Category Archive

Here are a couple runners-up (above). Below are a couple of non runners-up.

The next photo reminds me of an album cover for some oldies style album. Something like Beach Babe in the Field.

The Lonesome Hill Gang is about to cut their first CD, and we went up there this week to take photos for the cover art. We took over three hundred photos, and they have narrowed it down to three. The above photo is one of the finalist. Below are the other two.

So what do you think?

I’ll post some of the runners-up later on.

“The foundation of our national policy will be laid in the pure and immutable principles of private morality; …the propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right which Heaven itself has ordained…” George Washington, First Inaugural, April 30 1789

Our Fourth of July was spent with family and friends. We checked out some cool, classic cars, listened to a good bluegrass band, and of course, watched fireworks.

This was Kinsley’s favorite car on the lot.

Sophie pretty much just ate, and clung to me like a monkey.

In anticipation of the firework show…

And the actual firework photos:

My brother Jared graduated this past weekend. He and three of his friends planned an official commencement ceremony to celebrate the accomplishment.

We wanted to give our nephew, Wesley, a good taste of Missouri. But when you’re entertaining guests from Florida, Missouri sort of pales in comparison. Not that I would trade it for Florida, but Floridians are at least as proud of their state as Missourians are of Missouri. So we tried to think of activities that would be a good representation of things that you can’t really do in Florida.

For one thing, you wouldn’t go wading in a stream like this, in Florida. Unless you like being gator bait.

For the same reason, you wouldn’t stand in the river and fish, so that is exactly what we did.

Which brings us to the part where Kinsley catches her first fish. And falls in love.

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That look on her face cracks me up every time I see this photo. She was so infatuated with that fish! Just after I took that last photo, the fish squirmed out of her hands and swam to safety. I imagine he told his fishy buddies “You’re never going to believe what just happened to me!”

Sophie in just her diaper. She’s oddly lumpy, and incredibly squeezable.

Storms in the distance.

The whirlwind visits of family from afar.

A conglomeration of nieces, siblings, and daughters. Can you see what doesn’t belong in that photo?

Simple fixes to concerning vehicle issues. It’s so nice to learn that the problem is an $11 part!

Evening picnics on Great-Great Grandma’s quilt.

Making do, in the good old Ozarkian way.

Sisters and nieces. They’re kind of summery, and I sure do love ‘em!

Fishing. We’ve fished in about every body of water in the Ozarks over the past couple of weeks, and Kinsley caught her very first fish. But that’s another post for another time.

Summer sunsets.

Swimming. Canoing. Gardening. Plump, juicy blueberries, warmed in the sunshine. Even the to-do list has a certain charm in the middle of summer. There is so much richness to be enjoyed this time of year!

My brother Zion is into this sport called football. I don’t really understand the concept, but it’s something like this.

See that ball? Apparently everybody on that field, wants that ball. And while they’re playing, it has to be that ball, not any one of the hundreds of others they could easily lay their hands on at Walmart.

There are a lot of tense moments during the game. Stand-offs, where no one actually moves, they all squat and stare at a ball which is remaining perfectly still. Then someone throws it, and all heck breaks loose.

Usually, someone eventually catches the oddly shaped ball and then runs with it for a second or two, but apparently deciding that they really don’t know what to do with it after all, the person throws it to a nearby team-mate, who does pretty much the same thing, all while dodging various people who are determined to get their hands and that ball.

There’s some other terminology involved, words like Hike, and Hut, and Quarter Backer and Line Backer, but I’m not really sure how these terms fit into the game. Zion has tried to impress these terms on me, and even demonstrated them numerous times in my kitchen, but I’m afraid it’s all a little beyond me. Sophie seems to be picking it up, though.

Apparently, Zion is showing some real aptitude for this sport (due, in no small part, to all the tussles we all had as children over various objects, including the occasional ball). He has been participating in a summer camp to help prepare for some official games over the fall.

The team is a community team, comprised of homeschoolers, private schoolers, and public schoolers. The dream is that someday it will consist of home and private school kids.

Dad has been acting as an assistant coach during the camp.

Until they get their official uniforms, all their jerseys say “11″ on the back. Which makes cheering really easy and fool proof. “Go number 11! You’re the best player out there! Woo-Hoo!!!”

