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You know, the intentional summer list. We're working on it. Here's progress:
#2
Katie did it:-)! Pretty much all by herself. And the mistakes? She shrugged, smiled, and said they didn't bother her one bit. Good girl! (She does not get that from me.)
#13
A big deal. A very big deal. But he's quiet and understated and we'll just go with that. (But really, it's a huge deal.)
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Since my reading is much the same as it was two weeks ago and I just gushed about it yesterday, I thought I'd share Stephen's and Nick's summer reading lists today.
Stephen consulted reading lists from local prep schools to come up with his summer list. Most of his books are on Kindle. His current read, The Hobbit, is a well-worn favorite from our shelves. is reading:
Nicky chose his books from volumes already on our shelves:
Stone Fox (this is my favorite book to give to a child who is just ready to spring into chapter books. It looks like "real" chapter book. And it is. But the print if farily large, the pages small, and the book easily read in an afternoon. A great confidence builder!)
Niagara Falls or Does It? (written by Henry Winkler, who is dyslexic, with a kind heart towards dyslexic kids)
The Case of the Baker Street Irregulars
In my happy little knitting world, I'm still making very slow progress on my To Eyre shawl. I'm coming around the bend to the decreases in front, so maybe by the weekend it will be finished. I'm kind of bummed to see how small it is, but I'm thinking about adjusting the numbers and knitting it in denim for fall soccer games. (Actually, I'm waiting for a friend of mine to adjust the numbers and knit it bigger and then I'll just do what she did;-) This one is a pretty little capelet kind of wrap. Not quite sure what I'll wear with it? And I guess I need a shawl pin. Where does one purchase shawl pins?
Below, please smile with Karoline, who is ever so happy with her newly seamed Baby Surprise Jacket. I didn't seam it. Alas, working with cashmere so much seems to have sensitized me further to cashmere. This jacket makes me wheeze. When I took it out so that a friend could show me how to seam it, we both noticed that the same allergy that was present when we visited the yarn store was back with a vengeance. So, she seamed the whole thing for me. Still pondering buttons and gearing up to highly medicate and weave in all those ends. Karoline absolutely loves this sweater. Her appreciation makes it so worth it.
Go visit Ginny for more knitting and reading tales. I've settled into a Wednesday afternoon tradition: a big cup of tea and enough time to myself to click through a big bunch of the links at Ginny's. I am enriched by the yarns shared there.
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Outside My Window
Four little girls have been happily playing all day long, despite ridiculous heat and pesky big brothers.
I am Listening to
Nothing right now, but I've been listening to a book on Kindle all day long.
I am Wearing
A simple t-shirt and seersucker capris.
I am so Grateful for
the kind words about this post. Your comments on Facebook and your emails are treasures. I'm privileged, particularly, to hear your stories of grace.
I'm Pondering
"Providing the right stuff--opportunities, shoes, private schools, skating lessons, etc.--has become the gold standard for many parents when it comes to excellent parenting. Since each of us longs to be the best mother possible, we quickly ride the same train in order to be better. The problem is, we are duped. Rarely do kids describe their mothers as being fabulous moms for the material things they provide. When I ask adult children about their parents, they talk about their mothers' greatness in terms of their kindness, affections, and caring. (Yes, and they even describe their favorite foods their mothers made.) Young kids talk to me about their moms' moods, how fun they are or whether they are crabby. They don't boast about their shoes, their schools, or the sports they play when talking about their mothers. They talk about their moms, not what their moms give them. 10 Habits of Happy Mothers
I am Reading
10 Habits of Happy Mothers. Good stuff here. Really good stuff. I'm listening on Kindle. This book is so packed with great wisdom. Together with Simplicity Parenting, I think these are the best of parenting books. 10 Habits isn't a parenting book as such, but if mothers employ these 10 habits, they will be excellent mothers. And happy ones, too. So good I'm seriously considering a book study.
I am Thinking
about asking some small businesses and Etsy crafters if they'd like to sponsor this blog. Let me know if the thought appeals to you. I'm shooting for the beginning of July...
I am Creating
~A Baby Surprise Jacket Ginny came and helped me sew the seams together. Still working on button options.
~To Eyre shawl. Oh, I so love, love, love the process of knitting this one. The yarn, the pattern, it's all good. And nearly finsihed
~These skirts. Four, so far, as we made Gracie's this morning, in time for a midmorning tea party. There is another one cut and ready for Katie to sew later today.
On my iPod
Not much new. I'm listening to my Kindle these days and really impressed with the audio. I kept it with me while I sewed and then, all afternoon, as I've decluttered in the bedrooms with a vengeance, I've listened. The sound quality is very good.
*Just to clarify: I'm listening to the Audio Book version from Audible on my Kindle. I'm not listening to the Kindle text-to-voice version.
Towards a Real Education
I suppose I should put down the knitting and the sewing and start writing lesson plans. Next week. Definitely.
Towards Rhythm and Beauty
I am in love with summer rhythm. In love. The morning rhythm is good. The bedtime rhythm is peaceful and happy. I'm so in love with this rhythm that I might write a whole post about it.
To Live the Liturgy...
