A Seaside Gathering of Thoughts

Outside my window:  The sun is rising over the Atlantic Ocean. It's crazy to think that I am sitting on a piece of land that is at the end of the continent and I can see so far into the vastness of the ocean in front of me*. 

Listening to: My husband making breakfast. Ever since we got to the beach house, he's been a force in the kitchen. I'd forgotten how much he likes to cook. At home, I bring him breakfast in the morning and he hustles out the door. At night, he gets home long after the cooking and cleaning have been done and re-heats dinner before going to bed. Here, he's flipping pancakes every morning and helping make seafood feasts happen. It's nice to have him in the kitchen. I could really get used to his presence.

Clothing myself in: Tshirt, running shorts, running shoes. I've been walking and talking in the morning with my stepmother. So, so good let it all go, chaff and grain together...

Talking with my children about these books: Sarah brought The Complete Tales of Beatrix Potter with her. The linked volume exactly the version I have. I bought mine in the University Bookstore in Charlottesville in 1986. I remember being so thrilled to have saved a little extra money and invested it in the first book of what I knew would be a collection of good children's literature. I've promised Sarah we'll read every story while we're here..

In my own reading: I brought Lysa Terkeurst's The Best Yes and an advance copy of Rachel Macy Stafford's Hands Free Life. Rachel sent me her book in a lovely box with some thoughtful gifts and I am eager to read it and to tell you about it. I started with Rachel's book because I love her to pieces and I believe in what she urges for us. It's been kind of slow going with the book this week, though. I came to this vacation pretty depleted. Not burnout, at least not in the sense of neglect of self-care. This was more a leveling by forces outside my control. I've long believed in the messages in these books, but it was hard to read them and hold them up to reality of the way things are in my world right now and not be cynical. That's not fair to either author. So, I set them aside for awhile until I can be more receptive to the good in them. 

I want to quiet the “Yes, buts” in my head. I want to hold my hands wide open to the gift of the message in Hands Free Life. I think Lysa’s book is less likely to give rise to “Yes, buts.” Lysa is my contemporary. She’s navigated the rocks a bit. Still, my brain is so saturated that it can't hold one more self-help secret right now.

My "Yes, but" experience is not an entirely new reading phenomenon. It’s happened several times in the last year or so. I read a good book by an inspirational and motivational author who is several years younger than I am. I nod my head as I read and I agree with her, but experience whispers into the moment. I want to pull her close, to share what I’ve learned. I want to say, “Oh, dream that dream. It’s a good, good dream. But keep your eyes wide open, friend, because you can connect deeply, hold their hands all the time, and love with all your being and still, your heart might break."

Thinking and thinking: About the curious mystery of nature versus nurture. I've always been strongly in the nurture camp. There's nothing like my own little tribe of nine to teach me otherwise. It's both, definitely. Further, every family has its weak places, even its broken places. We think with enough faith and determination, we can create an unbroken story. We can't. All our stories are broken. The thing of life is to let God shine through the cracks and mend the fissures so that they are stronger and more beautiful in the broken places.

Pondering:

Psalm 51:10

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Usually, my Type A husband and his equally Type A wife approach vacations with a PLAN. A SCHEDULE. Not this time. This time, I literally tumbled into this house and dissolved into a mess of exhaustion, the kind of tired where your eyes twitch uncontrollably and even swallowing takes too much energy. Fortunately, my father and stepmother had arrived before us and they were here to catch me. Our days have been filled with rest and connection and fresh air. And that's it--though I do think there might be a trip to Duck Donuts thrown into that plan for today.

Creating By Hand:  I made some reusable kitchen cloths right before I left for the beach. When I get home, I'm going to sew lots of little aprons for the Montessori school. And I'm so excited about the assignment it makes me smile just writing about it. My friend Carmen, who is the school's director, recently went to a conference. While there, she was struck by what a difference fabric makes in the classroom. My phone was filling with lovely images and I'm really looking forward to working with her when I reach home. I love Carmen. I love Montessori. I love fabric. And I love what sewing does for my soul.

Learning lessons In: Letting go. Sometimes, in order to move forward, we have to let go of dreams and of vision. We have to see how our carefully crafted ideas of the way things should be might not be part of God's plan after all. We have to come up with new visions, ones that are colored and tempered by the experiences of life. The trick, I think, to doing this successfully, is to believe that the new vision really can be better than the old one, even if the old one was very dear, indeed. 

Encouraging learning in: I have not written a single plan. I have not ordered a single book. BUT my plans are in my head (and on the internet for that matter) and we have so many books that our house groans under the weight of them. It will be fine. They will learn. We'll find our academic cadence. This is not unschooling. It's not even relaxed homeschooling. It's the sure knowledge that the environment is ripe with learning potential and I will bring to it what is necessary when the time comes.

Keeping house: My house is a wreck. I know this, because I left it that way. It bums me out because no one likes to come home from vacation to a wreck. I really don't like to open the door to a mess. I'm consoling myself by telling myself that there's nothing like the catharsis of a deep cleaning to push the reset button.