1. pillowcase dress

A while back I made THESE pillowcase dresses. Like the t-shirt skirts, I thought the project went smoothly, and always planned to get back to the idea. But, like the skirts, I never did. I did save these links as cute ideas though…

Jen, at Red Instead, has this tutorial.

Leslie also has a tutorial up at her blog, A Room Somewhere. I enjoy reading Leslie’s blog regularly, by the way.

And then there’s Susan’s tutorial on Freshly Picked

2. boston terrier puppies

I don’t actually have Boston Terriers, but my parents do, and they love them to death. They have three of them actually - two females and a male. THe male is virtually impossible to photograph, but here are the two females…

3. dobson ron paul

This search term is interesting to me for many different reasons. The search usually takes people to the post about the open letter to Dr. Dobson. The interesting thing to me, is that any leader in the Christian community can carry so much weight that his endorsement of any political candidate is crucial to that candidacy. It’s also amazing that Christians are so willing to not think, and instead allow a “spiritual geru” to do their thinking for them. We seem to be like sheep who confuse a slightly larger, more prominent sheep for The Shepherd.

4. home crafts

This is one of my favorite topics, right up there with thrifting!

5. baseball posters

I have no idea why this search would lead to my blog. I don’t own any baseball posters, and don’t really have any interest in them. But hello, people searching for baseball posters! Can I interest you in a cup of coffee and photos of my daughters? They’re much cuter than big stinky baseball players anyway. And they sweat less. Not that a poster sweats, but you’d probably have the impression of sweat every time you looked at your poster.

6. embroidery patterns

I love anything with vintage embroidery - especially pillowcases. I wish I could embroidery, but I can’t ever make it look right. I envision all these sweet, simple little girls dresses in natural fibers and neutral colors with charming little embroidered accents.

Beetastic has an amazing collection of vintage embroidery finds. I love to browse through her photostream.

7. seashell crafts

I assume that this search leads to Gentlewood Cottage because of the wreath which I made for Christmas two years ago…

8. marme

The girls’ name for my mom. The name was chosen by my sister-in-law, Delana. I insisted that I got to choose what our kids would call my dad, so he’s Granddad.

9. retro homemaking

An endlessly fun topic. But really, there’s not much difference in Retro Homemaking, and Modern Homemaking, when it comes to the technique - it’s the mentality that’s different. Maybe that should be a whole ‘nother post for a whole ‘nother time.

10. vintage picnic

Ahh the romance…

We used to do this sort of thing more often pre-kid. Maybe someday it won’t seem so daunting and we’ll do it more often again.

You could serve any food at a “vintage” picnic. The romance is in the presentation. Chipped vintage plates with cheery colored flowers, sparkling citrus soda served in real glasses, and strong black coffee in chunky vintage coffee mugs are all essential. Someday I would love to find a genuine red-checkered table cloth to add to my picnic stash. If you’re lucky enough, you will dine on a grassy slope, overlooking a smooth jazz or a big band concert playing in the distance.

In the “old days” we took a book and read for hours. Maybe in the future we will enjoy that again, this time with our children flying kites and chasing butterflies in the distance.

11. love husband

This search thrills me. It’s like Google saw that search and thought “Who was that lady who writes that blog? Don’t you think it’s pretty obvious that she loves her husband? Let’s add that as a search result.” Yup, it must have gone something like that.

12. pioneer spider cooking pan

What? You lost me on that one.

13. handsome husband

See number 11. Strike “loves her husband?”. Insert “has a handsome husband?”.

This was definitely the best part of the trip. The kids enjoyed themselves immensely. It was nearly closing time, and they essentially had the fountain to themselves.

Life looks so different, when you’re tiny.

Sophie took a while to get up the nerve to actually get in and get wet.

She and Drew sort of emboldened each other.

Kinsley on the other hand, dove right in and embraced the adventure.

We also noticed that Caleb was as thrilled and pleased with this, as he had been to go on some of the bigger, wetter rides. He seems to be at the optimum age for this sort of thing, being equally thrilled by attractions designed for smaller kids and those designed for the adventurous adults.

