Thursday, December 30, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
I haven't written about my bike in awhile. Just in case you were wondering, I am still madly in love with her. Although, our relationship has changed in some ways. Just as the passage of time creates wrinkles and scars on all of us, so it has on my beauty. She has nicks in her paint and her skirt guard has faded to more of a cream, her basket liner is stained and she no longer holds a baby seat. But...just like each scar tells a tale about us, and as women we bear the badges of motherhood proudly (sometimes, wink wink), so each nick and stain tells a story about my bike.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Because this program is basically a four year program condensed into two years, we don't see him very much. And, that's OK, we knew that it would be this way going in, it just gets lonely sometimes. And with that being said, I ran away home...to my mommy and daddy, and YES, I DO still call them that. I will most likely still call them that as I wipe their butts and humor their dementia riddled tales of yore in the years to come.
I have been in my old room at the top of the stairs in the Lemon Drop House for almost three months now. I have shared laughter and tears with my family...but now it is time for me to go. Back to life...back to reality. In my brief time on this Earth I have learned some hard but valuable lessons, one of them being that, just like it was written a long, long time ago: for every thing there is a season. And while I am sad that this very special season with my parents is drawing to a close, I am looking forward to what the future will hold. Until then, I will give you the short list of what has happened in the last three months.
I got two flat tires, both of which had roofing nails in them. And while this may at first appear to be a bad thing, it afforded me some one on one time with Ellie on a very large playground while we waited for them to be repaired. And it was there that she dutifully taught me that not only can angels be made of snow, but they also come in the SAND variety!
I dropped my iPhone in the toilet. And, NO, surprisingly I had NOT been drinking! Lesson learned: Find more appropriate means of entertainment whilst in the loo.
I turned 30! I arose, looked at myself in the mirror, felt the same and went on about my business without much hullabaloo or fanfare. I DID however visit the Indianapolis Museum f Art and consume an alarming amount of carbs, both of which are my favorite things to do on MY day.
I watched Lilacs, poppies, peony's, and irises bloom with baited breath and a great deal of excitement. After such a long and laborious winter, I can't recall a spring I have enjoyed more.
I planted things in the Earth. I felt the dirt in between my fingers and underneath my fingernails. I remembered the satisfaction I derive in the cultivation of living things.
I watched six baby chicks grow into almost adults and in doing so, I watched Ellie draw from wells of compassion and maternal instinct that I did not know she possessed. It warmed my heart and soul to know that not one downy feather on their little bodies was harmed while under her care.
MY BABY TURNED ONE. Has it already been a year, Dear Readers? How is it that life passes me by with such speed? She has six teeth, can call cats and dogs, and sign many more things and possesses a spirit tantamount to that of Mount Vesuvius. Lion was an appropriate name for her because she is a fierce and all together wondrous being.
I talked to God on a golf course and was moved to tears on more than one occasion at the beauty of this life.
I lost the last of the baby weight, fit into pants long forgotten about and found myself once again, not in the skinny jeans, and not in the job, but in those quiet moments I stole away for myself.
Now as I pack our things and prepare for our journey back east, I can feel a sob threaten to rise in my throat and break through my granite facade. It hurts sometimes, this life. I wish I could have it all: My husband, my parents, a white pickett fence, and a happy family free from trials. But I know better. Experience has taught me that, much like diamonds, our characters are forged through great trials and sometimes great pain. I will miss this place, but I also anticipate the resuming of my life. MY. LIFE.
I will leave this place once again changed from the form in which I arrived, but then again, that's the point isn't it?
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
I mean, SERIOUSLY, is that not the cutest thing you have ever seen?
Now, I am new to the Permaculture movement, but from everything I've read thus far, I want to crawl inside of it and call it mommy. Here's an example: You plant a garden and let your chickens run through it eating pests and fertilizing it in the process. Kill three birds with one stone! I am so all over this it's not even funny. As soon as I get a yard that is. Now, what I want to know is Who's coming with me?
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
He, not realizing that I have two small chiclren to attend to on a nightly AND daily basis, is always trying to get me to stay up and watch hours of old English films with him. Me thinks I doth protest too much. Because I finally gave in two nights ago. And now I'm hooked too. GAH!
