times now that I'm at 24,000 words in my latest book project? Since most young adult novels are between 60,000 and 75,000 words, that puts me about a third of the way into it. I am delighted. At this rate, I may be ordering The Castle of Llyr by summer!)

Black and White Wednesday: Waiting on Spring

After my big bold post about passion yesterday ... I can't think of anything remotely interesting to write on. Such is life!

Oh well. Instead, here for your viewing pleasure, are two pictures of Joy from last week:

I actually tried one version of this cropped, to just focus on her head, but I decided I actually like it better when the tree outside the window is in it too. Looking out for the promise of spring!

She has been slowly getting better about letting me get pictures of her face, but the downcast eyes and "I'm not looking at you" smile are still the most common pose. Which works for me, actually, because it's pretty darn cute.

I don't like to use labels to describe people, especially children, so I would never call Joy a "girly girl" (or a "tomboy" if that's the direction she takes later)—I wore dresses and pantaloons and played dolls and Legos and climbed trees and had swordfights with the boys and pink was my favorite color, followed closely by blue. Define that. (Hey look! I did manage to work in something about which I feel passionate—I am passionately opposed to labeling children/people, putting them in boxes, assuming that because they like one thing, they must automatically like everything related to that one thing, and dislike everything unrelated. That's just not fair to do to anyone, especially little children, who then grow up thinking they are "weird" if they have eclectic tastes.)

Anyway, though I won't use a label for Joy, she does most decidedly like skirts and dresses, so much so that when I went shopping for her spring/summer wardrobe, I got several play dresses and skirts. The dress that she's wearing in the above pictures is a hand-me-down, and I love it. It's cotton, soft, with a knee-length skirt, and she can run around and play in it, and I don't mind if she gets it dirty, but it still has that fun swirl around the legs, which I'm guessing is why she likes skirts right now.

I put Gracie in play dresses sometimes, too, but she's not as keen on them, mostly, I think, because they slow down the crawling action. This girl is in motion all the time (even when she sleeps she wiggles and squirms), and she does not like boundaries!

"What? I wasn't getting into anything! Innocent as the newborn day, I am."

(Don't let that sweet face fool you. She's always into everything.)

These pictures were taken before Joy's haircut, and looking at them now I marvel at what a difference an inch and a half of hair can make to a little girl's face. Hopefully for next week I'll have some more pictures highlighting the new bob! (And hopefully, too, eventually Gracie will have enough hair to trim!)

(I am sheepishly editing this now to say that I hope nobody got offended by my mini-rant on labels. If you do call your child a "girly girl" or a "tomboy" or however people label boys, that's your choice, and I'm certainly not going to call the anti-label police on you. It's just a personal opinion springing from having to fight labels my entire life, and from seeing people who really did grow up feeling like they always had to act a certain way because that was how they had been labeled as a child, regardless of whether it was really them.)

(See, this is why I don't do passion—I'm always worried about hurting people's feelings!)

Link Love

A while ago, I wrote a poem for Joy to go with a picture that Jo took of her feet, something to hang on her bedroom wall (at some point—right now it's displayed on our end table in the living room). I wanted to do the same thing for Gracie with one of the pictures from her photo shoot, and I had two verses written for ages now, and this morning managed to complete it. It is posted on my poetry blog, and I'd love to hear what you all think!

http://joyfulsinger.blogspot.com/2010/03/graces-tale.html

Early Morning Thoughts

My thoughts might be a little incoherent this morning. I'm still waiting on my coffee.

Last night/this morning, as I was trying to help the baby get back to sleep, I started thinking about passion. (No, I don't know why. What else is there to think about at 4:00 in the morning with a squirmy baby on your chest?)

