Tuesday, January 22, 2013


I have been stewing over this for quite a while.

I don't want to, but I am compelled.

Sometimes there comes a moment when your house is a mess, your kids are a mess, your husband is dressing creatively and there is no bread...again when you need to take a break.

I am sorry to say that I am taking a pause and this will be more than a few weeks while I fold socks.  I need to focus on a few things I am feeling called to.  It is killing me to not be able to manage all of it at once, but little by little, God is showing me I can only really do what I have been called to do.  If I attach more tasks, then I am pulling more weight than I can manage with joy in my heart.

After giving up my animals and my garden, I thought that would be enough, but it seems that God is paring me down a bit more.  I am leaving this space for a while to focus on some forest fires in my life.

One of them might be a book.

So, please be gentle.  I am trying!

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

You broke my heart, Mom

Today was brought to you by the art of wailing.  We blasted right through whining and turned the sirens up to full yell.

During the putting the toys away phase, I was accused of breaking my child's heart.  Probably I did it on purpose.  Probably I am a bad guy.  Oh the tears!

So, I took a nap.

But, I checked in here to tell you that Laine started his violin lessons!  Mama is so proud.  He came to his lesson dressed appropriately in a bathing suit, work out shirt, and super hero mask.  Claire didn't bat an eye.  He came bouncing down the stairs and announced he was suuuuuper fassssst then capered around a bit all knees and elbows.  Then he announced that his violin was squeaky.  He is not wrong.

This week we get to practice holding the bow.

I am going to take pictures.

We might have to take several.

Provided we are not all in tears.

Monday, January 7, 2013

A bit touched in the head

All these ideas were generated by listening to Rob Blackburn's Christmas Eve Service...

Often I wonder about the blog description for this here web log.

Reflections on my first garden. Joys, frustrations, successes, and failures. A stay at home mom who just wants to grow vegetables.

Uhmmmm...I do not even have a garden plot plot.  And by now I am onto my fourth house since I started writing here, so it really isn't my first garden.  But my plan is to garden...always.  My plan is to homestead and can and spin and have sheep and basically be muddy and homemade all the time.  But life keeps changing and getting in the way.  Sure, I can grow zucchini like a hero.  (I am Zucchini Girl, with the power to invade every meal in the house)  And I still technically own two goats, but alas I am closer to going to medical school than to milking a dairy goat.

So why not change it?

Because it reminds me that life is just quirky.  We love one idea, but find ourselves on new adventures we never even dreamed of.  It reminds me to poke something in the ground every year just for kicks.  I kinda love the irony.  If I am honest, sometimes I would rather be growing vegetables than struggling through ideas of poverty and justice.  Seeds are honest and predictable and sometimes life isn't.  But I don't claim to understand...I am touched in the head a bit.

A couple of thousand years ago, God showed up on earth briefly and we aren't over it yet.  Sure I know God is great and awesome and mighty, but how severely I must underestimate God if one 30ish year encounter with God's incarnate self brings world-wide upheaval.  It has been 2000 years and we still are running around like rock-less ants.  Jesus lived and died and rose from the dead and we are still drunk on it.

So, if I keep getting distracted from the garden...I claim intoxication.

Happy Epiphany

So excited that the wise men are finally here!

Because I am tired, dang it!  Once again, Christmas pretty much whooped me.

I didn't hang stocking--with or without care.  But baby Jesus came anyway.

Our tree is sitting by the road waiting to be chipped into mulch and the decorations are in tubs waiting for our house elf to schlepp them into the shed.  The presents are opened and the cookies are eaten (even the ones I hid for later).

Now we sit poised on the tip of a new year, wondering what the next 12 months will bring.  Part of us sighs and says, "it will be full of exactly the same drivel as last year."  Meetings, planning, preparing, Facebooking, Pinteresting and scheduling.

All our present participles seem to be accounted for year after year.

But this year, I choose being.

The truly present participle.

If you didn't snort some sort of drink out of your nose just now, I am disappointed.

Somehow I have reached adulthood without having developed a knack for this.  Whenever life smacks of just being, by right knee gets wobbly and I start marching in circles looking for a project.  Quick!  I need a to be doing!  I get sweaty just thinking about watching a WHOLE FEATURE LENGTH FILM without knitting or SOMETHING.

So this year, I am going to put on a knee brace, pocket my iPhone (aka time eater), plan my time rigorously so that when we get to the part where we just be...I just will...

And maybe this year will be different.  At least for the two or three minutes I remember I am doing this.