other days

Some days, like yesterday, you have a nasty sinus headache and feel like your life is a total failure. Fortunately, the sun goes down and the searing affliction fades, and with rest your  normal work can resume. Other days, the absence of misery puts a spring in your step, and you can tackle your massive organization project with joie de vivre!

The North Porch: stuff to save, sell, & salvage

Outside of North Porch...

Fireside Porch inspiration?
(wood stove instead of fireplace)

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

tis the season

Christmas is 12 days away. I still want to make a treeskirt, decide where to display our Christmas cards, adorn the bare wreath on our porch, bake an assortment of cookies, and finish wrapping gifts, but in the meantime I'll share a few of our holiday traditions in our new home.

The Portage alit with twinkle lights from our wedding

a tree Brett designed out of scraps at work

corduroy stockings on our century staircase

our reassembled metal tree
with branches that unscrew and red rubber-capped tips

decorated with cardinals & ribbons on Brett's birthday

a tree for Norah to decorate with ornaments

our candlelit helm

castaway

Yesterday afternoon Norah and I were playing on the front porch when I heard a plaintive mewing which sounded very near. After a little while I began to look for the source until my eyes alit on a kitten clinging to a tree on the boulevard in front of our house!

Where did this little one come from? Based on the kitten's shyness and neighbors' reports of alley sightings, we have concluded she is a stray whose curiosity separated her from her mama. We haven't given her a name or decided whether or not we will keep her, but she seems to have been plopped right into our lap.

She is old enough to eat solid food, but small enough to hide in dark crevices, so we are letting her stay in Rad's old kennel.

"Someday the kitty will grow big like Victor," Norah says. Vic is Tanka's bloodhound, so I certainly hope not. But my longing for a puppy has just increased exponentially. Wanna plop one of those into our yard, God? (preferably a smallish non-shedding female)

revolutions

There is a day
when the road neither
comes nor goes, and the way
is not a way but a place.

-Wendell Berry

I have lived in Minnesota for a year now. I have been a full time homemaker for a year. The title 'homemaker' sums up all that I hold dear! Home; and Making. Place; and Purpose. Where I belong and what I do are all rolled into who I am. My identity.

I am continually learning better ways to say things. Letting love temper my confrontation of the world. Realizing that submission is not a negative word, but we have twisted and bent it into an ugly idea (too much of anything is ugly). Convincing myself of that pretty much every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to bed. And often failing. Embracing restoration and resourcefulness.

Questions I have been asked: What do you do all day? Do you like living across the street from your in-laws? Why are you drawn to the countryside? While these questions usually come from a genuine curiosity, I feel that I cannot adequately explain such broad and complex subjects. I want to answer with a story. I want to offer inquirers a glimpse into my life, but a plunge would be more apt. Brett and I were completely MADE to live this life. We have the exact skills and desires to turn the undesirable into the hospitable. I could write a whole post on this, but suffice it to say, we are on our own timetable and at this stage cannot do this for our livelihood. Though we are doing it for our living. *smile*

We have decided to name this home The Portage, alluding to life's transitory nature, and because this house is not our Anchor's Rest.

¹por·tage noun \ˈpȯr-tij, 3 is also pȯr-ˈtäzh\1 : the labor of carrying or transporting
2 archaic : the cost of carrying : porterage
3 a : the carrying of boats or goods overland from one body of water to another or around an obstacle (as a rapids) b : the route followed in making such a transfer

new mercies

Renewal. Springing up from beneath the leafy carpet, these little buds come alive again. Doesn't their brilliance of color leave you speechless?

Not me. :oP But I have vowed not to make complaints about the weather.

I am finding that while I embrace this stewardship even more wholeheartedly than I did all the other places I rented/lived, I do not feel I possess this place. Though surrounded by brick and pavement and reverberations of town, the history of this small plot is old and rich, and as wild as the rice for which our street was named. Older than me, at least. Wilder? Hmm... Ohh, but certainly more content.