Though I try to hide it under a protective armor of self-deprecating humor, I am a fairly passionate person. All right, a really passionate person. I don't like to show it to people, because, well, it makes you vulnerable to show your passions. And after getting mocked for my passions quite a bit throughout my life, I've decided I've had enough of being vulnerable. It's easier to talk/write about how cute Joy is with her new haircut:

Seriously, though, have you ever seen a cuter kid?

or about how Gracie is ten months old and, when not screaming in pain at 3:00 in the morning, an absolute delight:

or even to participate in themed blogging days, anything to get away from talking about what lies closest to my heart.

Besides, I've lost friends before over my passions, and I have few enough friends these days (aside from the ones who are related to me and have no choice but to love me just as I am, ha!) that I hate the thought of losing any of them.

Believe it or not, I was actually kind of nervous back during the Olympics, showing people just how enthusiastic I get over figure skating. I was really afraid people were going to make fun of me, or patronize me. And that was just sport! You can imagine how reluctant I am to ever share how I truly feel or think about deeper matters.

But looking at my sweet girls, I can't help but think of what kind of an example I am setting for them. Do I want them to grow up thinking they have to hide their hearts? To apologize for their passion? To present a bland face to the world for fear of getting mocked or hurt?

Thinking about it, that's not really the person I want to be, either. I want to live fearless, unashamed of the person God created me to be, unbridled enthusiasm, hyper laugh, deep passion and all.

It's not easy, breaking away from a character you've created for yourself. But maybe, if I take baby steps here and there, I can come back to my core. Maybe I can show my girls a mamma who isn't afraid to take risks, even knowing she might get hurt at the end. How does that line in the song go? "Better to be hated for who you are than loved for what you're not"?

It's a scary thought. And maybe once I've started getting more sleep again I'll want to take a quick backtrack, once my common sense starts functioning again. 

But for now, I'm ready to try a little uncommon sense.

And live life with passion

Recap

I didn't mean to go so many days without blogging. It's amazing what happens when you don't get any sleep. Or rather, what doesn't happen. Blog posts don't get written, housework doesn't get done, meals are decided on at the last minute ... it was a long week.

The weekend, however, was marvelous. Lis and David got here late Friday night (after we'd all gone to bed, although we might as well have stayed up since the baby decided to fuss for half the night), and then Lis and I left the girls with Carl and David and went shopping Saturday morning. It was the first time I'd been out without at least one of my babies since Thanksgiving, when I got my hair trimmed and colored. Transferring my wallet and cell phone into my tiny little purse from my diaper bag felt wickedly, delightfully, freeing.

I had some birthday money from Mom and Dad to blow (twenty-eight years old and my parents still spoil me atrociously—and I have yet to complain, oddly enough), so I got myself two new tops and a pair of leggings. I then spent more money than I probably should have on the girls (Joy really did need some spring/summer clothes, but the child-size apron from Williams Sonoma was sheer indulgence), and Lizzie bought me a coffee grinder for my birthday, so I can get whole beans and grind my own coffee now. Which is really lovely, considering some of the nasty stuff I recently learned about pre-ground coffee.

After shopping, we came home, had lunch, and then Lis and David got ready to go back to the arena for the rest of the games, while Carl, the girls, and I all went to pick Mom up from the airport. From there, Carl and Joy ran some errands while Mom, Grace and I went to Target (and got a bunch of stuff we'll have to return because it is all the wrong size), and Joann's, where we got fabric for Mom to make Joy's flower girl dress for Tia Ash and soon-to-be-Tio Matt's wedding this summer. While I still wish Ash would have asked for a simple cotton print for the flower girl dress, the white shantung is going to be lovely. And likely stained by the end of the wedding, because it is white and Joy is two and a half, but oh well, it'll go in the dress-up box afterward and give Joy and Gracie much fun until they both outgrow it.

Carl and I made pesto pizza for supper, Mom fell asleep on the couch by 8:30, we were all asleep by the time Lis and David got back around 10:00, and then Sunday we had a nice breakfast (with much coffee, because this is my family, after all), Lis and David went home, Mom cut Joy's hair and talked theology and philosophy with Carl (their way of relaxing), we had lunch, and then Mom went home too.