The rosary on tape is part of my little girls' bedtime routine. We use an ancient cassette tape of a children's rosary produced by Lion Communications. I've searched high and low for these online and never found them. Anyone know? These rosary tapes are my very favorite and those songs are etched into the fond memories of all my children. One of those songs was even my "labor song" when Mary Beth was born.
I am Hoping and Praying
for Elizabeth deHority. She is constantly on my heart and in my prayers. She needs you now. Please, please pray with me.
for a friend for whom life has been exceptionally difficult and lonely
In the Garden
We have enough basil for our first batch of pasta pesto tonight. Good thing, too because I forgot to defrost anything else.
Around the House
Much decluttering. Everywhere. New calendar season, new season of life. Time to clear the clutter.
From the Kitchen
With the demise of our spare refrigerator, there has been a drastic shift in shopping and planning routines. I can't shop in the quantities I need to for the week because we don't have the storage space. There are 11 people eating here, three meals a day. So, we're shopping every three days and re-thinking things a bit.
One of My Favorite Things
The smell of the room when I'm steaming cotton lawn.
A Few Plans for the Week
more clutter conquering
more crafting
that's about it...
Picture thoughts:
{These is Gracie this morning. She wasn't here yesterday so she didn't get in on that photo shoot. We made her skirt this morning.)
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Katie and I started sewing yesterday afternoon. We made her skirt first. This is a super easy pattern. I was happy to discover that I actually remembered a thing or two from past attempts to sew. The pattern was a good one with which to get started. We learned all sorts of things about our machine and we made all sorts of mistakes had all sorts of opportunities to learn something new. See those cute "design elements" we added down the back? They may or may not hide some mistakes evidence of lessons learned.
Karoline's skirt is leftover Heather Bailey fabric from my last foray into sewing, which was four years ago when Karoline was a stationary, quiet baby.She's so over-the-top excited about this sewing thing that I think there are lots of ribbons and ruffles in her future. I was pretty bummed to find that my local fabric store no longer carries Heather Bailey (or Anna Maria Horner or Oliver and S or pretty much anyone else who has inspired me online). Maybe the store in Charlottesville will be more fruitful in our search to start the stash. And I'm really hoping you will tell me your favorite online sources for fabric and ribbons.
Sarah Annie's skirt is made from what was left after I overbought for Katie. Yay for tiny little girls! She just loves to match someone. She wants ribbon, a bow, and a button on her back too. Maybe we'll add one later.
Tomorrow, I've promised Katie she can make one all by herself (sort of) and we have the fabric and ribbons for Gracie's skirt, too. . And I still have enough Heather Bailey for another skirt for Sarah.
How are you spending your summer afternoons?
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As I've watched college students graduate recently, I've noticed a distressing trend. Campus ministries are becoming better, teaching orthodoxy without hesitation. Genuinely Catholic colleges are brimming over with zealous young people.
And yet.
There is a harshness, a sort of snobbery happening. I watch in not a little horror and listen to what they are saying, as they measure other people by their overt acts of piety, while they size people up and discard them like the stuff of yesterday's recycling bin because they don't fit the new collegiate image of perfect holiness.
And I can just imagine that several years hence, they will go together with their young children to a playdate. They will meet another young mom at the park. They will inquire as to how many children she has. And when they discover that she has two, four years apart, they will say something sanctimonious about how they are open to God's plan for having children and has she ever heard of NFP? She will sit and wonder briefly whether she should tell them about the two years of cancer between the first birth and the second, about how desperately she prayed for this second child, about what a miracle he is. That young mom, with the two children widely spaced, will have just learned how some people of faith can judge one another. Litmus tests. Checklists. As she raises a family in the real world, she will see that attitude given voice over and over and over again, while Jesus weeps for his Church, broken and divided.
What's the opposite of gentleness? Harshness. Hard lines. Brittle rules.
So there you are, you all grown up and graduated and out in the real world! You've come so far. You've left behind the safety of campus life, the happy campus ministry, the structure of academia. You've gone and gotten yourself a real job in the real world. With a real cubicle and a good excuse to shop at that very fine career wear store. Good for you!
You have a zeal for the faith that can be spotted a mile away. You wear it proudly splashed across your chest on more than a dozen t-shirts collected over the years of vibrant Catholic education. And you've come to embrace all those devotions of our faith as you've learned of them in your coming-of-age. You are on fire for your faith and you are eager to go out there into the real world and tell everyone just how Catholic you are.
May I whisper a word or two to you?
Gentleness. Humility.
Out there, in the real world, be mindful of gentleness. Don't beat people over the head with your religion. Really. You don't win souls for Christ that way. Actually, come to think of it, you don't win souls for Christ at all. The Holy Spirit does. You just listen--quietly--for the prompting of the Holy Spirit. You just pray--fervently--that you can be His instrument. And please don't think for one moment that you are better than the guy who goes to lunch at lunchtime instead of going to Mass. You're not. You are broken and messy and in need of a savior just like he is. You have been given the extraordinary gift of grace and the blessing of faith. Given it. God gave it to you.
You didn't earn it. You don't deserve it.
Humility. You know God in the Eucharist. You are blessed. He blesses you. Now, go bless someone else.