Crafting in the kitchen: My stepmother, Mike, and I made an amazing seafood feast last night. And then, for lunch, I turned the leftovers into a pretty fabulous seafood pasta. Might have been my finest kitchen moment in months.

To be fit and happy: There's nothing quite like walking at the beach, is there? I mean, really, I could go for hours...

Giving thanks: For the people who have loved us so well this summer, the ones who have leaned in and held hands. You are the blessing and you brought the grace. 

Loving the moments: in the hammock. Oh, my, whoever thought of hammocks is such a genius. And I'm not the only one who has been in need of summer naps.

Living the Liturgy: I keep falling asleep with my rosary in my hands. I hope my guardian angel picks up the prayers where I leave off.

Planning for the week ahead: We'll finish up here at the beach and then go home to clean up the mess. Amen. 

*The reality is this post was written over three days. Completely disregard references to time;-).

Gathering my thoughts and the images that inspire them

Outside my window:  It's hot. Ridiculously hot. I left for a run early this morning and it was 72. By the time I got home, it was already 85. With the humidity, it felt like 90. Two hours later, it's even hotter. And more humid. I'm not complaining. Nope. There's not a single complaint in there. I'm just stating the facts. It's hot. And every day is a bad hair day. Fact.

Listening to: Quiet. It's a weird week of coming and going and heat. Did I mention heat? Kristin just left. She gathered up everyone under 15 to go to the nearby Air and Space Museum. The idea is for them to stay cool and maybe get a little educated and for me to get a week's worth of work finished in three hours. Because that's truly how we roll around here lately.

Clothing myself in: Shorts. Tank top. Running shoes. New running shoes. When I was in Charlottesville last week, I popped into the only running store I love and asked why they thought my Christmas running shoes were giving me blisters. She looked inside them, looked outside them and broke it to me that they were worn out. Then we looked back at my Fitbit and Runmeter stats. Those shoes have traveled the length of Italy on foot. Okay then, new shoes.

In my own reading: I read a wonderful book last week and I'll tell you all about it on needle and thREAD. Anne listed it on her "Beachy Novel" list. I'm sticky with Beachy Novels this summer. 

Pondering:

from Catholic All Year

Visit Kendra for her thoughts on this perfect pregnant mama psalm. It's her contribution to Kristin's Summer of Psalms project. Click here to see all the psalms so far. Each one has its own free downloadable art. 

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Mary Beth is away this week, at WorkCamp. Stephen and Nick will leave midweek for the regional soccer championships. Mike's gone and will return only long enough to gather the boys. I find myself really missing conversation. To have both Mary Beth and Mike gone at the same time makes me very aware of my usual patterns of casual (and thoughtful) conversing. When Kristin walks through the door in the morning, I barely say "Hello" before the onslaught of whatever new idea hasn't been given voice yet. Today, it was all about sewing projects. 

Creating By Hand:  I need some of these Sorbetto tops. Quickly. Because, you know, it's hot. 

Learning lessons In: Long distance romance;-). I mean, I already know a lot of tips about life with a traveling dad, but every season brings its new challenges. If we are so inclined, we never stop learning. 

Encouraging learning in: I'm trying to come up with a summer reading plan. My challenge is that I've never been big on incentive plans. We don't have a chore chart with rewards. I never gave anyone M&Ms or Teddy Grahams for going potty (though I did once promise a puppy as soon as Katie was potty trained and then left the poor child to six highly motivated siblings who got the job done in less than a week). I'm just not a carrot and stick kind of a mom. So... pondering this one...

Keeping house: There is no air conditioning upstairs this summer. In an effort towards frugality and solidarity with Laudato Si ;-), we're not rushing to fix it. These fans are making nighttime sleeping acceptably comfortable. One thing I've noticed, though, is that when it's hot and humid and one isn't employing central air conditioning, it is critical to wipe down and dry bathroom surfaces and to air out bedding. These are interesting lessons and I'm rather intrigued by them. Housekeeping is no doubt very different than it was just 50 years ago, isn't it?

Crafting in the kitchen: Fresh farmer's market meals. Patrick took a full class in farmer's markets and the slow food movement. For credit. He keeps dropping little whole food tidbits of information into conversations. And I keep sitting mutely, in stunned silence, wondering why in the world he thinks this is new knowledge. It's true; my children do not hear or believe half the things I say to them all their lives until some stranger tells them the same things. Click back on Thursday for some farmer's market tips and recipes. 

To be fit and happy: I'm back to long morning runs/walks. And I'm so grateful for them. I've settle into  a routine of about a half hour running, followed by 45 minutes of a brisk walk. For me, it seems like the perfect rhythm. Looks like there some science behind that. I'm also going to step on the scale once a month and only once a month. But I reserve the right to continue to obsessively try on my favorite pants until they fit again. 