And then we all collapsed.

As Mom said, the only thing that would have made the weekend better would have been if Dad and Gram could have come, too. Although I'm not sure where we would have put Gram, since Mom was on the pull-out couch in the living room, and Lizzie and David on their air mattress in the dining room. I suppose we could have fit another air mattress in the kitchen for Gram ...

I will try to get some pictures of Joy's new chin-length bob to post later today or tomorrow. She was cute before, but now? Oh. My. Word.

I'll also try to post some pictures from our excursion to the park on Friday afternoon. The ground felt like a saturated sponge, and Joy cried when we left the swings, but it was great fun all the same, reminding us of better days to come with spring and summer.

How was your weekend?

Black and White Wednesday: Last May

I have found myself recently going through pictures from last spring ... mostly as a promise to myself of "look, see, it came last year, and it is coming this year, too!" It's also a nice reminder that, no matter how exhausted I am from the baby not sleeping, and no matter how stressful it is to have two children teething at the same time, I'm still better off now than I was last year at this time. I'd much rather have an almost-ten-month-old crawling around and wreaking havoc than still be pregnant!

Anyway, in the course of looking at last year's pics, I found those from Gracie's newborn photo shoot, and thought, "hey, some of these would be perfect for B&W Wednesday!" (Especially since my brain is so shot from the baby being awake most of last night that I can't think straight to do a "real" post.)

I think she looks like a little woodland fairy baby in this picture! So tiny, so sweet ...

Joy showing how utterly unimpressed she was with the proceedings. This picture makes me smile, it is so expressive of her personality!

Sweet little one-week old, snuggling. Last night she was trying to gnaw off my shoulder ... this moment is a nice memory right now.

I get picked on sometimes because of how many pictures I take, but this is why: so that one year, two years, twenty years later, I can look back and remember how it was. Live joyfully in the now, give thanks for then, and look to tomorrow with hope.

(All pictures taken by my friends Beth and Chris, and edited by me. This photo shoot was definitely a joint effort, which made it even more fun.)

Check out more Black and White Wednesday at:

http://thelongroadtochina.blogspot.com/

28 is starting great! (groan, groan, groan)

The birthday weekend is over. Sigh.

It really was lovely, though, even if the typical post-celebration melancholia hit me yesterday evening. Do you ever get that? I always do on Christmas and birthdays. When you've been building up to something for an entire year, and then it gets toward the end of that day and you realise you have to wait another entire year ... well, I always get a little blue.

So I pulled on my fuzzy robe and crawled into bed with a new Agatha Christie, and promptly fell asleep by 9:30. I'm so boring.

The birthday celebrations themselves were, as I said, lovely. We went to Panera Bread for lunch on Saturday:

where both girls were angels, and I had Panera's most delicious chicken caesar salad, which feels healthy because it is salad but is so loaded with calories from the dressing but I really don't care because—YUM.

Then we took a little drive:

out to a used bookstore I discovered online, where we spent much time browsing happily and came home with three bags of books. Joy also made my day by actually telling me she had to go potty while we were there, but unfortunately they didn't have a public restroom. I told her she could go in her diaper (is this TMI? I don't usually share this sort of stuff, but gosh, this is a huge step and I'm SO PROUD), but she actually held it until we got done there, finished at the grocery store, and came home. What a big girl!

(Speaking of bring a big girl, Mom got this coat for her last year, and it's actually a size too big, but she outgrew last year's spring coat, so we just rolled the sleeves up on this one and ohmygoodness she looks so grown-up I want to cry every time I see her in it. Another winner, Mom!)

That evening, Carl built a couch cushion tunnel and he and the girls (and me, except when I had to finally stop to go make biscuits for supper) had great delight in playing with that:

(Carl, just be thankful I decided to post this picture of you, and not the one from Panera. You know which one I mean, Mr. Chipmunk Cheeks.)