You are going to meet so many new people in the next few years. No matter how high-powered your job, no matter how life and death your decisions, you are still and always a woman of God. You are called to be as gentle as the Blessed Mother. Here's a hint towards beginning relationships and continuing relationships with gentleness: Be the girl who walks into a room--any room, every room-- and says, "There you are! How are you?" Don't be the girl who bursts onto the scene and shouts, "Here I am! Be like me!" It's not about you. It's never about you. You are a servant of God. Serve.
I know how dearly you hope to find a Godly man who will sweep you off your feet and be the husband to the wife and the mother you feel called to be. I know you want him to be as committed to the faith as you think you are. Don't judge every person you meet with a checklist in hand. Whether it's the girl you keep bumping into in the cafeteria, or the guy who seems to ride the same bus route on your commute, don't issue litmus tests. And for goodness sake, don't do this:
Every guy I know gets slack-jawed when they watch this video ( which made the rounds last year and caused more than one married Catholic mom I know to laugh and cry and shake her head in disbelief). At first we thought it was a joke. Then, we started reading comboxes. Not a joke, at least not for some people. Who could possibly live up to this? A second-hand relic? Honey, if you think you are marrying a saint, you are in for a rude awakening. Marriage is our path to sanctification. We don't marry into sainthood; we journey towards it together.
Here's the thing: you're going to miss a lot of good people if you make up checklists like that. And you might just miss God's plan for you, both in terms of men and real, good girlfriends. Some of the best husbands and fathers I know couldn't have checked off more than one or two things on that video when they were fresh out of college. They grew into good, holy men, often because of girls who loved them, believed in them, and shared the grace of Jesus with them. And I know people who can check off everything on the video list and, sadly, they aren't very good husbands and fathers. While lots of people can follow the rules and lots of people can do numerous acts of piety and devotion, they aren't necessarily people after God's own heart. Following the rules does not automatically equal holiness.
And isn't it interesting how in that whole long list, not one act of mercy is mentioned? You want a good husband and father? Find a merciful one. Here's a far better checklist:
In the real world, those acts of mercy can take many, many forms. Perhaps you'll find him ladling soup in a homeless shelter. That would be an easy one to spot. Or maybe he's the young medical student who circles back after a long day of work to read stories to the pediatric patients. Maybe he's the guy who listens patiently as his grandfather goes on and on about a distant memory not quite still within his reach. Or maybe he's the one who's working fulltime and getting his degree because he dreams of a large family and wants the means with which to support them. Is he the guy next door? The one who "only" goes to Sunday Mass, but who also cheerfully picks up two young soccer players and drives them to practice three times a week because their mom is bedridden? And all the while, in the car, he is their friend. Their real friend. A strong shoulder to lean on in a time of crisis at home. Just a real good guy. Look for a real good guy. Someone who will journey with you.
Don't dismiss someone just because they aren't as outwardly pious as you are. Don't dismiss people at all. There's a big world of people out there. And some of those people are people from whom God intends you to learn. Even if, at first glance, it looks as if they aren't nearly as holy or smart or good as you are. Even if they aren't as holy or smart or pious as you are. They, too, were created in His image and each person--each and every one--is valuable. And worth your time. Don't discount someone because they aren't as up on theology as you are or because they don't "have religion."
Remember "knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." (1 Corinthinians 8:1)
And, to make it all trickier, zealous people have to guard carefully against Pharasaical sins and scrupulosity.
Whether we are growing closer to God or growing closer to people, it's not about checklists. It's about relationships.
Relationships beg coming alongside, walking together.
School is finished. Now begins the real work of cultivating a teachable spirit.
It's about listening.
It's about serving.
It's about nurturing.
It's about loving.
It's about a gentle spirit.
All the time.
It won't be easy. The gentleness thing. Pray for the grace to be gentle. We're all human, remember? As you go about your day in your busy real life world, you will brush up against broken, hurting, sinful real life human beings. They are just like you. And when you know that you are broken, too, saved by grace and gifted with faith, you will be genuinely gentle. You will look to people and assume that there is something to be learned from them, something good in them. You won't assume that because you are more pious, more obviously active in your faith, that you are closer to God. Instead, you will see Jesus in the poor, in the ordinary, even in the partier in the apartment next door.
"This was the method that Jesus used with the apostles. He put up with their ignorance and roughness and even their infidelity. He treated sinners with a kindness and affection that caused some to be shocked, others to be scandalized and still others to hope for God’s mercy. And so He bade us to be gentle and humble of heart." -- St John Bosco
And in the end, He won their souls.
Go gently into that real world. Grow gently into a woman of genuine faith.
And God go with you.
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Small Steps focuses on gentleness this month. Would you share your thoughts with us, let us find you and walk with you? I'd be so grateful and so honored to have you as a companion. Please leave a link to your blog post below and then send your readers back here to see what others have said.You're welcome to post the Small Steps Together banner button also.
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Lisa Hendey, Danielle Bean and I had a chance to have a meaty conversation this afternoon. We began by discussing teenagers and social media and finished with a look at nursing wounds and mulling over the importance of not making "idols" of human heroes of any kind. It's days like this--when time is set apart to have a good talk with good friends--that I am so grateful for Catholic friendships online. And I so dearly love to share them with you. Click on over. I pray you're blessed!
