What an odd new stage. I am awake early and my kids are still asleep. Off and on this last month, I have had great times of waking up before the sunrise. Thinking of that great passage in Isaiah 50 that talks about God awakening me morning by morning to teach me things, I have loved stealing away to sit quietly on my couch, watch the sunrise, enjoy the early morning birds, and to spend uninterrupted time with God. What cool times, and it is only when God wakes me up, since normally I love to sleep. Thanks, Abba/Daddy.
Now, Mark has come and gone to worship practice, the sun is long up, the birds are still chirping, yet my kids remain asleep. How strange.
Cool morning breezes pass between my window and my open deck. The priest who lives across the driveway was up enjoying the sunrise this morning too. He was out on his deck with his Bible or notes for this morning's sermon on his lap. The sun quietly climbed the sky, spilling more amber light across the whispering trees. The birds sang louder. I sighed contentedly, smiled and went back to my reading.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Beef Jerky and Jungle Garden
Spicy terryaki beef jerky on my lips...
Using the dehydrator, and his own special marinade, my husband works for several days to marinate, and then dehydrate the strips of sliced beef that he has bought. The house smells strongly then of terryaki and spices. The wash cloths and counters are often dangerous with raw meat juices for a little bit, as he is an exuberant cook. But he smiles and tries to appease my salmonella paranoia by taking precautions: washing counters with hot soapy water, quarantining his cloths and towels, etc. One morning I leave a note for my teen son and his friend who slept over. "Watch out! Don't put your bagels on the counter here to butter them. Juices may have oozed out over the night from the dehydrator!"
But, wow, several days later, and a rapidly-depleting bag of beef jerky later, I have to boast that my husband makes good beef jerky! It is a favorite snack for most of us in the family, and it goes fast. We ration it out to make it last longer. I sometimes selfishly don't keep to the ration that I recommend to the kids. How bad is that? My man smiles though, glad that I like his beef jerky.
We tackled the garden jungle today. The three weeks' worth of weeds was daunting at first. Indeed we had put off going to the garden for a week or so, knowing we needed to, but afraid of what we would see. So, we had played in the Y pool for six hours one day, and hung out with friends another day. This morning, though, we knew that it was time. Two hours later, and covered in sweat and brown dirt, we were exhilarated at our progress. Popping radishes in our mouth, or a fresh rare strawberry, or some handfuls of chives and lettuce make it all worthwhile too.
What are some of your favorite things of the summer? I like the laidback pace of life, gardening, time with friends and family, and relaxing around the Y pool in the hot sunshine.
Using the dehydrator, and his own special marinade, my husband works for several days to marinate, and then dehydrate the strips of sliced beef that he has bought. The house smells strongly then of terryaki and spices. The wash cloths and counters are often dangerous with raw meat juices for a little bit, as he is an exuberant cook. But he smiles and tries to appease my salmonella paranoia by taking precautions: washing counters with hot soapy water, quarantining his cloths and towels, etc. One morning I leave a note for my teen son and his friend who slept over. "Watch out! Don't put your bagels on the counter here to butter them. Juices may have oozed out over the night from the dehydrator!"
But, wow, several days later, and a rapidly-depleting bag of beef jerky later, I have to boast that my husband makes good beef jerky! It is a favorite snack for most of us in the family, and it goes fast. We ration it out to make it last longer. I sometimes selfishly don't keep to the ration that I recommend to the kids. How bad is that? My man smiles though, glad that I like his beef jerky.
We tackled the garden jungle today. The three weeks' worth of weeds was daunting at first. Indeed we had put off going to the garden for a week or so, knowing we needed to, but afraid of what we would see. So, we had played in the Y pool for six hours one day, and hung out with friends another day. This morning, though, we knew that it was time. Two hours later, and covered in sweat and brown dirt, we were exhilarated at our progress. Popping radishes in our mouth, or a fresh rare strawberry, or some handfuls of chives and lettuce make it all worthwhile too.
What are some of your favorite things of the summer? I like the laidback pace of life, gardening, time with friends and family, and relaxing around the Y pool in the hot sunshine.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Pregnancy Progression
These are photos showing the progression of my tummy. (Drat, stinking program. I can't get the photos in the correct order.)
The first one is me at four months. I'm wearing the green shirt, and a yellow African wrap-around skirt, facing left.
The second photo, in the blue shirt and maroon skirt, is me at six months.
