but fairies

We were sitting in church, and the sermon was on forgiveness, so I don't know how it came up.
"What is a Devil?!" she said in an intense whisper.
I fumbled to answer. A fallen angel. Real, but invisible. Bad. Disobedient. Selfish.
"But WHAT is a devil??"

A liar.

"But fairies are good," she said, entirely too loudly.

twelfth

As I was taught in playwriting, a good story starts on a special day. Today is 12/12/12. First Real Snow came on Brett's 28th Sunday birthday. Norah sang "Twinkle Twinkle Christmas Star" in the Sunday School Program. My sister is visiting & we are painting house, baking, cleaning, and trudging though powdery white stuff just for fun. Not least of all, HOBBIT premieres at midnight in a little over a day.

...and Christmas comes in 13!

a good ache

Two weeks, three days in California; one week, two days to go. Five days until Thanksgiving... and Brett joins us!! 10 days to the anniversary of the day we defined our relationship. Three weeks one day until Brett's birthday. 27 days until The Hobbit Part One. 38 days til Christmas. 48 days until our Fifth Anniversary.

The main reason for coming to California was for Norah to spend time with her grandparents, aunts, and uncles. As a bonus, I got to come along and attend a friend's wedding, and as another bonus Brett gets to come for Thanksgiving! Our biggest sacrifice besides money has been to miss this dreary Minnesota month... and by 'dreary' I of course mean sweater weather, fall conferences, and the First Snow. But I continuously remind myself that it is worth it. People are more important than places.

Isn't it my lot to focus on the Good & Perfect, after all? This is a recuperation for my poor dust mite allergies (and perhaps the realization that my entire house needs a dust-mite-invasion-retaliation... yet how does one eradicate invisible microorganisms from a 130 year old house?). A chance to appreciate my husband anew. Opportunities for distance to make the heart grow.

Grow fonder.

Norah is adorable. She fumbles at learning new kinds of breakfast cereal. "Mama, what is this kind of cereal called that your mommy gave me? Not germs, we don't eat germs!" and then the next morning, "I want Prince Charmings for breakfast!" She came out of bed shirtless, because she wanted to "sleep how Papa sleeps." She is enthralled with all of my childhood books and toys, and we both delight in skype dates with her papa. She won my heart getting out of the car at Winston's baseball game and exclaiming "This is the best baseball game I ever seen!" before we had even reached the stands. She only occasionally asks to go home "to our red house." I try hard not to ache for it at all, but it's such a good ache. *smile*

Californiavember Photos

hunger games

We ran out of catfood yesterday, so this morning I put some dog chow in the cat's dish and poured a little milk over it, as Norah watched. After the animals were taken care of I asked Norah what kind of cereal she wanted: “Mommy, I want some of what Quorra's having.”

Norah pinched her finger in the storm door, so I wrapped a piece of ice in a towel and had her hold it against her hand. When her finger was better she wanted to eat the ice cube and I said okay. A couple minutes later, “I ate the whole ice cube and I'm STILL HUNGRY.”

breakfast with my little champion

you-hue

And now for blue.

rude bird

tiger lily

denim day

october orange

mum's the word

zucchini and beetle

our yard's umbrella

Sun, moon, dawn, dusk, fire, and fall. How I love that tangy tawny color.

"There is no blue without yellow and without orange."   -Vincent Van Gogh

to happen exciting

Here is something. I came across it today and am impelled to do something cheering with them in a creative way, because I love the wonderful characters of the Hundred Acre Wood.

I got my Mumford album today and am listening currently. While Norah eats crackers and apple, plays on the front sunshiny porch, breathing in the air-smelling-of-bonfires.

I do not doubt God is teaching me patience for the evidence is twofold: He gave me Norah, and He did not give me any other children yet. [Brett made me add 'yet' to the end of that sentence, but he's right.] I'm very thankful for patience. Really, very. Often angry about it, but not today.

  
“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"

"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"

"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.

Pooh nodded thoughtfully. "It's the same thing," he said.

book art

Over this past weekend I got to attend several bookbinding workshops that the Minnesota Center for Book Arts put on at the local arts center. I learned about paper, string, adhesives, tools, and techniques with a few friends, and together we got to make pamphlets, concertinas, stab binding, long stitch, and case bound books.