Giving thanks: for cool(er) mornings and good shoes. All the pictures are from walks last week. I can't take pictures while running. I love to challenge myself to really see when I'm walking. This is my neighborhood, the places I drive by every day on my way to and from somewhere else. When I'm walking, I'm not bypassing anything; instead, I'm inhaling everything. Sometimes, I can capture that experience on the camera inside my phone.

Loving the moments: I posted the following to Facebook on Sunday, but things have a way of disappearing there and I really want to  preserve these thoughts here. So pardon the repetition if you've read them previously.

“I don’t have any pictures of my first daughter’s last recital. Not a one. But it was memorable. Let’s see... Sarah forgot half her solo, but is still super sure that she danced well. “All the parts I remembered went great, Mommy” The four girls secretly choreographed and rehearsed a quad to pay tribute to Mike’s dad. I’m told there were no dry Foss eyes in the audience. Karoline did herself in and cried with them through the last eight beats or so. Katie’s solo to Amy Grant took me back to vintage Amy and a hospital bed in 9 West 25 years ago. Who could have imagined a 7th child spinning in grace? God could, apparently. I found myself sobbing through that one. In the second show, Karoline stepped up and danced a boy’s hip hop part when he left early so that her friend Sophie wouldn’t have to dance “My Boyfriend’s Back” without boys. She decided she loved the understudy role, so when one of the big girls was injured for evening show, Kari took the stage all by herself to fill Grace’s entire solo slot, doing an improvisational dance to a song she’d never heard before. And she totally rocked it. All I could think while she made it up as she went was how grateful I am that my girls are dancing in a community where winging it and creativity and confidence are nurtured and celebrated; that leaves little room for perfectionism and unhealthy self-recrimination. It’s invaluable, really. And then there was Bee. I never promised I wouldn’t cry. And I think I cried a little pretty much every time she took the stage. And I cried when she was in the wings, whispering words of encouragement to little girls. This dance world was her world—she pulled us in. Further, she insisted on this school when the time came for her sisters to dance. Bee knew what healthy was because she’d seen unhealthy, too. She made us dancers. But ballet will always be hers. No matter what her little sisters ever do on stage, she will always be our prima ballerina. Always. Let the record show that the last time she was en pointe at recital, she danced the entire dance with a handful of safety pins in the toe of her pointe shoe. I have no idea how that happened. But somehow, those pins upended in the dance bag and in the hurry backstage to shove feet into shoes and tie ribbons in the dark, she didn’t know until she was on stage. And we would have never known had she not noticed me crying and whispered into the wings, “There are pins in my shoes.” Waterworks turned off. I spent the rest of the dance wondering where the pins were and why she dared to break my “sew everything—no pins allowed” rule and then tell me about it while she was dancing! Mary Beth led the girls in this family to the stage—insisted on it, really— and she nurtured a love that is deep and true. We are grateful, so grateful, for the gift of dance and, way more grateful, for the gift of Bee.”

You'll hear a bit more about that improv tomorrow.

Living the Liturgy: I read this post (several times, actually) nodding all the while I was reading. And all I could think was that St. Therese so perfectly captured these thoughts. Further, I think living liturgy keeps self-aggrandizement in check. When the year is framed by the life of Christ, each season brings into our awareness who and where He was when He walked the earth. When each day is punctuated by the Hours that call us back to His Word and into His presence, we are much less likely to fall into the illusion that (a) it's even a little about us or (b) that He needs social media or huge conferences or best-selling books to make Himself known. He doesn't. In every age, He is known. In our age, with wisdom and discretion, those "grand audience" things can be useful tools, but He doesn't "need" them. He doesn't "need" anything. We need. We need to tune our hearts to His voice and to remember: 

“Love is well-known and easily identified, it needs no stage and no bestseller status. God is famous in the family dinners and protest marches, in the re-reading of a favourite book to small children and in Wednesday night Bible studies open to the public, in the prayers of the unknown and the faith of the uncelebrated.

I wonder if fame is more a construct of our celebrity-obsession, but God isn’t the new celebrity to brand and make palatable for the masses – there is too much complexity and wildness for God; God won’t obey the spreadsheets.

It’s resurrection, resurrection, resurrection. Bringing the dead things to life, life into dry bones, beauty from ashes, sorrow to joy, day after day, choice after choice, step after step towards glory.
”

--From Famous

Planning for the week ahead: The week will be spent packing and unpacking children as they set forth on grand adventures. It will be spent welcoming home  weary husband and sending him off again. it will be spent snuggling extra long with a certain six-year-old who loves rhythm in her life and is more than a little rattled when people keep coming and going.

Gathering my thoughts: Is social media becoming like cable TV?

Outside my window:  Clouds are gathering. It's blisteringly hot out there, so I'm grateful for the hope of rain. Last summer was so lovely--light and cool--that I very nearly declared myself a fan of summer. Very nearly. This summer is heavy, humid, and hot. I am seizing those early dawn hours for all they're worth. 