The third photo is me at seven months pregnant, and I'm standing next to my brother!
Lastly, in the brown shirt, is me at eight months pregnant.
The first one is me at four months. I'm wearing the green shirt, and a yellow African wrap-around skirt, facing left.
The second photo, in the blue shirt and maroon skirt, is me at six months.
The third photo is me at seven months pregnant, and I'm standing next to my brother!
Lastly, in the brown shirt, is me at eight months pregnant.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Community at City Greyhound Bus Station
This morning I headed down to one of the City's Greyhound bus stations. My uncle with some special needs was transferring buses here on his way further south. I was to meet him at the 10:15 am arrival and then make sure he got on the correct 11 am departure bus. I arrived a little early and was immediately reminded of the neat sense of community that seems to develop among waiting people at a city bus station. As I walked into the small waiting room, an African-American toddler was playing with one of the payphones, banging the receiver and pushing buttons. "No calling 9-1-1, though, right?" cautioned the Greyhound employee, leaning over from his high counter to peer down at the long haired little girl. "That happens," he assured me, "and then we have the police here." He laughed and shook his head. The child's mother came out from the bathroom then, carrying an infant in pink clothes, and fuzzy curly black hair. She scolded her toddler a little bit, and then--setting the infant car seat down on the black metal chair across from me--she asked if I would watch her kids while she went into the bathroom again. Slightly cautious about that, but wanting to help, I said sure.
Eating my vanilla yogurt, navy-clad pregnant woman that I was, I sat there quietly, watching the baby in the infant carseat, watching the long fluffy-haired toddler banging the phone receiver again. Another spoonful of yogurt, more silence. The Greyhound man came back in the room to see me with two kids, and no mom. I ate another bite of yogurt, glancing at each child. It would be odd if the mom didn't come back, or something. What would I do? Another bite of yogurt, and the toddler is now trying to climb up the phone cord. "Um, careful, sweetie," I say to the child. "No hanging." Hmm, I wonder, if the phone breaks, am I responsible?
Just then the young slender mom comes out of the bathroom, and smiles at me. All is good. I finish my yogurt and take a turn in the bathroom too. When I come out the mom is trying to get the toddler occupied with some music, and the tiny curly haired infant is fussing in her chair, a bottle of formula propped up on her tummy. "Would she let me hold her?" I ask the young mom, pointing at her youngest. Soon I was cradling a tiny five week old little girl, feeding her her bottle, and trying to burp her. I spent the next 45 minutes holding her, and talking to various people in the lobby. "And how old is your other little girl?" I asked, looking at the cute active toddler, with long voluminous hair in a pony tail. "He's a boy," his mom told me. Suddenly I noticed the blue jersey he was wearing. Oops. The hair threw me off.
Uncle Don arrived, and I yelled a greeting to him through the door, still holding the tiny baby, motioning him inside. We talked and hung out for the next 35 minutes or so. Another young woman came into the lobby and approached me, noticing the tiny baby I was holding. "How old is she?" she asked me. "Well, she's not mine. She's her's," I said, pointing to the mom who was now on the phone, seeming frustrated and upset with whatever was not working right for her on the phone. "But I hear she's five weeks old. Isn't she cute?" "I have kids too," the new young Caucasian mom told me. "A three and a half year old, and a two and a half year old." We talked some more, and she pulled out her wallet to show me pictures of her youngest. Her boyfriend was hopefully coming into town on the next bus, and she had paid a good price for him to come. "I bet your kids are excited to see him again," I said. "Oh, I don't have them, I'm still fighting for custody of them." We talked some more, admired the precious infant in my arms, discussed my kids' ages, and waited for the Greyhound buses to pull into the lot.
Across from us, a Latino man eyed us interestedly, watching the conversation. The two young moms talked some more. I patted the baby's back and rocked her. Outside, three men joked loudly together, smoking a few last ones before their buses came. A car drove in the lot, threw out some jovial conversation with the people there, and then left again.
The young mom's bus came, and we helped her watch her gear and kids while she got most of her luggage stored under the bus. Her toddler son proudly lugged a backpack to the bus to help. I cradled her little girl until she came back inside. "Have a great trip," I said. "May God bless you and your kids. They are precious." The young white woman and I said good bye too, and I wished her luck on her boyfriend getting here and on the child custody battle. We parted warmly.