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I've settled into a summer knitting rhythm that I'm really loving. And, at the urging of two dear friends, I'm sort of believing that we can venture into sewing, too. So, in the knitting basket, my To Eyre shawl is taking shape. Those gentle, barely there ruffles make me so happy! I'm just ready to begin the back part. Maybe another week or so of this sweet knitting and I'll have a finished garment. I finished another garment this week, as well, but it's a gift so we'll just wait on those pictures.
Reading time is all about sewing. I retrieved Seams to Me from my shelves again. I truly do think this book a must-have. Anna Maria Horner offers such wonderful information along with her patterns. And the pictures are infinitely inspiring. I'm going to take this one along with me to the sewing store this weekend and see about making sure we're properly supplied in the basic necessities.
I also read Growing Up Sew Liberated this week. I want so much to love this book and I think I would if my children were all younger. Now, it sort of makes me pine for a baby or two. There's not much here for bigger kids. I love the look, the feel, the whole spirit of the book. And I do like Meg McElwee's blog. Sigh. The book is beautiful and truly well done and we'll find a thing or two to make our own, I'm sure. The art satchel and play capes caught our fancy.
Now for pink wonderful: Yesterday, Sarah Annie and I snuggled on the couch during a "funderstorm" and paged through Girl's World. Oh my! What darlingness! There's plenty in this book for girls up to middle school age. We're going to begin with this free pattern online (completely unrelated to the book) and then, I'm all in to Girl's World.
Go visit Ginny for more knitting and reading tales. I've settled into a Wednesday afternoon tradition: a big cup of tea and enough time to myself to click through a big bunch of the links at Ginny's. I am enriched by the yarns shared there.
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I promise you that I will not spend days and days cleaning my house before you arrive. I will not stuff the evidence of life lived here into far recesses of closet corners you will never see. I will not pretend that the life we live here is always ever perfectly ordered. I will not seek to impress you. Instead, I will endeavor to befriend you.
I will make sure that nothing gross will surprise you in the bathroom. I'll probably plump the cushions on the couch. I'll make you something good to eat and share with you endless of pitchers of green tea lemonade. Instead of coaxing my children to scour and shine, I will share with them the fun of expecting company.
I tell you all this--I'm doing it this way--because I trust you. And I want to be your friend. I trust that you are coming to spend time with me, not to judge me or take notes or compare me to anyone else. And I promise you that when I come to your house, I'm coming for you--your company and that alone. I trust you with who I really am, imperfect though that may be. I trust that the half-finished paint job will make you smile in ready recognition that you have been there, done that, too. I'm going to throw open my doors--and my heart--and be real with you.
Because that's what friends do.
And you're my friend, in every sense of the word.
Love,
Elizabeth
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Today is the first day of summer. Why do I feel as if it's half over? My calendar is filling fast. There are lots of calendar items over which I have no control. Let's begin with 6 orthodontic appointments and the domino of followups. Nah, let's not. Let's put that off just one more day.
I've spent a significant amount of time lately pondering the living of an inentional life. Someone I love faces every new season and wonders if this one will be her last. And so, we talk about the important things one does with the time she has when she doesn't really know how much of that time there is. We talk often about being intentional. Every day.
But do I know? Can I know if this summer is my last summer? Can I know if tomorrow my whole world will change? Of course not. Only God knows if a child's seventh summer is to be his last summer, if a mother's hot August will predictably melt into a mellow September, if tomorrow will be a sun-dappled day of delight or a gray goodbye. Only God knows.
In hindsight, I can see that last summer was my very last summer with a baby. Sarah Annie is most definitely a little girl. I intend to not dwell on empty arms (my arms are not so often genuinely empty anyway) and to think instead of free hands. Hands to go and do and make those things that truly I could not with a babe in arms. My first summer with free hands.
I promise this did not set out to be a heavy post. It's just an echo of Sarah's thought. Let's not let summer slip through our hands before we've had a chance to consider how glorious they are, each tiny grain of sand that is time.
Enough pondering. I aspire towards a summer that honors the gift that time really is.
I'm sure there's more. Katie and Gracie and Karoline have been making a list for days now...
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Ever since The Fr. Corapi Matter became fodder for the blogosphere and Facebook and Twitter, I've avoided it. Really, really avoided it. Not reading comentary, not reading comments on the commentary. I haven't heard his statement, though I've had the gist of it explained to me by a friend who knows why I'm avoiding the whole mess.
About six years ago, a new (to us) priest rode into town. Over the time he was here, he behaved in a manner unbecoming a priest. Lots of families "experienced" this behavior firsthand. Phrasing things delicately here. It's a long story--one I will never tell publicly--but in the end, an entire community of faith was scandalized. Countless families were hurt. "Ah," you object, "how can you say that? How can you just make those claims? Just throw them out there like that? What proof have you? Maybe he's just a really friendly guy and you misinterpret?"
In this case, the claims proved themselves. He is no longer a Catholic priest. The former choir director is no longer married to the father of her three children. And they are going to be married this summer. You can imagine, if you allow yourself to go there, how the children of this neighborhood do question when Former Father picks Former Choir Director's Children up from school. Those are difficult questions to answer.