Sophie tried to discover the source of the water…

And was continually shocked (and pleased) to get wet…

Kinsley has a rule that she must ingest as much water from every source as she can possibly manage. And we wonder why she got sick when we arrived home.

Ahh… if only I could be so carefree!

Steeped in the glory and rich traditions of great World’s Fairs of the time, The Grand Exposition is a streetmosphere of excitement.

The Magnificent Wave Carousel thrilled Hosannah thoroughly.

The Happy Frogs…

And the Wings of Wonder - which struck fear onto the hearts of my daughters….

We attended a bluegrass jam session in honor of our niece, Natalie’s birthday.

Over the past year, Nathan and Natalie have picked up bluegrass in an incredible way.

They have recently (with a few other local people and their mother (Aunt Paula), formed a new bluegrass band, called The Lonesome Hill Gang.

The girls danced through the jam, entertaining the old ladies.

Oh, and if you’re wondering why Kinsley is in her panties, it’s cause of the fountain…

But, to get back to the subject of this post. Nathan and Natalie wrote the following song (which, by the way, is one of my favorite bluegrass pieces!)

Nathan says:

My sister and I had been writing this song about a week before we named it. A couple day’s later we had a very big thunderstorm,our creek was a roaring torrent,the water was easily 3′over the bridge.I had just finished working out the bugs on our song, but we still didn’t have a name for it. We played the song a couple times and thought it sounded a lot like a creek that was swollen from heavy rains. Our creek’s name is “Clear Creek”, so we thought that “Clear Creek Run” would be an appropriate name for it.

Genius, no?

Journal Entry 5/19/08

As the sun peeked over the horizon and made its way through the window, onto my bed; it kissed my face. I thought of our weekend at Dan and Candace’s place. The highlight of our weekend, indeed! And how could it not be when sweet, little sunshiny kisses hit our cheeks on and off through the whole stay? And like the sun rises and sets, each kiss from our precocious little nieces, dampened our faces with moisture like the morning dew.

Upon our arrival we were enticed with a delectable menu creatively prepared by Candace, whose appetite for innovative recipes (influenced by the Confessions of a Pioneer Woman) tantalized our curiosities. She sited the recipes on her fifty’s retro, white enameled, metal cabinets. We gave our invitation of helping hands. She gladly accepted, but with our meager efforts she managed quite well; most of which could have been done without us, including a wonderful conflagration upon her busy stove top. Fireworks wouldn’t have done any justice; the excitement alone was quite exciting and entertaining! She calmly said, “What will put it out?” and I said hastily, “Baking powder! Oh, er…no, I think its baking soda!” Just like I said she could manage well enough without us.

We enjoyed a Cheese macaroni dish that consisted of green and red peppers, red onions, and…cheese! Brilliant! (That certainly didn’t give credit to the pioneer-lady, sorry about that), anyway, what ever was in it, sure pleased our palates…

…Along side this “palate-pleaser” was a beautiful, mostly homegrown salad (greens and scallions given by Grandma Brand of course) and arrayed creatively in a striking wooden, teardrop shape bowl was green and red bell peppers and…scallions! My brilliance strikes again, (she still could do better without my help). Let’s just say… you had to be there!

Oh, I did forget the stuffed jalapeños filled with…yikes; here I go again…cheese!! (Cream cheese…that is) At least they were wrapped with bacon and no doubt, deliciously HOT! I better quit while I’m ahead or am I? Uhgg, I left out the most important thing, dessert! Grasshopper Pie! There that was easy.

All in all it was very entertaining and very complimentary of Candace’s character. She enjoys the “far and outrageous menus” to which everything prepared was a palatal success, indeed!

Kinsley and Sophie, rug rats of the sort, displayed their precocious characters to the hilt. Crying and whining in a tizzy like manner, probably not even sure what they wanted or why they were fussing. They probably were mimicking what we “big” people tend to do, who knows. Their delectable nuance of character kept them entertaining at all times. Kinsley, in her own little world certainly thought she was the center of attention would carry on a “know-it-all” adult conversation; at least she appeared to have it all figured out, and maybe she did. Sophie on the other hand, puttered around with her two-inch length little legs, going from one thing to another; cloth on her head, ball in hand, examining crumbs and crying for Mama and her “binkster.”