These bulbs lived here before me. They know more of this little bit of earth than I. When I see pictures of places I lived before, I think "Why there is my old friend! I knew you well, once. Do you remember those days? Perhaps I love you better now that time has come between us." One day this yard and these rooms will kindle that emotion, too.

threshold

I feel like I'm walking on water. If I dare look down, I'll sink. If I dare *think* about looking down, I'll sink. Like a rock. Talk about pink elephants.

There, that was the best words I could give my emotions. Seriously, this owning a house business is surreal. Suddenly I've felt the edge of fear that I could lose this huge thing. But that is all it is: a thing. Underneath is still my strong sure Anchor that God would not give us a responsibility we cannot handle. We even prayed that God would not let us get the house unless it was in the scope of His providence. So... it must be!

Marvelous progression: education - husband - daughter - midwest - homemaking - house. Okay, a quiver full might be the frosting on the cake, but I just can't be discontent when I have so much already (can I? There is a white crib in the rafters of the garage; the house came with a free crib!). Oh my word, this place is bigger than I ever would have imagined. It really is like the Bailey place in "It's a Wonderful Life." Norah's room is done except for hanging some things on the walls. Brett is ripping up rotten floor to build and tile the bathroom and kitchen, and when that's done then we can settle in and use them! Painting will have to wait. Maybe I can paint one room per month. March - N's room, April - bathroom, May - kitchen, etc. Let me tell you, it is strange to unpack boxes whose contents haven't seen the light of day for years, let alone been put to use! Everyone (it seems) says no matter how much space you have, you'll fill it, and inside I scoff just a teeny bit. In five years my discipline may grow slack, but after successfully purging Quite a Lot and living in one-and-a-half rooms for almost a year I feel we sort of deserve to stretch out a little. I certainly hope that every window, wall, and corner are filled with pure and simple love & hospitality. All along I hoped for a cozy cost(read:energy)-efficient home, but since we landed such a whopper I'll just have to rise to the challenge of living cheaply in a large house.

Maybe, once the snow melts and the utility bill comes, it will all feel a little more real.

1155

After changes upon changes, we are more or less the same.

-Simon and Garfunkel

I was married at 2:00pm on Friday, January 4th 2008. 1155 days later, at 2:00pm on Friday, March 4th 2011 we are closing on our first house! God has made our lot secure. He is giving us this stewardship, and our part is to cultivate faithfulness as we enter into a reality that often seemed beyond our reach. Throughout this process He has made it clear that He is the one directing our steps, and that we could lose everything at any time. Therefore, our hope is in Him alone!!

This isn't our "Anchor's Rest" - that someday dream house - but by grace we were able to invest in a property that fulfilled four of the five desires we wrote down last July: affordable, proximate, built pre-1950, and full of opportunity to improve. I will happily look forward to finding an acreage on a gravel road someday (that was #5), and in the meanwhile thank God for the blessing of being able to pay this house off completely in just five years, instead of a 15 or 30 year mortgage. Not an easy feat for us, but God does not give us more than we can handle. We will also face the immense challenge of figuring out just how much electricity/gas/water/phone we can afford, and I for one am looking forward to competing for the title of "most resourceful wife in the world"! (I sort of feel like I was born for this!)

A new season, a new chapter, a new home.

dependence

Three more days. Until the world changes as we close on our first house.

I fully admit I am going crazy with waiting. Every minute feels like a year, somehow. Not that I want time to go faster. Oh no. These days are just h.e.a.v.y... with anticipation.

I'm going to take another deep breath and do the next thing.

fealty

Psalm 16:5
Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup; You have made my lot secure.

I have been disappointed when we made offers on possible dreamhouses, for we could not bring ourselves to make an offer unless it held that potential. Knowingly, we laid our desires before the Lord twice, and He said no twice. I've begun to rather expect that He will say no. Because I chose to trust that it was God who was directing our steps, and not our omission nor any agency of man, I was able to be uncharacteristically apathetic when we made an offer on a third house. Time will tell (closing is in two weeks) what our portion and our cup will be.