Uncle Don got on his bus. I stood beside the smiling, smoking men in the cool breeze outside, the smell reminding me fondly of my grandma, waving to Don through the windows, and waiting for the bus to pull away.
Eating my vanilla yogurt, navy-clad pregnant woman that I was, I sat there quietly, watching the baby in the infant carseat, watching the long fluffy-haired toddler banging the phone receiver again. Another spoonful of yogurt, more silence. The Greyhound man came back in the room to see me with two kids, and no mom. I ate another bite of yogurt, glancing at each child. It would be odd if the mom didn't come back, or something. What would I do? Another bite of yogurt, and the toddler is now trying to climb up the phone cord. "Um, careful, sweetie," I say to the child. "No hanging." Hmm, I wonder, if the phone breaks, am I responsible?
Just then the young slender mom comes out of the bathroom, and smiles at me. All is good. I finish my yogurt and take a turn in the bathroom too. When I come out the mom is trying to get the toddler occupied with some music, and the tiny curly haired infant is fussing in her chair, a bottle of formula propped up on her tummy. "Would she let me hold her?" I ask the young mom, pointing at her youngest. Soon I was cradling a tiny five week old little girl, feeding her her bottle, and trying to burp her. I spent the next 45 minutes holding her, and talking to various people in the lobby. "And how old is your other little girl?" I asked, looking at the cute active toddler, with long voluminous hair in a pony tail. "He's a boy," his mom told me. Suddenly I noticed the blue jersey he was wearing. Oops. The hair threw me off.
Uncle Don arrived, and I yelled a greeting to him through the door, still holding the tiny baby, motioning him inside. We talked and hung out for the next 35 minutes or so. Another young woman came into the lobby and approached me, noticing the tiny baby I was holding. "How old is she?" she asked me. "Well, she's not mine. She's her's," I said, pointing to the mom who was now on the phone, seeming frustrated and upset with whatever was not working right for her on the phone. "But I hear she's five weeks old. Isn't she cute?" "I have kids too," the new young Caucasian mom told me. "A three and a half year old, and a two and a half year old." We talked some more, and she pulled out her wallet to show me pictures of her youngest. Her boyfriend was hopefully coming into town on the next bus, and she had paid a good price for him to come. "I bet your kids are excited to see him again," I said. "Oh, I don't have them, I'm still fighting for custody of them." We talked some more, admired the precious infant in my arms, discussed my kids' ages, and waited for the Greyhound buses to pull into the lot.
Across from us, a Latino man eyed us interestedly, watching the conversation. The two young moms talked some more. I patted the baby's back and rocked her. Outside, three men joked loudly together, smoking a few last ones before their buses came. A car drove in the lot, threw out some jovial conversation with the people there, and then left again.
The young mom's bus came, and we helped her watch her gear and kids while she got most of her luggage stored under the bus. Her toddler son proudly lugged a backpack to the bus to help. I cradled her little girl until she came back inside. "Have a great trip," I said. "May God bless you and your kids. They are precious." The young white woman and I said good bye too, and I wished her luck on her boyfriend getting here and on the child custody battle. We parted warmly.
Uncle Don got on his bus. I stood beside the smiling, smoking men in the cool breeze outside, the smell reminding me fondly of my grandma, waving to Don through the windows, and waiting for the bus to pull away.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
We have been having fun setting up the baby's corner of our room. Before flying out to see my brother in WA last weekend, I left a gallon of paint for my man. He kindly painted the baby's corner that color (gingseng = a light creamy white, with tiny yellow hues in it.). Tuesday, our family each took turns putting up a sheet of Pooh Bear decals. (Mark had Eyore.) On Thursday, I re-painted the neat old wooden dresser from Deb to match that corner, and today, we moved the dresser and drawers in, filled with the clothes we have so far for the little boy. My daughter got to decorate the top of the dresser. What do you think so far of our corner?
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Pink Afghan Strides into Male-Dominated Battle
A fluttery pink afghan sweater floated at the top of Morgan's grey-green camouflage pants as she ducked and swirled around in battle. Fourteen Star Wars light sabre-wielding guys yelled and battled around her. Two sides fought across our damp green lawn yesterday, as the light snow flurries fell. It was John's 13th birthday, and the snow at the beginning of the morning took us by surprise. Slightly panicked at the idea of 12 male teens and pre-teens coming over and not being able to play outside for those three hours, we hurried to come up with some indoor activities and tournaments. Snow kept coming down. Later, the sun peeked out of the clouds; it warmed up slightly; and by the time the indoor tournaments had wound down, the guys were able to race outside with their light sabres. They battled for an hour! My daughter joined them, swirling and dying dramatically in her pink fluffy shawl.