The teenaged questions are much, much harder.
And the grown up questions? They will not be answered adequately on this side of heaven.
There's a whole lot of hurt here in this town. A whole lot. And Fr. Corapi? It just opens a not-even-close-to-healed wound.
So when my friend insisted on giving me the quickest version of the story that she could (insiting that I really can't work in the Catholic press and bury my head in the sand--good point), I was very grateful that she closed her little speech with a link to this post.
Matt, Patrick, thank you. I had no idea how much I needed to laugh.
You guys get it. You really understand. And you do that guy thing--where you heal very real pain with a little levity.
Good for you.
Good for all of us.
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That day is forever etched in our memories. But even more, that example is forever etched in our souls. And we are grateful.
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Outside My Window
It's one of those days that can't decide if it wants to rain. At least it's not unbearably hot. I don't really mind the clouds.
I am Listening to
Some sort of jazz mix at Starbuck's. When working in the neighborhood, I much prefer Panera to Starbuck's, but it's mighty crowded at Panera at lunchtime. Need to re-think this time/location thing.
I am Wearing
Poplin shirt, khaki capris. Summer uniform:-)
I am so Grateful for
my husband.
I'm Pondering
from Small Steps, June 7~
Think: Just as He gives the gardener the skill to tend rare and delicate plants while fertilizing them Himself, so He wishes to use others in His cultivation of souls.~ St. Therese
Pray: You are the Master Gardener. Help me to be diligent. Teach me to prune and to weed so that my soul bears abundant fruit for you!
Act: Begin a summer art journal with your children. The night before, set the breakfast table with colored pencils, markers, and watercolors. Surprise each child a new, spiral bound sketchbook. Start by sketching plants in your yard or your newly-planted garden. Set aside time to update your garden journal once a week. Make art journaling part of your your shared experience. You do it too! Vary the media: try collages, doodle-fests, vegetable printing.
I plan to do this tomorrow morning. I have a half dozen posts on Gentleness, the June Small Steps virtue, all hanging out in my drafts folder. I'm finding it difficult to write about gentleness without sinning against gentleness. I've long considered myself pretty gentle--and I think I am, with children--but my struggle to write on this month's virtue has me re-examining my own lack of mastery. Anyway, that's what I'm pondering, for what it's worth....
Seams to Me. Again. This time, I'm reading every.single.word. I'm taking notes and I'm making lists and I'm seriously considering a new sewing machine.
10 Habits of Happy Mothers. Good stuff here. Really good stuff. I love to talk about books like this with my friend Linda, in particular. I'm reading this one and she's currently reading The Blessing of a B Minus. She's pretty sure I need the B- book. I'm pretty sure she needs the Meg Meeker book. No doubt we'll trade before the summer's finished.
I am Thinking
about asking some small businesses and Etsy crafters if they'd like to sponsor this blog. Let me know if the thought appeals to you. I'm shooting for the beginning of July...
I am Creating
~A Baby Surprise Jacket (All the knitting is finished and I even went and purchased buttons. But they're not right. If you know good online buttons sources, please do leave a link in the comments.)
~To Eyre shawl. Oh, I so love, love, love the process of knitting this one. The yarn, the pattern, it's all good.
~Some very concrete sewing plans that are the making of a major summer surprise. It all began quite innocently. Sarah announced to the world that she intends to learn to sew. And then she told the world how ridiculously hard that is. I could totally relate.
I love Sarah. (In real life, as my children are so fond of saying.)
So, I tried to talk her out of it. I told her I'd teach her to knit. Knitting is better;-). She persuaded me that sewing really did have its merits. In talking it out, I heard myself discovering how truly important it might be to one daughter in particular that I learn to sew with her. And, truth be told, I do agree that sewing rocks. But I've never managed to learn how to sew. So we agreed that we'd learn to knit and to sew. Because we're like that: if doing one is hard, doing two must somehow be easier.
To that end...
~I'm beginning to create a craft nook. Katie and I have spent significant time looking at craft rooms, sewing rooms, studios and such online. When we moved into this house, we designated a room in the basement as the craft room. And it might one day still be one. But it's got some stirkes against it right now. (Shh, don't tell anyone, but Mike's home office would be just perfect. And, well, he hasn't worked from home for nearly five years now.) Do you have a favorite online dream studio? One like Heather Bailey's? Leave me a link. Katie and I love fodder for dreams.
On my iPod
Brad Paisley's new album. And Keith Urban's, too. It's summertime.
Towards a Real Education
Patrick's report card arrived. Remember how worried I was last fall, when he was suddenly a student at a boarding school, with four days' notice and nothing but homeschooling behind him? He did us proud. I don't remember the exact number, but his GPA was over a 4.0 and his lowest grade was in soccer...
Towards Rhythm and Beauty
The rhythm of this summer reflects my ever-increasing awareness that
: I need time alone.
: my children need enforced times of quiet.
: we all need room and time and materials with which to create.
: summer doesn't mean we take a break from math every day.
: that life is short and every day is to be treasured and lived intentionslly and prayerfully.