He was finally able to entice me with a series based on books that I had read as a youth. The name of this series is All Creatures Great and Small. I asolutely adored these books when I was young, but it was a hard sell to convince me to watch them now. The film is grainy, the lighting is poor; I had a dozes reasons NOT to watch any of them, but I let him talk me into one. JUST ONE EPISODE, I said. And then, despite, the film and the lighting and the difficulty understanding what those blokes across the pond were saying, I fell in love with them just as I had the books.
The series follows James Herriot, a country vet in England, as he begins his practice under the eccentric Siegfreid Farnon. This was an era before gloves, and it is certainly a sight to see Herriot elbow deep in a cow one minute and then sipping tea from fine english china the next, all cheerio and too right, chap.
If you like animals and think more women should wear dresses and more men should wear three piece suits and pocket watches, then these books or films are for you.
Things are still crazy around here as I try to work out a schedule for myself and the girls. Once again we're finding our rhythm, and over the next few days as we do that, my posting here will be sporadic, but I promise you that as soon as I have figured out once again how to get these girls to sleep at the same time, I'll be back at it again every day. Until then...I'd like to repost one of my favorites from the last time I was home. I hope you enjoy it.
Many years ago, when my parents took us to the 1800's farmhouse that they wanted to buy, I cried. It had no air conditioning and smelled like moth balls and remorse. Even worse was the location. It sat in a town outside of Indianapolis that had nothing to offer a nineteen year old girl with a penchant for the night life. Just small town, middle American charm nestled quietly in the midst of corn and soy beans.
Now ten years later, their loving, hand toiled restoration of this house has made it a place I treasure. It has been a source of respite for me in times of great hardship and pain. It is listed in the registry of Historical Places and once upon a time it was called The Lemon Drop House because the woman who lived here would leave a bowl of Lemon Drop candies just inside for the neighborhood children. Times have sure changed, huh?
Red Geraniums, a sign of summer. I used to to hate them and the way they smelled. Now, they are a beacon, a reminder of home. And when I pull up to the front of this house, they remind me of my family and that I am home.
These stairs. I have climbed them more times than I can recall.
Drunk, and very quietly in the middle of the night so as not to get caught.
Fast, two at a time, up to the top, to slam my door in youthful angst and protest at the dictatorship of my parents.
Wistful and swooning. In love for the first and last time.
Offering goodbyes as I left for what I thought would be the last time on my wedding night.
Up to the top again and again as I returned after Hurricanes, deaths, deployments, and babies.
I have knocked myself out running down these stairs.
And one time the mailman saw me naked because I was forever forgetting my towel as I made a mad dash up the stairs to my room.
After a decade, I know every place they creak and every loose spindle. And I know at the top is a room that will forever be mine. Where I will forever be their child.
A room full of books. A better place I cannot think of. Well, maybe if they added a movie popcorn machine it would really rock my world. On these shelves sit The Harvard Classics and from these books came the great enlightening of my mind. You can travel anywhere without leaving the room.
There is a dent on this sofa where my Father's butt has resided for the better part of the last decade. It is oddly comforting to fall into it and then to heave ho myself out of it in a rocking motion. Only not so much while I was pregnant.
Oh, the conversations that have been had on this porch.
Discussions celebrating the life of loved ones lost.
Pontifications about life, God, and things much headier than who Jennifer Aniston is dating.
I have sipped coffee and iced tea in this place and waved at neighbors bicycling past and finally realized that all the other things I used to think were important were just emptiness. And chasing the wind.
I washed my second child in the glow of the amber light to the tranquil sound of the rain on the honeysuckle vines. As I felt her soft skin and examined my aging hands against it, I pondered the journey I have made. I wonder why it took me so long and so many bumps along the way, to finally understand what this life is all about. I wonder if it was the only way to get me to appreciate it. Would these moments be as sweet if I had not experienced the bitterness of pain? Would I love so deeply if I had not felt the searing ache of losing so many? Would I enjoy a life unencumbered by material possessions if I had not lost everything? I can't answer these questions because I'll never know. But, however I got here, I am glad to be at this place. Content.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
I mean, come ON, if that lil thing doesn't make you scrunch up your face in delight and do a little dance of ohmygoodnesswookathiswiddweearsnoseandfeets! then I don't think I even know who you are anymore!