We had beautiful walks down the city-park sidewalk, which led to the city park.

Our eyes found animated wild flowers waving their cheerful blossoms in the gentle breeze that tantalized and led them to the bubbling creek that runs through the little town.

The banks were also adorned with flowing, hair-like, tall grasses which gave a soft continuity against the rocky banks.

The activities of our stay consisted of basket ball at the park, without a basket ball— hum, “who would-a-thunk” (a Mark Jacobson term)? The only ball available was a soft soccer ball that Dan and Candace had…“Hey, whatever works!” The English family joined us there and all had a wild game of soccer-ball/basket ball game, they didn’t seem to miss the proper ball.

The playground was Kinsley’s and Sophie’s delight other than almost getting plowed on the court and totally oblivious to it all. Sophie found the slide to be thrilling and her face in an almost fright, gave “us” observing more of a thrill! Kinsley gave her Uncle Jared an exhausting time (to his delight of course) with her “peek-a-boo” games.

We headed to the Huzzah, I think or at least it was an arm of it, to slash on buoy-boards and plastic donut floaters.

It didn’t last long though, the water was too cold. Kinsley took it upon herself to release the “warm liquid kind” onto the only blanket we had to sit on. She thought what was wrong with that, it’s a normal fact of life!

Sophie examined the geological finds of ornate rocks though half her time was spent trying to balance on them which set her to get angry and think that it was her Mama’s fault or anyone who was near. My kids shivered and chattered most of the time, they didn’t want their Aunt Candace to get her feelings hurt you know.

Nathan took it upon himself to use Sophie’s floating ring and had a cute ride down some cute little rapids. He looked like an over-sized spider that found a nice spot to spin its web. Kind of gross with those hairy, spindly legs hanging out over the sides; if I had a fly-swatter I might have used it!

Gage and Glen, once back at D& C’s home, continued their racer-like bike rides down the sidewalk, dodging each other before a collision took place (I had to resign myself to whatever course it took, luckily nothing happened and they got to enjoy their uninterrupted fun).

Nathan and Eric took to mowing for Dan. I think they felt sorry for him; poor guy, he needs a break here and there; he’s a busy man you know! Ahh, gee (that’s what the kids would say)!

Nathan and Natalie were big helps in the kitchen washing dishes and mopping floors and at best helping with their tiny little cousins demanding needs.

We all found it a delightful weekend and a break from the monotony of our lonesome hill. Tears ended the stay for the little guys and following the next day, Gage didn’t unpack because it made him sad; he even said he was going to keep his toothbrush in there too, and didn’t see why we couldn’t just go back. He’d be ready if we had a change of mind.

To sum it up: “If you stay out in the sun long enough, you’re bound to get sun-kissed and better yet, if you stay out in the sun long enough with you nieces, you are bound to get the ultimate sun-kiss… ” — Aunt Paula of course!

On Sunday we spent some time with Dan’s brother and his family after church. We had a great time, listening to music, laughing, admiring the scenery on their beautiful property, going out for ice cream, and avoiding a tornado.

All day it had been stuffy, with about 200% humidity. We all agreed that ice cream would be an appropriate ending for the day. Just as we were about to head into town, a storm began to roll in.

But once you’ve told six children that you’re going to buy ice cream cones, you don’t let anything deter you. Even the possibility of major, tornadic storm.

As we were finishing our ice cream, the storm really began to blow in.

Dan and I had to get gas before heading home, but after two of the gas pumps didn’t work, it took us so long to get out of the gas station that we decided to go South, back to Eric’s house, rather than forging North, into the storm. Little did we know that we were driving right into another bad cell.

After driving a few miles, we heard on the radio that a tornado had been spotted on the county border (about six miles ahead of us, in the direction we were heading). Behind us, the tornado siren from town was going off. We tried to press on, but the wind was rocking our two vans so violently that we ended up puling off the road.

Unfortunately the people who lived in the house where we stopped have never, ever won any awards for politeness. The woman came to the door and told us we were fine - and that there was no tornado. She then told us we could wait out the storm on her porch, shouting over the roaring winds and tornado siren that “this is no tornado”. She even had the audacity to claim that her dog wouldn’t poop in a tornado. What sort of person would turn down a family with several small and terrified kids in that situation? Poor Gage kept crying “I don’t want to die!”