To Live the Liturgy...
Back to the liturgy of the hours every day. During Lent, I focused on daily audio Bible. All. the. time. I'm still loving my morning Bible and knitting time, but the rest of the day has found its way back to the cadence of the Church.
I am Hoping and Praying
for Elizabeth deHority. She is constantly on my heart and in my prayers. She needs you now. Please, please pray with me.
for my teenagers. Growing up is such hard work.
for my dear friend Becca as she prepares to bring a new baby into the world. Becca brings a whole new dimension to the word "labor." This is going to be work, no doubt, but she will labor at this most important task with the same grace and dignity and faith as she does every small task of ordinary days. She's just like that. Won't you pray a wee prayer for Becca and that baby girl? Grace. Begging grace.
In the Garden
Our spring peas were taking over our small garden when it was time to plant tomatoes and basil. I whined a bit aloud, lamenting my lack of raised bed organic space. The Farmer's Wife suggested I stop complaining and plant in pots. I put the tomatoes in the garden and the basil in pots. The basil is thriving. Of course it is. She's a wise one, that Farmer's Wife.
Around the House
The laundry is all caught up. If you have more than three children, you will recognize this event for the rare miracle it is. Go bathing suits!
From the Kitchen
Big hits lately:
Baked Asparagus Risotto (H/T Elizabeth DeHority) to accompany Chicken Piccata (Patrick is back in the kitchen and cooking delicious meals while cleaning up as he goes. Got to love that about a kid.)
and Father's Day brunch:
Belgian Waffles with fresh blueberries and strawberries. We tried Bisquick's Gluten Free baking mix and found it to be a keeper. Hooray for waffles!
Spinach Frittata. I made this one up as I went along and didn't make notes. Will have to re-create soon.
Grilled Sausages and Grilled Bacon. The meat-eaters in the house declared it all good.
Orange Juice with Pellegrino (known in this house as "Ballerina Juice" because the curly one heard "ballerina" when first we told her about Pellegrino)
One of My Favorite Things
quiet mornings.
A Few Plans for the Week
~the summer revolving door begins to turn. Patrick is bound for Dallas and Mary Beth to the beach with a buddy.
~Farmer's Market on Wednesday to do a photo shoot for the summer issue of Faith and Family.
~art journals
~My Fair Lady on video to get ready for the stage version in July
~swimming with basketball buddies at the pool Christian manages.
Picture thoughts:
{These are a bit dated. Over Memorial Day weekend, we had soccer in three states. Michael and Nicky headed south to NC with our friend Luke and his dad, Ron. Luke's brother, Jack, plays with Stephen, so he and his mom and his twin sister spent the weekend in beautiful Poolesville, Maryland with Stephen, our girls, and me. And Mike and Patrick went to NJ. The girls (and Jack and Stephen) managed to have all sorts of fun. We even squeezed in some strawberry picking between games. Strawberry picture from my friend Mindy's iPhone. Soccer stud is Stephen on the farm fields I really love so much.)
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I’m sitting at Starbuck’s, trying desperately to shut out the sounds around me. I’ve left my home this morning — 15 children there, mine and those of visiting guests. I thought it would be quieter here. Instead, there is a trio sitting nearby, a man and two women. They are discussing their divorces, the marriages that preceded them and the divorces of their own parents, too. For a moment, I stop trying to write, stop trying to think. And I listen. Listen to the pain — the pain of abandonment in childhood, the pain of abandonment in middle age. And now they are talking about their children, split between two households, about broken dreams and dashed hopes....Read the rest at the Catholic Herald, please.
*fixed the link:-)
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About a month ago, I was standing in front of the yarn aisle in my local Michael's store. A woman nearby was enthusiastically explaining to a stranger that knitting has a chemical effect on the brain. "They've done studies, you know. When you knit, you get into a zone, and your body releases endorphins that calm you. Also, your brain organizes itself. It's the most amazing thing. And it's addicting." The man taking in all this information left with enough acrylic yarn to make a man-sized sweater.
I keep meaning to go research the claims.
I didn't knit at all last week. Early this week, I picked up Mary Beth's project because I couldn't bear to hear her whine about ribbing one minute more. I like to do 1X1 ribbing. So I ribbed the better part of 18 rows, wheezing, because for some reason, the DK weight of Belle Organic bothers me much more than the Aran weight. And of course, Aran is being discontinued.
That has been a running theme the last couple of weeks. Seems like everything I've swatched and loved is being discontinued. I just don't get it. I'd link to the yarns, but what's the use? You'll love them, too and be sad with me?
Her ribbing finished, I wanted to knit something calming. Something I was sure wasn't going to cause an allergic reaction. Something that wouldn't stress me about size or fit. Something maybe for me. To wear for the next date night?
A few weeks ago, I ambitiously bought some Misti Alpaca Tonos Pima/Silk for a sweater for me. (There's no alapaca in it.) I think it says it's DK weight. I can't get DK gauge with it to save my life. I have been obsessing over this shawl pattern. It's just so lovely and simple and beautiful. Gentle, gentle ruffles. And gentle is the theme for June. I found that I could hold the pima/silk doubled and almost get gauge for the shawl. So I forged ahead. I made it all the way through the left front, just absolutely loving the genius of the pattern and the way the yarn was coming alive as it was knit into gentleness.