And that was Saturday. Yesterday we did nothing picture-worthy, just had a lazy, relaxing day. I watched a couple more episodes of Bones online while doing quilt stuff (and wished that the latest seasons were as good as the first), Carl studied, the girls played, I talked on the phone to various members of my family and got loads of birthday greetings on facebook (which made me rather ridiculously happy, actually) ... just a quiet day. Nice.

And then last night, as Gracie and I waited for Papa to finish putting Joy to bed and come back down for Gracie, I realised that I hadn't managed to get any pictures of me on my birthday weekend, which just seemed silly. So, to complete the weekend recap, I give you: what Louise and Grace do while waiting for bedtime:

(Hey look, we glow!)

(Ooh, we're comic book superheroes!)

(Okay, we can play nice for one last picture.)

And now, even though the birthday is over, chocolate remains, and Mother will be here briefly on Tuesday, and then back again on Saturday, and possibly Lis and Aunt David (Joy's names for them) on the weekend, and did I mention chocolate? I almost had a brownie for breakfast. But I have small children who need me to set a good example. Oh well.

Just wait 'til naptime!

Kitchen Heart

When reading about life in the older days, one idea comes out consistently: the kitchen was always the heart of the house. Even in wealthy homes, where they had a cook, and the family was ostensibly supposed to stay out of the kitchen, it was still the place where all the life was; the servants would congregate there, and the children would sneak in for treats, etc.

I like that idea. At all our old apartments, we never really had a "heart" of the home. Here, it has taken a while, but I suddenly realized this week, as I plugged my computer into a kitchen outlet and looked at the toys scattered all over the floor, that the kitchen has become the heart of this home.

Part of it is simply location. The kitchen is the first room you enter from the porch. Since it does open right onto the porch, this week when we had so much sunshine, the girls and I practically lived on the porch, and the kitchen since it was close.

Part of it is that I love to cook, and so am often out here mixing and stirring, as last night, when I baked brownies after supper, and then decided to make my sister's decadent hot fudge sauce and really spoil myself for my birthday weekend, finishing up around 8:30.

Some of it, though, is just intangible. Why do I sit out here on Sunday evening as I talk to my dad, perched on a stool at the counter with my knitting? Why do I work on my writing out here even when I don't need my computer plugged in (the kitchen has the only three-pronged outlets in the house except for the ones at Carl's computer desk)? Why am I trying to figure out if I can set up my sewing machine on the counter instead of the dining room table today?

I'm not sure. But I know that I like the idea of a house having a heart, one room that says "welcome, and stay awhile (preferably with tea)." And I'm happy that here, finally, it is the kitchen.

Jabber

Thank you all for your sweet comments and concern on my last post. Rest assured, the house of Elouise82 is illness-free right now, although Carl has started taking echinacea again as a precaution, due to losing sleep with the baby.

Joy, amazingly enough, managed to avoid all the sickness. The child has the constitution of a horse. She did not inherit that from me.

&&&

The sunshine has gone today, but instead of mourning its loss, I am trying to focus on how thankful I am to have had it for a few days. We don't always get sun like that in March, so it was a real gift. Yesterday, while both the girls were napping (another rare gift), I ironed quilt fabric out on the porch, standing in a pool of sunshine, feeling half-drunk with its warmth and glory. I feel reborn along with the spring, this year.

I started writing my to-do list for spring cleaning this year (I missed it last year due to heavy pregnancy), and am equal parts dismayed at the amount of work and excited over the fresh start it will give. I am most excited about switching out mine and the girls' wardrobes from winter to spring. Of course, Carl probably won't be so excited about that, as I have a sneaking suspicion they're both going to need some new items, as we're running low on warm-weather hand-me-downs for Joy, and most of her clothes in Gracie's size are winter, too. I, on the other hand, love the idea of getting them new clothes! I keep telling myself I'm going to pick up some knit fabric and simple patterns and make them some outfits, but in reality, that probably will not happen. I love sewing on quilts; clothing gives me a headache.