In retrospect, we were probably not in any eminent danger, but we’d rather be safe than sorry. The story about the family killed over Mother’s Day weekend when their vehicle blew off the road kept flitting through our minds, and we thought we’d play it safe by stopping. So much for Missouri hospitality!

Kinsley on the other hand, approaches live with much more thought and imagination. Many of her conversations begin with phrases like: “it seems to me…”.

As one uncle puts it, she’s the Dreamy One. Another phrases it “so many phobias, so little time”.

She preferred to stay closer to the ground on this particular evening, and pretended that she was eating “out”. We were cued into this game when Kinsley told Dan that she “had ordered already”, and was now “waiting”.

On the few occasions when she chose to slide, she was very careful to hold on to each bar in the railing on her way up the “stairs”.

Once she had reached the top, she thought carefully about her descent.

And often had to be coaxed down.

Once we left the park to walk home, she wanted to sit and “soak up the sun” in a safe place - “are there no ticks here, Papa?”

Sophie, who had no patience for this, decided to get on with things.

That’s pretty much Sophie’s approach to life. She goes and goes and goes, like the energizer bunny on speed.

The way she took to the slide at the park didn’t surprise us. Actually, the surprising part was how she got to the slide. We were at the basketball court when she decided that the slide looked fun. She took off running toward it, got to the edge of the court, noticed the one inch step down to the grass, stopped about three feet from the edge, sat down, scooted all the way to the edge and carefully scooted over that little lip and onto the grass, where she continued her dead run to the slide. That little bit of caution was the only bit we witnessed for the rest of the evening.

She would climb up to the top of the slide (however she could get there) and essentially hurtle herself down it, in any position. At the bottom she would shriek with laughter and shout “Faster! Faster!”

After “swimming” in the wading pool, Sophie fell asleep in the warm sunshine. As she lay against my chest, I just wanted to inhale her. She smelled of sunshine and sunscreen. Her skin was all rubbery and soft, like a stress ball. Which is good, because she tends to make me need a stress ball.

After admiring her tangled, strawberry blond curls, and her sweeping eyelashes, Natalie photographed the sweet, sleeping fairy.

See that chubby little wrinkle on the back of Sophie’s knee? That is Dan’s favorite part. It is pretty gooey, don’t you agree? I think it may be the only bit of chub on either daughter.

We filled the girls’ wading pool over the weekend, which has thrilled both girls beyond all imagination.

The water seemed especially photogenic (if water can be photogenic), and I think I actually took more photos of the water, than I took of the girls. Poor neglected things.

Nathan entertained the girls (and myself) by “squeezing the water”, as Kinsley phrases it.

At first, there was some concern about the cold-ness of the water.

But, they eventually overcame that, and managed to have a grand time.

The water also served as a very nice reflector for photographing small water fairies that happened to be in the pool.

Kinsley wants to spend every waking moment out in the pool, now.

…The bed-room should be capacious and well ventilated; fresh air frequently admitted; and if the season of the year permit, and there is no dampness of atmosphere, a window should be constantly open during the day…

From The Maternal Management of Children, in Health and Disease written by Thomas Bull, M.D in 1840

We seem to have acquired a nasty stomach bug, and it is clinging to us for dear life. The girls and I have been sick since last Wednesday with various amounts of fever, vomiting, and diarrhea. We finally seem to be beginning to mend, and are enjoying some sunshine and light exercise today as part of our therapy.

Thankfully Dan was able to spend some time at home, assisting with the illness, and cleaning up the results of the illness.

This statuette stood out to me when we visited the Art Museum for Dan’s birthday. It was entitled, simply, “Charity”. It struck me especially because the example of Charity in this case was a mother with two small children, and I immediately felt empathy with the statue. Then I thought again about the whole idea of allure and how it actually relates to the character of Charity, in that both require true self sacrifice.

In other words, in order to be a queen, I must simply embrace what God has given me to do, with the Spirit of Christ ruling my actions.