What an ordeal learning is. Being convinced that God is protecting the right house for us, I can begin to accept that He has done, is doing, and will do the same for my other prayer requests.

Two women looked through prison bars
One saw mud, the other saw stars.

-Calm My Anxious Heart

three french hens?

Three meddlesome turkeys amble through the property we are taking a look at. Oggling ensued.

wandering barques

our tree in 2008, 2009, and 2010

He had come to his desire by going through everything that was opposed to it.

-Hannah Coulter

Three short years ago I married the boy who had mysteriously become my best friend. Words cannot express my gratefulness for this man who completes me. Marriage is the sweetest, most fulfilling challenge I've ever faced, and I long to build and share the rewards as much as possible.
At the break of 2011, I try to frame its unfolding within the Grander Scheme. I have more reason to be content than I ever have before - my desires are being fulfilled! Still there are daily opportunities to "consider it all joy."
Recovering from Christmas & NewYear celebrations has mingled with Brett's being out of work for a fortnight and observing our 3rd anniversary. As well as pursuit of a place to call and make our own. So a little ache follows me, an ache for beauty, an ache for my place, an ache for brokenness, an ache for wholeness, an ache for all the things I have and all the things I lack, an ache for abiding, and an ache for arriving.
Francie took her courage into her two hands and said, "Those stories are the truth."

-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

more and merely

More snow today. I almost didn't go to Faribault S.A. for "thrifty thursday" half-off clothing. But I couldn't reschedule my eye exam, and driving Brett to work was halfway there already. So I braved the icy (squeaky) roads and did not end up in the ditch at all. Ordered a new pair of glasses, enjoyed an eggnog shake for lunch, and found a powderblue snowsuit with sparkly silver snowflakes for Norabella. Simple joys.

Tomorrow we're going to Grandma Norma Elaine's for the whole day. Saturday I'm slated to paint. I want my own home so badly that I fear my will must be broken before I may have it. That is usually the way of things. Oh, vanity of vanities. Why can't I merely be thankful? I am just not a "merely" kind of person is why.

sweater weather

Norah is 27 months old today. Two and a quarter years.

And it snowed.

It's all melted now, and a bitterly cold wind drives all the carpet of leaves away, but I got to walk to the post office amid actual flakes. Time for wrapping presents, baking cookies, wearing costumes, roasting turkey, singing carols, drinking cider/cocoa/chai/seasonally-spiced-coffee.

Brett and I just watched two movies I really liked. Me and Orson Welles was surprisingly unpredictable and an accurate and timeless portrayal of professional theatre, in my experience. Robin Hood (with Russell Crowe) surpassed my expectations, even if Medival English History was the only class I ever got a C in (quite deserved).

We are going to a Wild/Capitals game in the Twin Cities this week, and next month to a L'abri conference in Ames. I don't mind that it will take time to develop lasting friendships with others, because I'd most like to invite them over to my own house, which won't happen for a while anyway. I just don't want to get out of practice. There is plenty for me to steward meantime.

blusterful windsday

blocks brett is making for norah

that's right: snow

I'm making a scrapbook about Norah, and it's so great leafing through all the memories and setting them down in story form.

sabbath

church.
we believe we have found our church home. it is a relief and an affirmation that we are supposed to be here.

house.
basking in anticipation. not knowing the answer is at least better than knowing the answer is "not yet." i think?

work.
satisfying, challenging, and promising. we have yet to see how busy brett is kept in the winter, but he is optimistic, as usual. being a homemaker in an indefinitely transitory home keeps me in consistent dependence on the Spirit. after all, isn't that what this earth is?

play.
hurrah for fall! walks, books, crafts, food, campfires, holidays, and harvest fields. i am scrapbooking norah's baby book and looking forward to family get-togethers as Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's approach (and birthdays and anniversaries).

life.
abundant.

beauty trumped my doubt

"But if we hope for what we do not see,
with perseverence we wait eagerly for it."

ohhh weekend. in which we recover from colds, watch tv, and drink tea. brett helps sandbag one of the city wells after 10" of rain causes much flooding. norah joins the trees in donning fall colors. i read books and tidy around the house and whisper to brett, "all i want for christmas is a house. wrapped in snow."

our little girl grows so assertive. she craves attention & interaction. her babyhood was fleeting, i had hardly said hello and it was gone. how i love to watch her legs stretch out and see her mind put things together and the words come out in full sentences, newly-born into the dazzling light of day.

sometimes the past feels like a dream. most has faded away, except for brief vivid memories, like postcards. the ache will remain. the happiest, highest moments are but a taste of heaven.

ah but i have the sweetest friend to share life with.