&&&

I borrowed a Lord Peter DVD from the library this past week: "Strong Poison," with Edward Petherbridge as Lord Peter himself. I'm enjoying it for the most part—it is staying very true to the book—but I just cannot make up my mine about Peter and Harriet. Are the actors right? Why don't they feel quite right? I can't put  my finger on it, except I think it is their voices. Petherbridge looks the part, and the more I watch the better I like him, but there's still just something ... off. And the same with Harriet. And Parker is all wrong. Bunter, on the other hand, is quite good, and making me realize that I've always unconsciously pictured him as more middle-aged, when in fact he really is a young man. You other Lord Peter fans out there, have you watched this version, and if so, what is your opinion?

I bought "North and South" on DVD in February, and can't wait to watch that. I have been waiting until Carl can watch it with me, but I might just have to watch it first by myself, and then again with him. I don't have the same level of affection for Margaret and Mr. Thornton as I do for Molly and Roger in "Wives and Daughters," but it is close.

I am also now the happy possessor of the new version of "Prince Caspian," which I am now hesitant to watch for fear that I will actually find more about it to dislike. Crazy, no?

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And that's it for today's episode of "random thoughts from Louise's sleep-deprived brain where is my coffee is it time for bed yet?"

Clever caption needed

Black and White Wednesday: Roses, Sunshine, and My Birthday

Just one picture today ...

When the baby and I were both sick a couple weeks ago, Carl brought me home yellow roses. He usually gets me flowers after Valentine's Day (I specifically asked him, when we were dating, to never get my flowers for Valentine's Day, and so now it has become something of a tradition for him to get me flowers sometime in the week following. Plus they're cheaper then), and he wanted to cheer me up.

They were so beautiful, and they are still gracing my mantel, though I think they are going to have to get thrown out today. They lasted amazingly well, but they're starting to look dead, and we have Bible Study tonight, so it's time to be ruthless. My birthday is this weekend anyway, so maybe (hint, hint) I'll get new flowers soon! (I love tulips in March, by the way, Carl.)

Despite the baby still! not! sleeping! ("teething" is rapidly becoming a dirty word in this house), this week has been pretty good. The girls and I have spent almost all day, every day, on the porch, revelling in the sunshine. Yesterday Joy and I watched a pair of mourning doves doing a courtship dance, before finally settling down next to each other and going to sleep in the sun (I think they were testing the area to see if it would be a good nesting spot. Kind of like humans lay down on mattresses before buying them). I named them Sam and Rosie (Lord of the Rings reference, for you non-geeks), and I sincerely hope we see more of them this spring.

Bible Study tonight, and then a quiet rest of the week, then my birthday weekend which is officially making me closer to thirty then twenty-five, yikes, and then fun, fun, fun starts happening: my mom is using our place as a stopping-off place for her flight to Kentucky next week, hopefully my sister and brother-in-law will be here for a sporting event at the same time Mom is coming back from Kentucky next weekend, and before we know it, April will be here, and full spring!

March is a great month. Everything is starting to happen. Plus, it's sugaring season. And, of course, my birthday!

Enough rambling for now. I really haven't gotten much sleep this week, so my brain is not functioning well. Plus, you know, I'm getting old.

Happy Wednesday!

The Short List

Today, my gratitude list is short: I am very thankful for my husband, who (without me asking) took the baby this morning after she woke up at 4:30 and wouldn't go back to sleep with me, and gave me a bit of a chance to rest, before we both finally gave up around 5:30.

And coffee. I'm very grateful for coffee.

And sunshine! These last few days have been gorgeous. See?

I'm also thankful for library books, and phone calls with friends (7:30 or soon thereafter tonight, Laura!), and writing time. 

Happy Monday!

Snippets

I keep trying to think of something interesting to post. Nothing has come to mind. Just scraps of disconnected thoughts.

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I wrote a poem yesterday for Gracie, and nearly cried. Then I got better. It was a nice poem.