Listening to: coffee shop noises. 

Clothing myself in: An arm party. I tired of my basic black Fitbit band and bought a couple of these. Then, I discovered that they don't hold quite as well as the authentic Fitbit ones do. So, I looped a bracelet with a clasp through the holes in order to give myself a back-up should the band clasp pop open. Then I thought that looked a little odd, so I added a leather bracelet. Then I wanted to tie the colors together so I added a cheap bangle I picked up at LouLou in Charlottesville while shopping for Easter treasures. And now: arm party. It's a little much for a Monday morning. 

Talking with my children about these books:  It is an extraordinarily beautiful, wonderful thing to witness my littlest thoroughly immerse herself in the world of Laura Ingalls Wilder. We have all these gorgeous picture books. Nick used to insist on no fewer than five every night before bed--for probably a year. He knew them all by heart and so did I. We've all listened to the audio versions of all the books multiple times over the years. And everyone in the house has curled up with Laura all to him or herself for at least a season. 

But Laura and me? Well, let's just say that sometimes I think Laura saved my life. I think those books in my own childhood were a kind of anchor, a window on a time that was simpler, if not kinder and gentler. Laura clarified for me the way families work, ideally. She opened up for  me a world that was safe even when it was scary. She was my role model, my sister, my best friend. I'm so not overstating all of this. I even named a baby for her and when living life with that baby wasn't to be, I thought myself ever so clever when the next baby was named for Ma, Pa, and the Pope, all in one. (And oh, how she has lived that name well!)

So, as Sarah plays with Little House paper dolls in the comfort of a suburban sunroom on a ridiculously hot June day, her Mama loses herself again in the world of Laura, this time with a much anticipated Annotated Autobiography. Dear old friend! How grateful I am to bump into you again after all these years. How happy to know that in my middle age, you come along beside me and we pick up where we left off. You are still teaching me, still pointing me in the right direction.

Thinking and thinking: Do you think that social media is beginning to feel a lot like Cable TV? As I scroll through Facebook or Twitter, the headlines from posted links are nearly always a bit sensational. They play upon our impulses to want to know more, to want to be the first to have and share information, and to be entertained. Then, there are just the "regular people" status updates. They are a lot like edited "reality" TV shows, I think, showing parts and portions of ordinary life made a little extraordinary in the framing. What I've noticed most though is my reaction to it all.

Seven or so years ago, before the current president was elected the first time, I discovered talk radio. Prior to that time, all my drive time in the afternoon rush hours was spent listening to children's CDs and audiobooks. For some reason, late that summer, I started listening to the pundits. They fairly screeched worrisome news and they played the same distressing soundbites over and over. And the banter. It was the banter that really got to me. Back and forth, snark level rising all the while. it seemed like the whole point was to entertain with arguing. No longer was it about information.  At home, out of the car and away from the radio, I found myself bantering, even if just in my head. The manner of being carried over, just as a style of speaking invades my workaday world when I listen to a good book. Only this one got "booster shots" on a daily basis. One evening about a month after I'd begun my daily foray into the world of politics on radio, I found myself extraordinarily distressed. I've always loved politics, been a bit of a newshound, and engaged in DC life in real life. (I was even a Capitol Hill intern, before calling oneself that made people snicker.) I couldn't figure out why I was troubled when talk radio entered my previously serene driving time. My husband nailed it. "I think," he said, "you're way too sensitive for talk radio these days." And he was right. Later that fall, I would find myself on complete bed rest and I would be introduced, for the first time, to cable TV (news and reality shows). For me, a very bad idea. Too sensitive for that, too. So, I watched hours of cooking shows for weeks before my baby was born ,because the news shows made my heart rate doing alarming things. 

That brings me to social media. Here's what I see: It's like news and reality shows mixed together in one long 24/7 airing of the worst of us. Every once in awhile, there's a nugget of good there and that keeps us coming back, ever hopeful for the good nugget. Mostly, though, it's bad. And we banter! It seems like every other person (at least) really just wants to fill time with an argument. I can post a picture of clear summer sky and say, "Oh how blue the canvas is today" and someone will come along and tell me, "You know, it's not really blue. Scientifically speaking...." What the heck? Do we really need to quibble every little thing? Is that just the nature of some people and those are the loudest voices? And then, I click it closed, and the whole quibbling, snarky thing follows me around in my head.

Sadly, in the last year, social media has become increasingly divisive where the Church is concerned, too. I'm not ready to throw out the baby with the bath water, but I am becoming very aware that social media takes meticulous, thoughtful curating to keep it from being the near (or immediate) occasion of sin. We cannot be casual users of the Internet, not at all.