I sipped decaf coffee indoors much of that last battle time, seeing the tiny flurries of snow fall, and grinning at the dramatic war cries from outside, talking with my mom and dad and sister.
How was your weekend?
I sipped decaf coffee indoors much of that last battle time, seeing the tiny flurries of snow fall, and grinning at the dramatic war cries from outside, talking with my mom and dad and sister.
How was your weekend?
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Cheeses and Avocados
What a beautiful sunny day. We have finished our day of schooling and the kids are now racing outside to play. John's got his rollerblades on, Morgan is finishing up some projects in her room while listening to Adventures in Odyssey radio theatre. I love having the windows and decks open for a fresh smelling cross-breeze, wind-chimes dangling on the deck.
Yesterday was my birthday and my family shook their heads at my oddness...
Earlier in the week they had asked me for gift ideas. Knowing that my house was already plenty full of items, I instead suggested special treat foods, like strong European cheeses (Gruyere), or those great Odwalla or Bolthouse healthy juices, or avocados! My kids and my husband were appalled at my suggestions. "Those aren't presents! They won't last." But I laughed and insisted that really those sounded great. "I often walk past the avocados or the special cheeses and juices, thinking, 'Oooh, can I get one of these as a special treat this time?!' --and I do!--or other times, I think 'Well, I'll save that treat for another day.' It's that frugal part of me, or the missionary kid part of me that chooses her treats carefully and then savors them for a long time. (You should have seen how long we could make a European chocolate bar last in Africa, since they were rare!) My family shook their heads at me with smiles and went shopping.
Yesterday though as I got up for breakfast, my family was all waiting for me. They sang Happy Birthday to me as I walked into the kitchen, and Morgan gleefully pointed to the presents on the kitchen table for me. "Look, Mom!" she squealed. Unwrapping each present, I laughed along with them. There was a Brie cheese from France, a Gouda cheese from Holland, a Gruyere!! from Switzerland, and a Feta cheese of Greek descent. Plus, hidden in tiny round bags, was an avocado and a mango. They had also thought of chocolate bars (Almond Joys and Three Musketeers). Mmmmmm. Morgan had written me a very sweet card, saying she loved me and other tender things. It was very nice.
So, this pregnant woman, who is already taking longer to find outfits that fit and look nice, is now adding European cheeses and candy bars to that mix! Uh, oh. :)
How are you guys? What are you enjoying doing this sunny week?
Yesterday was my birthday and my family shook their heads at my oddness...
Earlier in the week they had asked me for gift ideas. Knowing that my house was already plenty full of items, I instead suggested special treat foods, like strong European cheeses (Gruyere), or those great Odwalla or Bolthouse healthy juices, or avocados! My kids and my husband were appalled at my suggestions. "Those aren't presents! They won't last." But I laughed and insisted that really those sounded great. "I often walk past the avocados or the special cheeses and juices, thinking, 'Oooh, can I get one of these as a special treat this time?!' --and I do!--or other times, I think 'Well, I'll save that treat for another day.' It's that frugal part of me, or the missionary kid part of me that chooses her treats carefully and then savors them for a long time. (You should have seen how long we could make a European chocolate bar last in Africa, since they were rare!) My family shook their heads at me with smiles and went shopping.
Yesterday though as I got up for breakfast, my family was all waiting for me. They sang Happy Birthday to me as I walked into the kitchen, and Morgan gleefully pointed to the presents on the kitchen table for me. "Look, Mom!" she squealed. Unwrapping each present, I laughed along with them. There was a Brie cheese from France, a Gouda cheese from Holland, a Gruyere!! from Switzerland, and a Feta cheese of Greek descent. Plus, hidden in tiny round bags, was an avocado and a mango. They had also thought of chocolate bars (Almond Joys and Three Musketeers). Mmmmmm. Morgan had written me a very sweet card, saying she loved me and other tender things. It was very nice.
So, this pregnant woman, who is already taking longer to find outfits that fit and look nice, is now adding European cheeses and candy bars to that mix! Uh, oh. :)
How are you guys? What are you enjoying doing this sunny week?
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