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I have been listening to a chapter or two of the Bible online this past week. It's a wonderful way to get a daily intake of Scripture, as finding the time to sit and read something is terribly difficult, but I can listen while feeding the baby (she finds the narration fascinating, which helps her hold still long enough for me to get the spoon in her mouth—win, win!), washing dishes, preparing supper, etc. I'm listening my way through John, one of my favourite books in the entire Bible. I realised this morning that Joy is actually listening, too, as when the narrator talked about Jesus riding the donkey into Jerusalem, she promptly piped up with a "Hee-haw!" Don't know how much she's understanding, if any, but I like the fact that she's hearing the Word from a young age.

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After finishing The Sound of the Sea, I had a delightfully frothy idea for a Jane Austen crossover, set in the 1920s, featuring grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the original characters. I won't write it yet (especially since I've never done much historical research on that particular time period, though I find it fascinating), but I have all the characters envisioned and they carry on the most marvellous conversations in my head. Especially when I would like to be asleep.

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I am, right now, working on one of my original stories, and I have discovered that somewhere along the way, I have become more accustomed to typing, and can actually get my thoughts out quicker on the keyboard than I can by hand. More legibly, too, which is a good thing. My sister used to insist on addressing all my envelopes for me to my pen-pals, because she said my handwriting would make the postman go blind.

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Yesterday, the girls and I went outside a few minutes before Carl got home, since we were planning on going for a walk as soon as he was here. Joy had the biggest smile on her face playing in the dirt and half-melted snow, getting filthy and wet, and I thought again how much I am looking forward to having a real yard someday, instead of a pocket-handkerchief that takes about two steps to cover entirely. I also thought about how glad I was that I don't care if she gets filthy and wet, so long as she's having fun and not doing anything really dangerous, like playing in the middle of the parking lot. Not taking life seriously is working pretty well for me.

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My mother-in-law is coming tomorrow for the weekend, which means I ought to stop meandering about on my blog and get to work washing dishes and finishing laundry, and maybe try to get a shower in at some point today.

Have a wonderful weekend, my friends!

Black and White Wednesday: Nine Months

My Gracie turned nine months last week. Unfortunately, both she and I were sick with a nasty little bug, so I didn't get to take any pictures or do any sort of celebratory post. So I'm taking advantage of Black and White Wednesday to do some pictures today!

Nine months ago:

Nine months before that, I was on my way to this:

Taken by my extremely talented sister, who also did my hair and makeup. I am lost without her.

Now, this:

Hard to believe, but she has now been outside the womb longer than she was inside. She crawls everywhere, gets into mischief like you wouldn't believe, has the biggest smile and the biggest laugh I've ever known, still has yet to sleep through the night and nurses about 5 times a day (full 24-hour period), has two teeth on the bottom and is working on the next set, thinks her big sister is the greatest thing ever, right next to Papa and a step above Mamma, and sheds delight wherever she goes.

We are so very, very blessed!

Revelations

It's 9:00, and the girls and I are all clean and dressed and breakfasted (well, Joy is still working on her biscuit. We do breakfast pretty casually around here during the week.), and I have a load of laundry started. I love mornings like this! Of course, the reason the girls got their bath before breakfast was due to a miscommunication between Carl and me last night, leading to him thinking Joy was wearing a diaper, when she was, in fact, in her underwear ... she was pretty soggy this morning! Amazingly enough, however, her bed was dry, which makes me think that she didn't go at all during the night, even during her 3:00 am jaunt out of bed to read, but only couldn't hold it any longer when she woke up this morning. Progress!

So it all works out in the end.

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I had an epiphany of sorts last week, a result (I think), of discovering some new blogs, watching the Olympics, and Gracie turning nine months and me getting more baby hormones out of my system :) Odd combination? Well, maybe just a little.

Here it is: I have been taking life too seriously.