Pondering:

““I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles.” ”

— ~Audrey Hepburn

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Are you a Sunday planner or a Monday planner? I think most systems assume a chunk of time on a Sunday to plot and plan for the week ahead, making to-do lists and meal plans and double-checking appointments. That doesn't seem to work too well for me. I've decided (and accepted) that I am a Monday planner. These daybooks are part of my Monday framing for the week and so is a settled session with my paper planner first thing Monday morning. That means, of course, that if something comes along in the planning that takes significant time or attention, I could be in trouble when all my people awaken and expect Monday to happen in person and on time. I need to be good to go when they are. Still, it's worth popping out of bed early. I think more clearly on a Monday morning than I do late Sunday afternoon. But that means these daybooks will continue to go up on Tuesdays instead of Monday, because really, I can't write them until my Monday writing time. Works for me..

Creating By Hand:  Kristin is out of town this week. If I'm going to sew, it's going to happen without her. Also, Sarah Annie has told us all we can no longer refer to room with all the windows off the kitchen where her art supplies and many toys, books, and manipulatives are stored as "the sunroom." Henceforth, we are to call it "Sarah's Studio." And she might have been heavily influenced by Pinterest when describing her vision for the room. Whatever it takes to get her to clean up the mess...

Learning Lessons In: Marriage. This has been a challenging season. We are spending nearly as much time apart as we did the year we were engaged and living in different towns. It's ridiculous, really, what life keeps throwing at us. Just when we think we have all the details worked out, something changes; something switches things up. We are learning to lean in together. To figure it out together. To stop fighting the waves and to instead to ride them out. Together. Even long distance. These are advanced marriage skills, for sure. 

Encouraging learning in: Still focusing on the basics this summer. I was invited to try out K5 Learning. We're just getting settled and looking at the results from assessments, so I'm not sure what to tell you about it yet, but I'm hopeful.

Keeping house: I have committed to a date and time for a graduation party. Let the house and yard prep begin. Oh! And yesterday, when we went together to Home Depot to by new filters for the air conditioner, my husband actually told the sales guy that our house is "practically immaculate." It is absolutely is not, but for that one brief, shining moment, I reveled in the idea that he even thought he could say that;-).

Crafting in the kitchen: After a long hiatus, I've found my cooking mojo again. I am not a natural paleo cook. I don't think bacon is a food group and I kind of gag when meat is on the menu again. So, I'm back to this kind of cooking and the plates are pretty and creative and beautiful and tasty and healthy. Let's just say this morning there was spinach in my husband's coffee and he was happy to have it. That's some serious winning, there, folks. 

To be fit and happy: I've repurposed one of those several Fitbits I bought last summer and made it my own. (I shall not divulge whose it was previously.) I started back at Day 1 of Couch-to-5K and I downloaded a great new novel to listen to for 11+ hours. I already don't want that book to end. It worked. I'm motivated to get up and out of bed every morning. I'm listening again and I'm reveling in the morning peace. And I'm running. This time, I know better where this is all going. I need to run. It really does help keep me sane. But I also need to remember that too much of a good thing isn't a good thing for me. Ever. 

Giving thanks: Mike and I were talking recently about how the decision to stay in northern Virginia when we first got married has played out over the last 28 years. We stayed here because family was here. Neither of us really are typical "NoVa types." Mike travels a lot and he knows lots of places he can see himself liking better than we like here. I travel a lot, but mostly only to one place. And I know that there suits me better than any place else in the world. We talked about how we made the decision to stay in northern Virginia because of our extended family. Then, in a poetic God move, Patrick made the decision to go to Charlottesville for the same reason. And God has smoothed all the bumpy seams out in a pretty tapestry of here and there. Both decisions--the one made 28 years ago and the one made 3 years ago--have impacted the lives of far more people than ones who made the choice. It's kind of awe-inspiring--and definitely gratitude inspiring-- to see how it's all worked together for the good.

Loving the moments: when I stop and notice the people blessing the lives of my teens and twenties. Good, good people. I'm praying so hard for all of them. 

Living the Liturgy: I'm glad to be writing Lord, Hear Our Prayer again. Kristin nudged me that way. Now, it's my favorite writing session of the week. 

Have you seen this week's Summer of the Psalms free printable? It's over at House Unseen. It's gorgeous and Dweeja's very brief reflection brought tears to my eyes. You just know she gets it.. So, my meditation for the week is this:

Print it and frame it or make a screensaver or wallpaper of it. You can see Cari's pick right here and  mine is here. Visit Kristin each week to see the whole collection posted at Vine of Plenty. 

Planning for the week ahead: This week is going to challenge us, for sure. Rehearsals and recitals, homecomings and leave-takings, graduation parties and final performances. 

Oh.

Final performances. I've staunchly not allowed my mind to go there, to contemplate even for a moment that Mary Beth will dance her last recital this weekend. I've not let myself turn over in my head the whole idea that never again will all four of my daughters be in the same show. Not let myself dwell on how magical it has been for her to be both student and teacher at the same studio. Nope. Not going there. 

Dang. Nothing like crying in Starbucks.