In WHAT’S WRONG WITH THE WORLD, G.K. Chesterton paints a vivid picture of the importance of the mother’s role:

“Our old analogy of the fire remains the most workable one.
The fire need not blaze like electricity nor boil like boiling water;
its point is that it blazes more than water and warms more than light.
The wife is like the fire, or to put things in their proper proportion,
the fire is like the wife. Like the fire, the woman is expected
to cook: not to excel in cooking, but to cook; to cook better
than her husband who is earning the coke by lecturing on botany
or breaking stones. Like the fire, the woman is expected to tell
tales to the children, not original and artistic tales, but tales–
better tales than would probably be told by a first-class cook.
Like the fire, the woman is expected to illuminate and ventilate,
not by the most startling revelations or the wildest winds of thought,
but better than a man can do it after breaking stones or lecturing.
But she cannot be expected to endure anything like this universal
duty if she is also to endure the direct cruelty of competitive or
bureaucratic toil. Woman must be a cook, but not a competitive cook;
a school mistress, but not a competitive schoolmistress;
a house-decorator but not a competitive house-decorator; a dressmaker,
but not a competitive dressmaker. She should have not one trade but
twenty hobbies; she, unlike the man, may develop all her second bests.
This is what has been really aimed at from the first in what
is called the seclusion, or even the oppression, of women.
Women were not kept at home in order to keep them narrow;
on the contrary, they were kept at home in order to keep them broad.
The world outside the home was one mass of narrowness,
a maze of cramped paths, a madhouse of monomaniacs.
It was only by partly limiting and protecting the woman that she
was enabled to play at five or six professions and so come almost
as near to God as the child when he plays at a hundred trades.
But the woman’s professions, unlike the child’s, were all truly
and almost terribly fruitful;…

…it is not difficult to see… why the female became the emblem
of the universal and the male of the special and superior.
Two gigantic facts of nature fixed it thus: first, that the woman
who frequently fulfilled her functions literally could not be
specially prominent in experiment and adventure; and second,
that the same natural operation surrounded her with very young children,
who require to be taught not so much anything as everything.
Babies need not to be taught a trade, but to be introduced to a world.
To put the matter shortly, woman is generally shut up in a house
with a human being at the time when he asks all the questions
that there are, and some that there aren’t. It would be odd
if she retained any of the narrowness of a specialist.
“

Charity, as defined by Webster:

1:
1. Love; universal benevolence; good will. 2: 4. Whatever is bestowed gratuitously on the needy or suffering for their relief; … any act of kindness.

With that, Happy Mother’s day! May you take joy in the sphere with which God has blessed you.

Sophie has a tongue which is about four inches long. We’re not sure what to do about it. She’s not sure what to do with it. It doesn’t seem to stay in her mouth.

Kinsley seems to be having issues with her tongue as well.

They come by it honestly. Their Papa sticks his tongue out when he concentrates. Their Mama was once a flower girl at a wedding and hung her tongue out of her mouth the entire time.

It was sort of a second (or third) celebration of Dan’s birthday. We settled ourselves into the backyard for some watermelon and observation.

Sophie seemed to prefer the green stuff on the bottom of the rind.

Kinsley noticed that the melon was the same color as her new shoes.

For the first part of the celebration of Dan’s birthday, we left the daughters at my parents house and took a mini vacation to Saint Louis. This was our first outing (alone) since last year on our anniversary.

We toured the art museum, and came away with enough thoughts to last a lifetime. Maybe I’ll try to share some of our impressions later on.

After the art museum, we went to dinner at Modesto, a tapas resturaunt which we have been wanting to try for three years.

The atmosphere was very pleasant.

It was quiet, and the waiters displayed just the right amount of attentiveness. We never had to wait for anything, but they didn’t hover too much, either.

The food was spectacular. The calamari was the best I’ve ever eaten.

The bread came with an olive dip that was wonderful.

And the chorizo…mmm…

All in all, we both agree that this may be the best restaurant we have ever eaten at.

After that, we walked to a nearby coffee shop. Which was one of the best coffee shops we’ve ever been to.

We sat in the warm evening sunshine and actually visited over our coffee. It was an amazing sensation. We giggled. And took photos of each other like silly newly weds.

We agreed that we missed the girls. Then, we went home and gathered up our precious daughters.