I'm hoping to make more to use as scrapbooks, sketchbooks, and Christmas letters. Out of just paper & string!

mermaid brite

While the guys went up north for a weekend of camping and fishing, we got a hotel suite and had a fun girls/kids weekend with tons of shopping, swimming, dining... and dying hair. My hair, to be exact. I've never dyed my mane before, but I've always wanted to color it blue, so my sis- and mother-in-law agreed to help me after the kiddos were in bed. Here are just a few shots for your viewing pleasure:

my brownish hair

Amy bleached, dyed, and rinsed five sections

...she's a pro!!

a few green patches to touch up

elanor and sedum

My four year old.

grand schemes

This is from a journal entry I made six months ago, but I thought it fit here.

to be poor*

live on a gravel road

use very little or extremely efficient electricity/energy

self-sustain

travel twice a year

eat healthfully

walk every day

make music every day

read (meditatively) every day

It's a list of Grand Schemes I made because I was tired of Endless Plans. Rather than a meter or a checklist, these disciplines are like a mission statement or a code to live by. I've "accomplished" all of them in limited ways, but my hope is to cultivate these and reduce all else. I should clarify that I desire to do these things in the context of relationship, not inwardly or for myself; but for God and my fellow beings, invitationally. Devotedly.

At bookclub last night we discussed the great value of allowing others to see our brokenness. Several women shared painful personal stories, but redemption flowed from them so beautifully and poignantly we were all changed by God's mercy. What I mean is that I don't want to paint a pretty picture. I want to let Him use my weakness and failure, my foolishness and my hurt, and I'm certain He will, and I won't like it.

*A note on the word poor:
I mean this more in the sense of blessed are the poor in spirit than having less money than the average citizen. Though I have an aversion to material excess, the definition of excess is murky. Case in point: the picture below was taken with my first ever non-hand-me-down camera.

click to enlarge ...er, super-size?

the day after a year

Now I'm 28, the age my mother was when I was born. We've been celebrating all summer, but the events that follow occurred on July 17 2012.
1. The Portage's historic bricks were painted Red Bay. Perhaps we'll replace the trim/windows and give the porch a fresh coat of crisp white next year, but I am fond of the sage...
2. I attempted to vacuum & prep the dining room for painting, and had a horrible asthma attack. Four meds and two hours later I was okay again, but the walls remained blank.
3. My family went to Starbucks for my free birthday drink. Norah made me about 28 birthday cards throughout the course of the day, dear girl.
4. Crafting commenced with Andrea and Jodi, and I nicked an idea off pinterest to add word art to a picture matte, while they made jewelry.
5. Pretty much everyone has been clued-in to my anchor obsession. Thanks friends!
6. Our sweet puppy Kaya Laurë turned one!
7. My wonder~FULL life continues...

before...       ...after!

love her expressions!

perseverence

Never never never never never never never give up. - Winston Churchill

Because if you do, your sewing machine from the 1970s won't produce two adorable scrap quilts for your cousins' new little ones.

five years

We drove through cornfields, saw lightning and rainbows. Played a game of euchre with Ben and Silas. I walked him out to his car in the parking lot of AmericInn. He said he had an early birthday gift, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a deck of red playing cards from his summer stock theatre job. But there was one more thing, and he couldn't wait until my birthday one week later.

He asked me to share the rest of my life with him.

I said I would share forever with him.

such stuff as dreams

Elanor will often wake up bright-eyed in the morning and cuddle onto my lap and tell me her dreams. (Aren't I lucky?!)

Except the thing is, her dreams often sound like this: "I had a dream that we go for a walk to the park and have a picnic," or "I had a dream that we went to the library and picked out two movies," or "My dream was about going to [insert friend or relative]'s house and making cookies." Inevitably, these visions have a way of coming true.

I wish my dreams could predict the future.

the sweetest words

"What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for Papa to come home. I hope he comes home soon, because I love him very much."

"Why do you love him very much, Mama?"

"Because he is honest and kind and strong and true and he works hard to take care of us and wants us to be happy."

"Is that why you love him?"

"Yes, it is."

incitement

I'm working on the layout, please don't hate me! Reading a post on offensive stories I found the following quote, and am subsequently doing this over the summer.


I once received a letter from a lady in California who informed me that when the tired reader comes home at night, he wishes to read something that will lift up his heart. And it seems her heart had not been lifted up by anything of mine that she had read. I think that if her heart had been in the right place, it would have been lifted up.

-Flannery O'Connor

water falling twice = minneopa

Went camping without the chicklet for the first time EVER.