Gathering my Thoughts

Outside my window: The air conditioner in the car sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. And, sometimes, that's a real drag. But other times, we all learn how heavy the honeysuckle scent is in the air every evening in late May and early June. And if by chance, we're driving just after those frequent thunderstorms? Downright intoxicating.

Listening to: barista noises and jazz.

Clothing myself in: This new nail polish. I've never been much into nail polish, but since I can't get the scale to budge, I figured I'd let my nails grow. Nail polish is pretty toxic stuff, but this, maybe not so much?

Talking with my children about these books:  Sarah has this pile in a basket by her bed this week. We're making sure we get in our Three Books at Bedtime. She's definitely super interested in all things science right now and since we're all about planting these days, we're spending the next couple of weeks reading about flowers and gardens. So, this week, it's a flower theme:

Miss Rumphius

Sunflower Sal (Prairie Paperback Books)

Dancers in the Garden

Camille and the Sunflowers

Jack's Garden

Planting a Rainbow

Waiting for Wings

Sunflower House

Where Butterflies Grow (Picture Puffins)

The Reason for a Flower: A Book About Flowers

In my own reading: friend of mine sent me Anatomy of a Soul. I promised I'd read it. I'll get back to you on this one.

Thinking: Has social media become more unfriendly, or is it just me? Last week, it felt like every time I turned around someone wanted to argue. At one point, on Twitter (where it's ridiculously easy to be misunderstood), I protested that I didn't want to argue. She responded with, "If you don't want to argue, then don't engage." OK, then.

I don't want to argue. I really, really don't. I am so not the arguing type, even in person. I do not like conflict. Not one bit. 

Also, I find that when things like this happen online, I'm pretty good at clicking my computer closed and walking away, but then they must live in my brain because I find myself snapping at the real life people around me who have no idea why I'm cranky. Not a good thing.

Pondering: Psalm 52, Go visit Cari and see what a beautiful, free printable Kristin has made so that we can all spend the summer in the psalms. Really. Free. For you! It's gorgeous.

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: The New Summer Schedule had a rocky start, but I sat everyone down on Thursday and really explained all the reasons it absolutely has to work. They were receptive. And I think it is honestly going to be a very good thing. We'll see how well we do when it's challenged by summer's comings and goings, but I'm very optimistic. 

Creating By Hand:  Finished the first sundress! Hooray! This week, I'm going to work on a belated birthday gift and do one more dress for Sarah before moving on to some long-awaited quilts. Oh, and this arrived Saturday. So, I might have to make it into something for me before the weekend.

Learning lessons In: Reaching out, creating community, both online and in person. 

Encouraging learning in: Spelling. I have a child who is old enough to be spelling well, but still is not. We are spending the summer working through as much of this program as we can. I have the old-fashioned, black and white version of this program. So far, my student is very receptive and, I think the word is "grateful." I think what we all want is for someone to notice our struggle and come alongside and sit awhile to help make the load lighter. When I linked for you, I looked briefly at the DVD version. I think I'll pass. As much as spelling is the issue, time with me is, too. So, side-by -side you'll find us, at 9AM Monday through Friday, for as long as it takes.

Keeping house: Every day, I list the chores that need attention that day. This is a definite change from the previous chore schedule type arrangement. So far, I think it's effective. 

Crafting in the kitchen: OK, so my lofty Whole 30 plans have been amended. I just can't eat that much animal protein. Just can't. I'm tweaking and revisiting Joel Fuhrman and reading the vegetarian section in Whole 30, because, in the end, it's about listening to one's body. My body tells me things on no uncertain terms. But it's exceptionally whiny;-). I try to listen, obey, and not whine back. 

To be fit and happy: Still no Fitbit. But, I'm working on reclaiming that morning habit. I want to get back to this place, because I know it's what I need to do. The more I move, the better. Just pushing past the inertia for now...

Giving thanks: For a really encouraging phone call with a new friend last week. I'm feeling like I can make some things happen in this space now. That's a new feeling that I kind of like a lot. 

Loving the moments: I didn't really love this moment. Actually, I kind of cried through it. But I know that when I look back on it, I will see that a legacy of love was at work. When you're the goalkeeper, there are times when you're the hero. And then there are other times. The memory of this year's State Cup final will hurt Nick for a very long time. When the game was over and he had to stand to get the runner-up medal and then to applaud the victors (who might have been taunting him), his siblings pressed into the spaces around him. Sometimes a strong arm around you steadies you in the moment when your own knees go weak at the shock and horror of a very bad 14-year-old day.  When the memory of this loss breaks his heart again in the years to come, I hope Nick will remember that he wasn't alone and there was an arm firmly around his shoulders. 

Living the Liturgy: So, I think you like the reprise of Lord, Hear Our Prayer. Yay! You keep praying my summer schedule works and I'll keep those coming every Saturday morning, so you have them for your weekend intentions. Deal?

Planning for the week ahead: More steady, ordinary days. The spring was brutal. These few weeks of every day being pretty much the same before we launch into summer comings and goings? They are just magical.