Phase two of the birthday celebrations to come tomorrow…

To the world’s best Papa and husband - the light of our lives! Happy Birthday to the man who penned these words, five years ago:

I long to hold you all through the night, and watch you sleeping next to me as I thank God again and again for you, and pray for you. I long to cuddle with you, and watch sunsets, and full moons, and fingernail moons, and snow fall, and storms, and breakers, and fall colors, and who can tell what else. I long to work with you, my helpmeet, on all the good work the Lord has for us.

I will never be able to get enough of you, my darling. You are much more than a dream come true. No one but our loving, knowing Lord can know how much you amaze me, and how much you have my heart! May God make you fulfilled, satisfied, happy and fruitful in these revived, happy arms, by His grace.”

All of our dreams continue to come true! God has blessed me with the most wonderful man and two lovely daughters.

So I thank God for the birth of my husband, and I look forward with hope to the many years we will have together, enjoying His creation, and participating in His Life.

Swinging has rapidly become the activity of choice among the daughters. I think they could absolutely live on those swings if we let them. Even Sophie seems to hold on remarkably well for a one year old.

Speaking of Sophie, I’m really not sure what the problem is with her tongue. I think it may be actually too long for her mouth. It’s about four inches long, and she seems to have trouble containing it.

Over the weekend, I purchased a pair of shorts for Kinsley at a local yard sale. Kinsley lives in them now, even though the weather has turned cool again. She insists that these shorts are exactly what she needs to “catch frog legs with Uncle Jacob” and since you can never know when you might need to catch a frog leg, she wears them as much as she can get away with. She seems to feel light and springy in them.

On Saturday, Kinsley set off on a lone walk. Papa watched her from the yard as I hung laundry on the line. We thought that she would stop at a bench which is within easy walking distance of our house, and is usually the destination of the girls’ expotitions. Instead, she confidently strode past the bench, arms swinging carelessly at her sides, watching the birds along the creek. When she got near the bend in the pathway which leads to a bridge over the creek, Papa called to her, instructing her to turn and walk back toward our yard. She obeyed, in her dreamy Kinsley way. She was nearly home when she stumbled and fell. Both of her bare, bony knees were scraped, but I think the real injuries came from the shock of being jolted from her dreamy reverie.

Papa cleaned her wounds, explaining sadly that this was her first strawberry, and one of the first of many injuries which she would probably be inflicted with throughout her life.

On Monday, as Kinsley was going potty, she inspected her knee which has caused her much grief over the past few days. She looked up at me and said:

“We call this a strawberry. I don’t like strawberries. And anyway, I tasted it, and it’s not a strawberry - it’s just a scrape.”

“To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.”
~Emily Dickinson

This morning I took a rare moment when Sophie was down for a nap to curl up in Dan’s recliner chair with a cup of coffee and Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Simple Abundance, A Day Book of Comfort and Joy. As I read, I was aware of the sounds of the house: the dishwasher, the washing machine, the rise and fall of Sophie’s deep breathing over the baby monitor, and the faint dripping of rain on the tender new leaves of the trees outside. As always happens, something I read got me thinking, ideas ping-ponged around in my head, until I thought I’d try to chronicle them here.

“…Then, without missing a beat, you wipe a snotty nose, change a dirty diaper, defrost the hamburger in the microwave, start the spaghetti sauce, sew a button on a coat, help someone with her homework. You pause for a moment, wondering what they would do if you weren’t here and realize in the same breath that you’re awfully glad you are. Much to your astonishment it occurs to you that you must posses some aspect of allure because everybody in the house gravitates to you. In the middle of the night, they call your name.”

Somehow that exert summed up in my imagination what motherhood is. I want it to be all lace doilies and roses, and instead it seems to be snotty noses and dirty dishes. But that is exactly where the memories are to be made. While I desire that my children have a calm and orderly environment to learn and grow in, it may not come to fruition in the way that I imagine. The allure of motherhood actually lies in the acts of self sacrifice and denial. It lies in the cheerful giving of ourselves for our family.

“There is in the world no function more important than that of being charming, to shed joy around, to cast light upon dark days… is not this to render a service?”
~Victor Hugo

We find our daughters to be charming as they go about their lives being babies. When they are alert, and interested in the world around them, commenting on the things which they observe, we find them charming. When the daughter becomes obsessed with her hurt knee, or her desire to watch a certain movie, or play with a toy which her sister is enjoying at that moment, she looses her charm. The charm of childhood comes from forgetting herself and just living.