Let's get married
Hold hands when we walk in the park
All right you can get a cat just as long as it barks
-The Proclaimers

The Minnesota River

This perfectly roasted mallow expresses my exact feeling
towards the man shrouded in smoke.

oh frabjous day

In the ten days since I last posted I have thought about what to blog quite a lot. Putting words to my life evades me these days. Brett's crazybus 80hr/wk schedule is halved now, what lightness! He not only gets to have supper with us each and every day, he also gets Fridays OFF for the next six weeks (Monday feels more like Wednesday and Thursday feels like Friday)! Unbelievable surreality! So thankful are we to "have" more of him. Summer planning can officially commence. More to come...

the shearing

and if you still can't get enough: here's a vid of Kaya and Vic playing!

abundance

Welcome to the last day of April, and the last days of separation from Brett, for this is his last full week of class. Only God knows how the next few months will unfold as he considers where to internship, switches over health insurance and bank accounts (for unrelated reasons), and we think of long term housing projects & traveling dreams we would love to save up for now but need patience to pay off student loans first.

Despite the sacrifices we make, this life IS my dream come true. I'm satisfied with under 30K/year for the rest of my life! I'm trying not to regret the educational choices we made to cause our student loans, for without them we would never have met. In the same way, I know God's plan for our family is perfect for us, and I choose to take joy in my one beautiful, precious, spirited Starflower.

 

 See how abundant God's provision is?!

sons of adam, daughters of eve

I love understanding things and making discoveries, but am a finite being, and therein lies the tension. Defaming lies and proclaiming Truth really resonate with me. Classification systems and personality analyses fascinate me but occasionally repel, because they are imperfect. I consider myself a recovering perfectionist, yet mathematical precision does not delight me half as much as diagramming sentences with living, breathing, changing words.

I am an introvert. And, I am an extrovert. I am a human being created in the image of God.

I appreciate Adam Young's 10 Myths. I love companionship. I love sharing. I love diversity. I hate crowds. I hate cities. I hate noisiness. I process by talking/writing and listening/reading.

~

I identify more strongly with the first list. But I prefer the following advice above either:

Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor

 Romans 12:10

Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds

Hebrews 10:24

Let your speech always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt, so that you will know how you should respond to each person.

Colossians 4:6

indulge me

While I've rather tried (and failed) to keep my blog more about writing and less about pictures - and let's face it, way more people comment on facebook pics - I just cannot keep from sharing these photographic glimpses here. I am a storyteller, and facebook is not the ideal place to keep record of stories, though it does have more publicity. Three weeks from today Brett will be finished with his class and I hope to spend heaps more time with him, and perhaps at that point I will refocus my internet time to blogging, and telling stories through pictures and words here, and leave the superficiality to facebook.

 here is my beautiful daughter Elanor at Oxbow Park this morning

 buffalo gal

 I couldn't decide which of the following to post...

 one

 two

 three

four

Which is your favorite?

tenacity

I might be a little crazed from going-on-13 weeks of 80+ hours one-on-one with a three year old, but I am wearing a stocking hat, two sweaters, wool socks, and enjoying ice cream. I got some tart local-grown raspberries from last summer out of the freezer and whipped this up in my blender, garnished with a square of Aldi's dark chocolate. But I was in too much of a hurry to get out a pretty bowl. So sue me.

My thoughts swarm more fiercely without Brett to counter-balance me, and I'm pondering my daughter's soul. Today I hugged her firmly while she screamed and struggled for what seemed like an eternity (but may have only been 10 minutes?). I call it a hug-lock, and I've done it before. Like when no other disciplinary method seems effective and she simply won't respect the animals or leave off whining or keep out of danger or listen to her mother. But today, as I lay there enduring her pleas and punches, I wondered what God was seeing. What do You know, Lord? Will this passionate stubbornness cleave to You? Will You bind her strength of will to Yours? Because I sure can't do it. I almost think she's more determined than I am, but perhaps I have just been tempered longer. Was I this hard to reason with, God? I couldn't outlast her, but I held on until her fighting was less enthusiastic, and then I let her go and she stayed on the bed beside me, searching my eyes, but the look in hers was undefeated.

Isaiah 1:18 "Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool."

the deadly faerie

The tool shop was tidy and inviting me to try my hand at building a box for a fairy garden, and I also had a coupon for a free four-pack of flowers, so with my Ela bell's help we made this:

  

I went inside for a mere moment, and I returned to her exclaiming how she "planted pretty flowers" in alongside her dandelions... only she had picked my April 1st Trio of crimson tulips..

Oh Me! How could I reprimand her for unintentionally murdering my favorite bouquet?

Nothing to do but make the best of it, and remember that the grass withers and the flowers fade.