All photos kindness of Kristin Foss

Gathering my thoughts on the cusp of summer

Outside my window:  Virginia is in full bloom. And it is utterly breathtaking.

Listening to: the sounds of the orthodontist’s office on a very crowded morning. Wow. A lot of people here. Let’s see how well I can filter out the competing noises.

Clothing myself in: White shirt. Bright blue (borrowed) capris. I have a lot of white shirts. Actually, almost all my shirts are white. I love them. However. Big sigh. I have nearly nothing to wear. I stopped running regularly around mid-March. Then there was some sort of thyroid storm. The combination was lethal. As in none of my clothes fit. For me, this is a hard reality. I’m super sensitive about body image. Back out to run. Early and often. When no one’s watching, because it's not going to be pretty.

Talking with my children about these books:  I’m kind of holding my breath. Nick has moments to go before he’s depleted all the Percy Jackson stories. And I know there will be mourning. I think back to the books that have become beloved for my kids. Michael loved Redwall—all of them. Both of those series are amazing audio books. Redwall is read by the author who wrote it originally for his radio show. Christian loved Harry Potter. Patrick is still waiting to fall in love with a book and is still a reluctant reader. But we know that once upon a time, Anne made an impact on him. Mary Beth first fell in love with The Penderwicks. Stephen’s favorite series was also Harry Potter. The Harry Potter fan club is curious considering Michael's adamant opposition to it. Katie would rather listen to Adventures in Odyssey than read. Karoline is a Shakespeare fan. It’s hilarious to hear an 8-year-old drop the Bard into everyday conversations. (She has some of these books memorized. I'm surprised to see they're only available from third-party sellers. Snatch them up; you won't be sorry!). 

In my own reading: Every year, when I go to the garden store near our house, I take these books off the shelves. They are nestled next to books about  herbs (that's a really good one). Tom DeBaggio founded this store. When my big kids were little, he’d come out and chat with them while I browsed the lavender plants. He’d teach them a thing or two about plants (or about airplanes, depending on the day and what struck his fancy). He was always very kind. His son is rather brusque with the kids, but Tom never was. Those were the early days of his journey with Alzheimers. Without fail, each spring, I pick up his books, which are memoirs of his time with the disease. And then I put them back. I like remembering him my way. The other reality is not so pretty. This year, though, I picked up a book, put it back, and then went back later and picked it up again. Kristin noticed the second time.

            “I have that book,” she said. “I own it.”

I guess this is the year that I will read it. 

Thinking and thinking: Last week, after I posted these pictures, Jen asked on Facebook, "Do you have so much fun with your life? I mean, I'm sure it's not always great, but you must wake up sometimes and be like, "I love my life". So much love and joy!"

To which I replied, "There are times when I do, but in all honesty they are often embedded in times of just plain hard. These pictures are fun and the night *was* fun, but some things to remember: I was coming off some extreme logistical (and emotional) nightmares (for about 8 weeks). I spent the day in the ER with Katie and it wasn't fun at all. These pictures were taken in the middle of the night. I stayed up until 4:30 and got up again at 6:30. The day that followed this night was yuck. Also, my husband was home for this night. He was not home the week before it or the week after it...My point is that it is fun and I do love this life, but it's not all moonlight and movies;-). Another thing that comes to mind here is that I don't often blog when things are hard. (Notice how little I've blogged in recent months?) I tend to put my head down and focus on the task at hand. I like to blog. It's a great creative outlet, but I haven't had a whole lot of time for fun creative outlets. The hard things get blogged much less frequently because if things are hard, then they take my full time and attention and tapping away at the keyboard isn't a priority.

It’s kind of a vicious cycle. I’m happier when I write, but I don’t write when I’m unhappy. Chicken or egg? Whichever it is, I'm going to try to break the cycle this summer. I need to find a way to write every day, much like I need to run or walk every day. I've learned the hard way (again) what happens when I don't.

Pondering: In matters that are obscure and far beyond our vision, even in such as we may find treated in Holy Scripture, different Interpretations are sometimes possible without prejudice to the faith we have received. In such a case, we should not rush in headlong and so firmly take our stand on one side that, if further progress in the search of truth justly undermines this position, we too fall with it. That would be to battle not for the teaching of Holy Scripture but for our own, wishing its teaching to conform to ours, whereas we ought to wish ours to conform to that of Sacred Scripture. -St. Augustine

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: The new summer schedule was to begin today. I was going to get up and run at 5:30. Be back and showered by 7. Then something domestic until 8. Then kids up and breakfast. School kinds of things until 11:00. Then Mom ducks out to get some work done for a couple hours (also known as writing therapy). Then summer fun. Sounds like a good plan to me.

Today was the first day. Kari woke up at 4:30--totally awake and wanting to chat. About life. So, we had about 5 quality hours of one-on-one time. I’m not kidding. I dragged everyone else out of bed at 9:30. We were late to the orthodontist at 10. Le sigh.

