Thursday, September 29, 2011

A Daybook on the Occasion of Returning Home

Outside my window ...
Grey skies for days now. Every once in awhile the sun peeks through and a hint of blue appears. Tomorrow promises sunshine and Autumnal temps are in store for this weekend. Loveliness.
I am wearing ...
Denim capris and a short sleeve, plaid pull-over blouse. No shoes or socks.
Around the house ...
Isaac's presence lingers and fills me, even though he hasn't been here for a few days. What joy to have him so nearby. Grateful.

From the kitchen ...
Pot roast in the crock pot and I will be preparing a chicken dinner for Katie, Sam & Isaac later this afternoon.

I am hearing ...
The A/C running. It is still muggy outside.
I am creating ...
Bad poetry ... in my head. Maybe I'll write it down - maybe I won't. Maybe I shouldn't.
On Pandora ...
Adele crooning "Daydreamer"

I am reading ...
On my Kindle ... Thunder Dog: The True Story of a Blind Man, His Guide Dog, and the Triumph of Trust at Ground Zero.

I am hoping and praying ...
For God's blessings on my friends and a few acquaintances who are carrying huge crosses right now. And for good health, and a safe pregnancy and delivery for my Katie.
I am grateful ...
To have the opportunity to return home after working 'out there' for over 7 years. God is so good to me.
And ... for the nearly 3 years I had working for the Town of Herndon with these awesome colleagues, whom I will always consider dear friends:
The Human Resources staff


The IT staff


The Town Attorney staff


I am pondering ...
There was a lot of uproar over the recent changes Facebook has made. The collective whine was deafening. Honestly, I was pretty much indifferent about the changes. I am more concerned about how I allow Facebook to lure me in and I worry about getting sucked in for hours at a time while the dust bunnies reproduce under the furniture and the mountain of laundry grows a little higher and higher. I realize Facebook is merely a tool and admittedly, I have delighted in finding long, lost friends and corresponding with folks whom I don't see very often. Even local friends post great photos and links to informative and humorous articles and stories. It also allows me to 'chat' with Megan while she's away at school. While I was working, I made a pact with myself to only spend 30 minutes a day on the computer, with the exception of writing - otherwise nothing would get done around here. Now that I am no longer working outside my home, I need to stick to that pact. I will not fiddle around on Facebook while my husband is home and in my presence. Interacting with him (and actually all other family members and guests) is far more important. All this leads me think about this post (regarding our slavery to technology) that was brought to my attention by my friend, Elizabeth.  I hope to explore the topic more in a later post. Until then, just one last thought ... Wendell Berry continues to write all his books and essays by hand. In this day and age that is impressive, and for me, inspiring.
A picture thought ...
Peanut Butter & Jelly sticking out my belly! And on my nose and in my ear and on my shoulder!

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Isaac Plays in Nana's Kitchen

Hello, Isaac!

Yes, I see all your teeth. You are becoming such a BIG boy!

It is fun to play 'store' with a can of mushrooms.
Isaac likes to play in Nana's kitchen.


Holly is curious about that can of mushrooms. She's hoping for a few nibbles!


Isaac spies Grandpa Jim and Daddy working on the new deck.



Look, Isaac! Daddy sees you through the window!

Sunday, September 4, 2011

September's Promise


There is a harmony
In autumn, and a lustre in its sky,
Which through the summer is not heard or seen,
As if it could not be, as if it had not been!
- Percy Bysshe Shelley

The air is different; evening creeps up fast, catching me off-guard and lingers long toward dawn. Our little crop of vegetables droop in fatigue and my petunias have grown weary in the fading summer's heat. The hydrangea never did bloom well this summer (too hot) and those darned suckers grown tall from the Crape Myrtle need trimming. Yet, I am grateful that for the most part the flower garden has been self-sustaining. After trouble with my knee made tending it difficult for me, my husband was able to weed periodically and water during the hottest and driest weeks, keeping a presentable appearance.

 I recall how my heart sank mid-August at hearing the news, the MRI results bearing the dreaded confirmation of MS. We had hoped not. Hoped long and hard. My maternal instinct wagged a specious finger at me. "How could you have let this happen? Why didn't you protect her like you once did -- from tumbling out of her crib, from germs, from electrocution, from untoward peers, from spiritual harm?" 
And so, here am I, accused. 

Summoning our holy Mother, I collapse into her arms. Who knows better than Our Lady, the torment in witnessing the suffering of her child? She lifts my spirit, girds me in faith and hope and reminds me that love, " ... bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." (1 Cor 13:7) 

And my mother's heart knows again to trust; everything will be all right.

*******************************
The sun crouches low, kissing my back more now than my brow. The cricket chants his nocturnal hymn in sweet, smooth harmony as the breeze promises refreshment and soothing.

How fitting that September heralds new beginnings. A new school year for some, a new season for many. For my family, this month divulges a new promise that has lifted us and will bear us through our winter and soften its blow (and, likely, all our winters to come). Katie, Sam and their dear, little Isaac, have been gifted with a brand new creation -- a new life to nurture, to offer supplication, to celebrate!

Please join us in thanksgiving to our Father in Heaven and in prayer for a healthy, happy nine (or so) months as we wait in joyful anticipation and in love for the arrival of a new little one to shower with kisses and to cuddle so very close to our hearts. 





Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever.
Psalm 118:1