I have found that the rhythm and the yarn and the experience of knitting is everything the Michael's saleswoman promised. Knitting this shawl restored my sanity with a passion:-)
This morning, I got up and listened to my current read while knitting. And I missed a K2tog. It's a wonderful book by Dr. Meg Meeker, who wrote such excellent books as Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters and Boys will be Boys. The book is everything the title promises: The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers: Reclaiming our Passion, Purpose, and Sanity. She writes from the shared experience of motherhood with common sense and wisdom. I've been thinking (as I'm knitting) about this musing of Kate Wicker's. I know from where Kate writes. Been there, lived that. would have done some things differently had I known. Meg Meeker knows. This book is for Kate.
And for me. It was during the chapter on friendship that I totally messed up my knitting. I didn't notice the mistake until several rows later and I went back and tried to unknit. But those short rows and my inexperience were my unravelling. I'm going to have to take it all out and begin again. I remind myself that all was not lost in the process. I did genuinely enjoy the knitting for knitting's sake.
Back to the book: this book is the handbook. It's the wise friend, the good idea, the common sense advice we all need at some point or many points in our mothering journeys. I plan to write more on it when I finish. For now, go buy this book. Actually buy two. Keep one and give one away to a mom you know. Any mom. We all need it.
I did receive my hard copy as a review copy, but in the end, I bought it anyway, to listen to the audio version on Kindle. I will continue to listen and to knit, paying closer attention to both the book and the yarn the second time around.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Go visit Ginny for more knitting and readling tales. I've settled into a Wednesday afternoon tradition: a big cup of tea and enough time to myself to click through a big bunch of the links at Ginny's. I am enriched by the yarns shared there.
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He whisked in on a chariot, swept me off my feet, and took me away from all of this.
And it was perfect.
Remember? It had been one of those weeks. For several weeks, actually. And at the end of that particular week, he knew. He just knew. He knew better than I did that we needed to re-focus. On each other. Somehow, he understood that if we could just spend several hours, just the two of us, all would be right with the world.
I told him the other day that heretofore the most romantic thing he's ever done was to renew my driver's license without me even knowing it was in danger of expiring. Lest you think that's a small deal, I will divulge that five years prior, I had neglected to renew my license in a timely manner, so--nine months pregnant with my fourth baby--I had to go to DMV and take the test again. The written test. And I failed it. Which made a very pregnant woman cry. So, when it came up for renewal the next time and I was very pregnant with our sixth child, he snagged it from the mail, filled out the forms, paid the fee, and presented me with a shiny new license a couple of weeks later. And I cried. With relief.
But I digress.
Last Friday, he outdid himself in the romace department. We went out to dinner. When we arrived at the white tablecloth restaurant where they have adults who wait on the tables instead of teenagers (good thing, too, because I'd had my fill of teenagers), they took us to a table set back in an alcove. With a curtain. Our own private little room, just as he'd requested. It was quiet and I could hear every word he said. I could watch his face in the soft light and hang on every detail. The dearest face in all the world looked back at me.
The food was truly delicious. I kept reminding myself to slow down, lest it all be over too soon. The food, the quiet, the light, the privacy, even the white tablecloth. Back to every word he said: I wondered a little about the words. It was a date night, after all. Was I allowed to talk about our children? I mean, it was a date. Just us. Turns out it was fine to talk about the kids, good even. And all the other things I wanted to say? He already knew them, without my even saying a word. He knew them and he spoke the words I so wanted to hear in reply. Spoke them with heart. That dear face leaning close to mine so that I wouldn't miss even the slightest whisper.
We left the restaurant and walked around the Town Center, holding hands and taking in the sights. I reminded him that we'd had two other dates there: one the day Clinton admitted he lied about "that woman." And one when we went to pick out birth announcements before Stephen was born (he's twelve now). We don't get out much.
On this night, though, we got out. He'd arranged for us to stay the night at a nearby hotel. A beautiful hotel. With crisp sheets and room-darkening shades and air conditioning. Just us. Tangled together all night long without any chance that we'd hear the thundering approaching steps that people so often refer to as "the pitter-patter of little feet." It was just us. And us was more than enough. After 23-plus years of sharing time and space with the people we helped to create, I was a little worried about what would happen when it was just us. We are a team and we work together exceptionally well; we give 110% towards raising these children. It's almost always about them. And rarely about us. So, what would happen when the "them" was taken from the equation?
What happened was magical. Truly magical.
Perfect.
I slept so well, so soundly, so peacefully--until 9:15 the next morning when room service rapped on the door to announce the arrival of the lightest, most savory fritatta and the plumpest, most beautiful berries in maple glaze. We breakfasted in bed and laughed at texts from various children left at home. We lingered in the glow of perfect, magical us.
I returned home relaxed and happy and very much in love.
Still.
Disclaimer: No toddlers were weaned for the making of this perfect date. Sarah Annie survived just fine.
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I am.
I have a dozen or more posts in my head, things I really do want to share here. But.
But last week was whirl of company, crisis, and chaos--the likes of which I've never experienced in nearly 23 years of parenting. And.