True charm and allure can only be attained by transparently being what God has made us to be. Charm and allure can be learned, in the sense that one can learn good manners or gracefulness, but it always comes from the root of self sacrifice. To sacrifice self is to esteem others as greater than ourselves, which is true Love. To truly Love, is to truly Live. As Emily Dickinson puts it, to Live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else, and that is allure.

Well, we made it to the big Non-Binkster party. Which also happened to be a birthday party for all the spring birthdays in our family, including:

Bethany

Kristina

Hannah (in the blue hat)

Mom

And Dan

Grandma Pat supplied the party hats, saying that it’s not a party without hats!

Aunt Anna gave Kinsley her very own Non-Binkster Party cake, with Winnie the Pooh.

The girls had a tea-party which for some reason seemed to involve swimwear.

After all the festivities have died down, Kinsley is still doing well as a Non-Binkster big girl. She asked Dan the other day “Is there a Non-Binkster Heaven?”

Ah, evening. Undoubtedly my favorite time of the day. Yes, that clock in the background reads 12:46. Sometimes, evening begins a little later at our house. We were having a serious withdrawal episode last night, which lasted till a little after midnight, but we made it through unscathed.

Dan and I succeeded in getting both girls down, got the dishwasher loaded and started on it’s task, checked the email, then crept softly to our bedroom, feeling as if we were suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome. We had been looking forward to a bit of Wodehouse before bed, but after a whispered conversation, we decided we’d better snatch whatever sleep we could, instead. Settling into bed, Dan reached for the lamp switch, just as we heard Sophie’s tiny little trumpet voice call out in the darkness “Mama? Mama!”.

Sometimes, I don’t know how I would survive the girls if it weren’t for my husband in the foxhole with me. Of course, God is in it all with us, too.

Well, it’s Day Three of the Non Binkster Week. We’ve had two meltdowns today, but seem to be making it through the withdraws fairly well.

Today’s event (which Kinsley has taken to calling “The Small Non Binkster Parties” which are not to be confused with the “Big Non Binkster Party” to be held on Sunday) was a trip out Marme and Granddad’s, stopping by the office first to have lunch with Papa.

Marme’s garden is starting to bloom with all sorts of beautiful flowers. As it turned out, Sophie was more interested in meandering through Marme’s stone walkways with me then Kinsley was. Kinsley was interested in swinging.

Or “feenging” as Kinsley calls the sport.

Sophie would squat, study each flower intensely, touch it, and move onto the next.

After a while, she lost interest and wanted to “feeng” too.

Sophie made a very important discovery. Her shadow. She squealed at it with glee, at which point Kinsley announced “Mama, we are so excited!”

We’ve been attempting to get the girls outdoors, now that the weather is becoming more agreeable. Papa is planning to start beehives this spring, and has spent a good deal of time explaining what it is that bees do. Kinsley has apparently taken it all in, because she explained to our librarian (in great detail) how it all works.

This morning, she was reading an Usborne book of spring-ish things, and was commenting on how the flowers have to grow so that the bees can carry the pollen. It got my wheel turning about a little science lesson which she might be interested in, so we pulled on our crocs and set out to the back yard, armed with two pots, a spoon, some Larkspur seeds, the Usborne book, and of course, the camera.

After waving at the neighbor’s dog, sampling the various grasses, and searching for a good spot with soft dirt, we settled in. I read over the page about how a seed grows, and then helped the girls fill their pots with moist, sweet smelling soil.

Kinsley dreamily pressed her soil into her pot, commenting about Cardinals and Robins.

Sophie packed her soil into the pot with much intensity.

I gave them each several seeds to put in their pots…

…and then dug out a bit of soil to sprinkle over the top. At this point, we found an earthworm. The girls were delighted and terrified at the same time. In an odd way, it made me think of all the people throughout the Bible who found themselves face to face with an angel. Don’t you imagine that they would feel a mixture of terror and delight? Anyway, I tried to explain what a worm does, put I think I lost ‘em on that one. They were too busy squealing with laughter and jumping backwards to get away from the worm to listen.