March 6, 2012

• all over the place

   It’s -14 degrees Celsius (8* F) out there this morning.  But these girls in the sunroom think it’s July.  I want to hug them in their luscious redness.  Oh I love me some geraniums.

  

   

   

  Somehow last week between trying to get Liesl to eat her peas and Bryant to practice his piano music, between finding half-eaten hotdogs and dried up carrot sticks under the couch cushions and giving Alec driving tips,  I learned worked at learning some some hard but good lessons. I want to write about them, but it isn’t coming together just yet.

  I did learn this from Bryant, researching pioneer life online for a school report:  “I think I’m unhappy because I have so many things.”

  And from an elderly  lady named Olive at a bridal shower, I learned (after I blushed shyly and stammered several thank yous) that I should hand out compliments more freely.  In the tiny livingroom full of ladies and gifts, she clasped my hand and expostulated over how BEAUTIFUL I was. (laugh)  And not only that, I was “so intelligent looking!!”    Later she told Ruth what a gorgeous girl her granddaughter (who was sitting beside Ruth & was about 16) was.  And she told Tammy that she had just met her husband Tim and he was “SUCH a nice man”.  She also told Tammy that her mother in law is such a “cute little lady”.  Olive was wrinkled and going quite bald.  And maybe her eyesight was failing.  And later I learned that her husband was killed not so long ago when a gun he was holding went off accidentally.  But I want to spread kindness like that when I’m 80 and losing my hair.  I want to do it today too.  When I’m almost 38 and parenting these teens and tweens and babies.

  From the children’s teacher I learned that my sons are capable of hockey fights.  (not that I didn’t know it before)  I went into the school at the day’s end to put away the cleaning rags  I’d washed.  There I heard Mr. Mack talking to some poor parent about a hockey skirmish.  I tried to hum loudly as I put away my rags and hurried out.  And when I questioned the children about if someone got in trouble in hockey today, I was humbled with their response.  And l realized that Dan was the poor parent, recipient of the The Call.

  And there were other lessons too.  Some of them too raw to speak of right now.  But they were necessary.  And I want to see the good and beauty of them.

   

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  I’m dreading time change this weekend.  Finally mornings are light again.  I am sad to see that go backwards. 

  I’m reading The Irresistible Revolution by Shaine Claiborne.  He got serious and literal about selling everything and giving it to the poor and he called Mother Teresa and told her he wanted to come and help her.  So he did.  He went to Calcutta and worked in the Home for the Destitute and Dying, the first home Mother Teresa started. The radical & literal in me would so be doing the same if given the chance.

  Last night  Bryant found “Encyclopedia Brown Lends a Hand”, which has been missing since last summer.  The library has been so gracious, but this was The Week to pay for The Lost Book.  It was on the shelf with the picture books, plain as day. 

  I changed to xanga premium.  I was tired of the invitations to chat with Romanian girls.  And other stuff that was constantly popping up on my page.  I don’t know what kind of ads you were seeing from this site, but I apologize for anything offensive.  Now I’m wondering how to do a personalized page header–like with my own photos.  I can’t figure out how to do it for the life of me.

  Last Sunday evening when the pastorly calls we were going to make fell through, we stayed home and played “Dictionary” with the three oldest.  It was so much fun.  The caller finds a word in the dictionary (can be familiar or unfamiliar) and you each write a definition.  Make it up if you don’t know what the word means.  (it’s good to know what part of speech the word is.)  The caller writes the dictionary definition and that is entered along with all the home-made definitions.  Then you all vote for what you think is the dictionary definition.  You get points for choosing the correct definition and points for if someone chooses your definition.  Unknown nouns are the most fun.  We learned the meaning of “gourami” and “marc” and “inky cap” and “rampike” and “sot”  and “minaret” and I forget what else.

  Here is an example:

  Inky Cap:

  1) a species of African spiders of the Hensmant family, known for its red body and blueish legs

  2) a learned person who is teased for writing silly poems and riddles

  3)  a slang term used in fun to mock a person of studious interests

  4) a mushroom whose cap dissolves into an inky fluid as it decays

  5)  a cap for an inkwell, usually with a holder for a quill pen

  Now cast your vote.  Without google.   Or maybe your already all know what an inky cap is.  I didn’t before last Sunday evening.

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  Andre wonders what would happen if you planted a penny in the garden.

  And Natalia (playing hospital and wanting a deadly disease for a poor 1 year old patient) said, “Mom, what’s the sickest sickness you can think of?”

  And Liesl really, really wants a band-aid for her tongue right now.  She scalded it on hot peppermint tea this morning and that makes me full of mom-guilt.

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  Tomorrow marks 4 years since my brave soldier of a brother died from his brain tumor.  I struggle with how to deal with these dates.  I have written of him often.  More than enough, probably. I won’t this time.  But (maybe because of who I am), silence feels too much like forgetting. 

  

  He was loved.  And always we will miss the vibrant link of life that was him.

  I can just see how proud he is of his nephew, who got his learner’s licence recently.  We’re proud too.  Way to go, son.  I like having teenagers in the house and behind the wheel. 

  

  

   

  And that’s all for today.  Love you all.

  • 2:40 pm
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