And I went into that week after solid week of battling--and losing to--a particularly nasty respiratory bug. It lasts forever. I'm still wheezing. And it's still slowly making its way through the family. And it lasts forever. Did I already say that?
Did I mention that our air conditioner died last week and it was 102 degrees outside? It did. I had a fever. And it was 98 in my bedroom at 11:00 PM.
My house looks like I was sick and then I had company, crisis, and chaos.
I never can really sit to write when my environment isn't in order. Even if I leave my environment and go to Panera to write. {Panera, where I have of late received crisis and chaos telephone calls.} Anybody notice that I only posted once last week? And since then, it's only been guests posts? Yep.
No order. No blogging.
Ducking out now, to think and think and think.
While I vacuum.
And mop.
And fold laundry.
Maybe tonight I'll write.
Or maybe not?
Just wanted you to know I have been thinking about you.
Hope your summer is off to a calm, peaceful, orderly beginning. :-)
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About a week ago, my mom was asked by one of her readers if I would write guest post on her blog about how to achieve the success that I have in soccer. My first thought was, “why me?” Then I thought about the year I’ve had and I realized that I’ve become a role model to young players. That’s a very cool, very scary feeling. So here it is: the keys to my success in soccer so far.
I’ve played soccer since I could walk, kicked anything and everything I came across that resembles a ball and I’ve watched countless games. I don’t remember choosing soccer, but rather it seems to have always been part of me. To this day, about twice a year, my dad asks me flat out, “Do you want to play soccer anymore?” My response has always been "yes" and I can’t see myself not playing any time soon. That brings me to my first key to success: I love to play.
When I started my soccer career at age 4, playing for the under-6 “Blue Devils,” I couldn’t wait for Saturdays because it was another chance to “make the other team cry.” Yes you read that right, I loved to make other kids cry. Today as I sit here I have (almost) the same thoughts going through my head. Only a few more days until I get the chance to win. The phrase that comes out of the mouth of youth sports coaches that annoys me most is, “It’s not about winning.” For me, its a little bit about winning; winning on the soccer field, winning in basement hockey, winning in backyard soccer, and even this past year, winning in the classroom. Now I realize that is not the perfect attitude for youth sports and I probably shouldn’t have that mentality; but I do and that is the second key to my success: I’m a competitor.
The third key is something that has always been totally out of my control. I was born with a tremendous amount of God-given talent. Raw talent can take you a long way; I’ve seen it. However, you will most definitely hit a brick wall if you rely on talent alone. In my very first years of travel soccer, I played with a kid who had even more talent than I did (although I would have never admitted it). We were the ultimate duo-- we won every tournament there is the win in the Washington, D.C. area. It wasn’t so much the winning though; it was how we were winning- nobody could play with our team and we won almost every game by 5 goals or more. That was from U-9 to about U-12. Right now he is a high-school dropout and doesn’t play soccer anymore. So what was the difference between the two of us? I had a huge support system behind me. He didn’t. That may be the most important part of my success. I have parents, siblings, coaches, friends, and one special priest who have pushed me to my limits and told me that if I worked hard I could achieve my dreams. This was the most important part of my success. Without people who have your back you have no chance at being successful.
My dream has always been to play in a World Cup and I had a chance to do that this year. I left my family and moved to Bradenton, Florida to train with the under-17 National Team all year in preparation for the U-17 World Cup in Mexico this summer. Last week, they cut the preliminary roster of 28 players down to the 21, who will represent the United States in Mexico in a few weeks. That’s where I was let go. I trained hard all year and in the end, I was told I wasn’t good enough. Bummer. I sat in Bradenton and thought about what to do. I didn’t sit there very long. Reason one: I love to play. Reason two: I am a competitor.
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but you'll need to forgive the george noise in the background and my pneumonia voice...
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Just real quick, because real life is a bit overwhelming these days.
A lot of people living in this house this summer.
Ahem.
I am very, very slowly finishing this Baby Surprise Jacket. We have no air conditioning upstairs. It's 98 degrees outside.Pretty close to that inside. The whole knitting in bed during the NBA finals routine went pffft until the repairman comes next Tuesday. Instead, I'm dedicating my life to perfecting the art of lemonade iced tea and choosing and placing the ideal fan.
I've finished up around the outside of the jacket. (Mary Beth was the one brave enough to pick up the stitches and just get on with it already.) And then, emboldened by our success, we moved on to lengthening the sleeves. I see a bit of a closure problem on the horizon. Because I used the baby pattern with chunky yarn and made a jacket that will easily fit my four-year-old, the buttonholes are definitely off. Following theh pattern, I knit buttonholes on both sides. I am supposed to close holes on one side by sewing buttons over the holes I don't need. Problem is, that would truly throw off the lines of this sweater. The buttonholes are too far in from the sweater's edge. Pondering this one...
I'm reading Alethia, a new literary magazine by and for Christian Teens. I do hope this venture is successful, so please take a look and help to inform the Christian youth of this resource. I have three magazines to give away, so if you'd like to receive one, leave a comment below and I'll announce three winners next week.
That's all I've got for the day. Stay cool, my friends!
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