Category Archive

“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 celebrated my 25th birthday on Saturday, and it was wonderful!

Kinsley trumpeted the phrase “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAMA!” through out the day, being very careful to place her tongue between her teeth for the “th” sound in “birthday” and resulting in showers of saliva for anyone near her. Though the above video was created for Uncle Mark’s and Uncle Joe’s birthdays, I thought I’d include it here, to show the sweet pronunciation of the word “birthday”.

I read through some of my journal entries written on past birthdays, and was surprised by many things which I had already forgotten.

I received many sweet birthday messages from friends and family, which made me thankful all over again for the life God has seen fit to bless me with. I don’t feel any older, but my life feels fuller, richer, and sweeter than ever before.

Dan and I accomplished a few little “honey do” jobs, which we’ve been wanting to get to for some time now. And I decluttered. I hauled out over 12 garbage bags of accumulated junk. For my birthday, Dan (at my request) has hired a girl who cleans houses, to come and help me get to some things which I haven’t really cleaned since we began the project of having children. She’ll be coming this afternoon, and I’m so excited!

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!

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.

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.

We headed out early Saturday morning for a whirlwind weekend trip which included acting as delegates to the 9th Congressional District in Missouri, a baby dedication for my sister’s youngest daughter, a multi-family spring birthday bash, and a Non-Binkster Party.

After my brother left, my dad’s mother and step-dad joined the family party. Once again we cooked, we ate, and we enjoyed the girls.

At some point during all this visiting, Sophie discovered Marme’s marshmallow supply. She helped herself generously, taking one bight out of each marshmallow, setting it on the able, and returning to the pantry for more.

The sunset was absolutely beautiful one evening.

When my sister Hannah was about three years old, my family was dining at a restaurant in a large city fairly near home. Eating out has always been something of a special event in my family. We would dress in Sunday best, and be on our best behavior. So, on this occasion, when the table next to us was filled with rowdy, noisy, and sloppily dressed children, Hannah watched then in shock and dismay.

When we left the restaurant, Hannah exclaimed “Did you guys see those orphelans sitting next to us?!”

We asked her how she knew that they were orphans, and she said “Orphelans are those kind of children that run around in the woods with no clothes on, and are wild!”

Sometimes, my own daughter reminds me of an orphelan. A demanding, wild little orphelan. Take this for example. At Marme and Granddad’s house, she removes her clothing “cause I am hot!” and demands that she be swung by an uncle. First she demands, then if that doesn’t work, she wheedles. Wheedling seems to be most effective on uncles. As she was heading out the door with Uncle Jacob, I heard her say “Awe, I love you Uncle Jacob!”

On this particular day. Granddad was out making a minor repair on his truck, and so dressed up for Kinsley’s viewing pleasure as she swung.

On the third day the friends of Christ coming at daybreak to the place found the grave empty and the stone rolled away. In varying ways they realized the new wonder; but even they hardly realized that the world had died in the night. What they were looking at was the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth; and in a semblance of the gardener God walked again in the garden, in the cool not of the evening but the dawn.
~G. K. Chesterton The Everlasting Man

Photos from our Easter morning:

We stayed overnight with Dan’s brother and his family. We were up late dyeing eggs, laughing and listening to bluegrass…

Breakfast was Chocolate Babka (fast becoming a tradition for our family) a fresh citrus salad, eggs and bacon. And of course, lots of coffee!

The camera battery died, so I was only able to get a few action shots of the girls in their Easter dresses which Grandma Brand made for them.

I hope that your Easter was peaceful, and that you had time to reflect with awe on the amazing fact that death has been defeated for those that love Him!

The Easter Bunny
M. Josephine Todd, 1909

There’s a story quite funny,
About a toy bunny,
And the wonderful things she can do;
Every bright Easter morning,

Without warning,
She colors eggs, red, green, or blue.

Some she covers with spots,
Some with quaint little dots,
And some with strange mixed colors, too

– Red and green, blue and yellow,
But each unlike its fellow
Are eggs of every hue.

And it’s odd, as folks say,
That on no other day
In all of the whole year through,

Does this wonderful bunny,
So busy and funny,
Color eggs of every hue.

If this story you doubt
She will soon find you out,
And what do you think she will do?

On the next Easter morning
She’ll bring you without warning,
Those eggs of every hue.

Sophie turned one last Sunday. We celebrated with spaghetti and cake. All eaten with the bare hands if course! Baby Drew will be one this Sunday. Baby Drew’s mom is a very dear childhood friend of mine, and we found out we were pregnant about a week apart, did all of our prenatal visits together, Drew’s mom came to Sophie’s birth. She brought pineapple (a constant craving then, and through my whole pregnancy), and rubbed my back while I was in transition, so it’s just perfect that we get to celebrate the babies’ first birthdays together…

Get ivy and hull, woman, deck up thine house,
And take this same brawn for to seethe and to souse;
Provide us with good cheer, for thou knowest the old guise,
Old customs that good be, let no man despise.
At Christmas be merry and thank God of all,
And feast the poor neighbours, the great and the small.
Yea, all the year long have an eye to the poor,
And God shall send luck to keep open thy door.
Good fruit and good plenty do well in thy loft.
Then lay for an orchard and cherish it oft.
The profit is mickle, the pleasure is much;
At pleasure with profit few wise men will grutch.
For plants and for stocks lay aforehand to cast,
But set or remove them, while twelve-tide do last.
~Thomas Tusser (c. 1524-1580)

Dan’s brother Mark sent us a box of some of the loveliest pears we’ve ever seen. The delicate combination of red and green begged to be photographed. The bowl of pecans in the background were one of many gifts bestowed on us recently by my grandparents.

And his sister, Holly sent us this amazing little nativity set. It was handmade in Spain, and picked up on their travels there.

I think it may be one of my favorite nativity sets of all time. It’s simple, and yet elegant. And to think of all the tiny details, all added by an attentive someone’s hand, instead of a machine, or factory line!