It doesn't look quite as impressive written down here, but seriously, I almost cried when it hit me. Watching the Olympics, I allowed all my old enthusiasm for something I love spill out and show, and I realized just how much I miss that, how much I miss being that crazy excited person who loved life and wasn't embarrassed to show it.

Then I discovered some new blogs, blogs which were not filled with worry over how their children were being raised, or what people thought, or always filled with deep, almost romantic, mystical love for their children, wrapping their whole lives around being a mother. Instead, they were irreverent (sometimes crude, which is why I'm not linking to them - it's like Monty Python; I don't mind having to turn on an automatic filter to get to the humor, but I really can't in good conscience recommend it to anyone else), fresh, honest, and so funny that I laughed until I had tears running down my cheeks. That hasn't happened in ages.

I'm not knocking the other sort of blog, but too much of that kind without anything else to balance it just gets overwhelming, and leaves me feeling discouraged, inadequate, and worried.

The hormone thing ought to be self-explanatory, but it is worth noting that I got pregnant with Gracie when Joy was ten months, so I didn't have a very long stretch then of a non-hormonal life.

There's a whole host of reasons behind why I've been taking life too seriously, from the hormones to the pressures of new motherhood, to false friends and judgmental people, to trying to figure out what it means to grow up and be a wife and mother ...

In the end, it doesn't really matter how I got to this point. What matters is the realization that I'm somewhere I don't want to be, and fast on my way to becoming someone I don't like very much.

So, off with dull care! Life is exciting, and fun, and joyous, and I'm going to start living like it once again! I have a little scar on my right knee, a souvenir from when I was about ten years old, and running through some gravel with our new cocker spaniel puppy. Gus and I got going faster and faster, until I felt like I was flying, and my feet got moving faster than my body could control, and we got all tangled up and I went down.

You know what I remember the most clearly from that day? Not the stinging pain from the gravel entering my knee. Not the cold brook water I had to stand in to wash the wound and numb the pain. Not feeling foolish for tripping over my own feet and my dog.

No, what I remember is the thrill of going so fast, of feeling so free. In the end, it was worth the injury.

Let's fly together, my friends. We may gain some scars in the process, but what of it? They will just make great stories to tell our grandchildren someday.

Saying Farewell

I just finished writing the final chapter and epilogue to "The Sound of the Sea." This is my last full-length Meg novel, though I might do a collection of vignettes looking at some of the family through the years.

I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I'm extremely proud of how quickly I wrote this; this has been the fastest of all my stories. I'm glad I got done with it before I was sick of any of the characters, as happens so often. And I'm ready to move on to other projects.

On the other hand, I'm awfully sad to say goodbye to Meg. I love her dearly, as well as Will and the rest of them, and I know I will miss them (which is why I'm keeping the door open for some short stories with them all; I just can't say goodbye for good). I started this series shortly after Carl and I got married, with "Shirley of Avonlea." It's been five years and five stories. Meg &Co have accompanied me through several moves, the ups and downs of a new marriage, two pregnancies, and the early years of child-rearing. They kept me company in those years when I didn't know anyone and had no way of making friends. They provided an outlet for a lot of emotions and thoughts that couldn't go anywhere else.

Through them, I have made actual human friends, and when I branched off from them into other areas of fanfiction, I made yet more.

These stories will never be published anywhere but the internet (or at least not as long as Sullivan holds the copyright to LMM). Some people might consider them a waste of time, five years that could have been better spent writing original works that might have a shot at publication. For a while, I thought that myself, somewhat embarrassed that I fell so deeply into this world of playing with other people's creations instead of developing my own.

But through them, my craft has developed, my writing skills improved. I have made friends. I have had a creative outlet when no other inspiration came to me.

I may be done (for now) with Meg, but I am not done with fanfiction. I'm not sure what I will work on next; I might even take a break to write a children's story that has been simmering in my mind. One thing I do know, though, and that it that I am grateful to fanfiction in general, and most especially to Shirley, Cecily, Di and Patrick, Meggie and Matty and Will, and all the rest.

They have been good friends to me.