Creating By Hand:  Those afternoon summer fun hours? I’m calling them “swim and sew.” And it’s totally going to happen.

Learning lessons In: Apology. I’ve decided that one of the most important things we can teach our children is how to sincerely examine one’s conscience and then to apologize honestly and promptly. I am very serious about how much I think this matters. This article is a good one on the topic, though I think it’s message is not at all limited to marriage, and certainly not limited to men. All relationships would benefit tremendously if we become a community of humility.

Encouraging learning in: Math. We’re going to hyperfocus on math this summer. This and this and this and these. Oh, and Karoline has announced her plans to write and entire Bible story book.

Keeping house: In late March or maybe it was early April I registered for The Nester’s Cozy Minimalist course. Around the second week, I found myself reluctantly begging to withdraw. Life was kicking my butt and I couldn‘t even begin to keep up. Further, it’s hard to take a class in homemaking when you’re not there. I was gone so much of April.  So, to console myself, I’m going to really dig into The Nesting Place and Love the Home You Have this summer. I’m pretty happy with my house (well except for my perennial basement issues) but, I think it will be nice to use that part of my brain a bit as I consider how to nurture myself. I’m super sensitive to environment. Home needs to be a sanctuary. I think I’ll enjoy considering how to make it so.

Crafting in the kitchen: Whole 30. I was one of the first people to review It Starts with Food on Amazon. And I wrote:

One quote that keeps popping up is "this is not hard compared to birthing a baby, quitting heroin, or beating cancer." Actually, it is. I haven't got any experience with heroin, but I had 7 unmedicated births, 2 c-sections, and I beat cancer. Those things are hard, too but that doesn't make this easy. This is hard. It's hard to eat this way in a world that doesn't. It's hard to cook for a big family -- either all eating this way, or them eating this way and me not eating what they're eating. It's hard to stick with it day in and day out. It's not too terribly hard for a few weeks, but it is hard as a lifestyle. I feel anti-social. I know my eating habits put a damper on others' enjoyment when our eating out choices are dictated by my "can'ts." I know I've offended more than one gracious hostess with my polite, "No thank you." And I do miss crafting a perfect loaf of artisan bread or making my grandmother's homemade pasta. I miss tomatoes fresh from the garden with olive oil and fresh mozzarella. I miss handing on food traditions of generations to my own children. I couldn't care less about sugar and I'm not lamenting processed foods at all. They were never in my diet. I'm struggling with the limited choices of real food left for me...I still think this is a valuable resource, but for most folks, longterm success with eating this way is going to take more than, "You can do it. It's not as hard as childbirth or cancer."

They addressed those things in the new book! I think that’s pretty cool. Actually, I think that's really cool. They‘ve also included white potatoes in the plan this time. For me, that’s not good. I love potatoes, but they don’t love me. So, I think I’ll just keep kicking it old school. I like this new book a lot. I thought it would be redundant and it’s not.  Instead, I think it’s more measured, more practical, maybe just a little more compassionate. It’s good. Back on the wagon. I’ll never be a giant meat eater. But I know that the principles in Whole 30 are likely the most anti-inflammatory way to eat. So, I’m not a bacon and duck fat paleo person (actually, there’s no bacon in the new book), but I am fill-the-plate-with-veggies, skip the sugar and grains, eat real food person. I need to be a no dairy person. And I’d probably be a good deal happier if I could kick this stupid coffee habit again.

To be fit and happy: lacing up and heading out. My Fitbit wasn’t working; I couldn’t get it to record my steps. Then I lost it.  Then my Fitbit friends applauded me for getting back after it. That was hilarious, because I wasn’t wearing a Fitbit. They saw my step count increase, but I still have no idea where it is. Somebody is getting some exercise on my behalf, but I don’t think it’s actually overcoming my inertia. I need to solve this problem, because I’ve discovered that I really am motivated by my Fitbit .

Giving thanks: For the intercession of wee saint Bryce. It’s his birthday today. He would have been six. Say a prayer for his mama?

Loving the moments: when my backyard is full of teenagers gathered around a bonfire, philosophizing late into the night. Pretty magical childhood.

Living the Liturgy: I’m praying Divine Office on my morning run. Also, I’m also listening to this new album. She Reads Truth is taking this week to look at five hymns. Yesterday’s post really hit home for me. So good. And so is the album.

Planning for the week ahead: Nick Foss plays in the State Cup semi-final this weekend. Some of you might remember the agonizing decision I made to move him to new team---just after he won State Cup two years ago. (That's a favorite post of mine.) It’s been a hard couple of years for him, no lie. He misses his friends. It’s been hard to watch that team win more than his present team. And it’s been super hard to be the new kid (for two years). But he’s just on the cusp of something good. Pray this weekend is one of victories? One on Saturday and then—big miracle needed warning—one on Sunday, too? That would be good. Really good.

All photos courtesy of Kristin Foss.