Stewardship

"The rule of no realm is mine, neither of Gondor nor any other, great or small. But all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are my care. And for my part, I shall not wholly fail of my task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come. For I also am a steward. Did you not know?"

-Gandalf the White

...Affordable
...Near Brett's work
...DIY fixer-upper
...Built pre-1950
...On a gravel road

These are our considerations as we explore the possibility of buying a house. Will we resell it in a few years or raise our children and live out our days upon its threshold? Will it compliment our daily lifestyle and not deter us in our hospitality? Does it feel like a home? Is buying the right house a good investment, or ought we rent for a while longer as we continue to practice tranquility and saving as God allows? For how much longer?

Certainly several things have fallen into place that make the option possible at all. And our desire is there. With hope, we wait, and prepare, and dream.

The Avalanche

I love living with my in-laws. Partly because they are two of the most awesome people on the planet, and partly because they let me help restore their hundred-year-old house.

When we moved into the back "apartment" of their home, we got to pull up the carpet, rip the wallpaper out, and paint it a lemony yellow. It's fun to experiment using someone else's walls. I just had to try it - and I love waking up to the sunshine shade - and now I want to try it in a bathroom when we get our own house.

For a few years now I've been developing a color palette for our Someday Anchor's Rest, built subtley around a ship theme, with white, red, and turquoise. Maybe seafoam. I don't want porthole windows and I refuse to use a single seashell, but I wouldn't mind an antique ship's helm lying around like some people keep old wagon wheels, and maybe if my curtains billow a little like masts it wouldn't be so bad...

...the semblance of our future galley?

This past week, however, my hands began to itch for a project, and Andrea had often mentioned how she had always wanted to remodel the kitchen but it had never really happened. Our bedroom sits directly above the kitchen, so I decided that stripping and painting would be no sweat, and Brian and Andrea were celebrating 30 years of marriage on August 23rd, so what better gift than a bright new room?

Little did I know what I had begun. As I picked ever-so-slowly at the wallpaper (which had cemented itself to the wall so permanently that hot water, DIF solution, oatmeal, and putty knives combined had little effect on removing the stuff), I discovered that underneath was a hodge-podge of surfaces around the kitchen. Brian took a look and within minutes was prying away at wallboard, trim, and plaster. Suddenly my project is taking on a slightly larger scale. A simple coat of fresh paint turned into a pass-through, new walls, new ceiling, and new countertops.

photos courtesy ASJ

The first photo is the current state of the kitchen. Notice how far I got stripping the old wallpaper? And the now-window-that-once-was-wall? Andrea likes the warm earthy tones in the second picture; we will see how it turns out! We picked up a design book and a pile of color samples, and while Brett ripped out more ceiling I made a collage out of the elements Andrea liked best. Her inspiration and centerpiece is the Carl Larson.

During all this, Norah wanted to express her creative side by drawing a face all by herself:

Norah's First Face!

Memorial Day

So we moved! No more sacrificing our marriage for our daughter's sake. No more sacrificing our family for a career in theatre arts. I don't think our goals have changed at all... merely the scenery along the way. What matters more: the journey or the destination? Trick question. Both are of great value. I still hope Brett will be a Technical Director one day, even just at a high school with next-to-nothing pay, or maybe he will have a career in carpentry and do theatre on the side. We just won't sacrifice time with each other to achieve it.

Living in Maryland taught us much. Both of us working full time just to pay the rent taught us to appreciate every moment of time together. Living in the city confirmed our hearts' desires to dwell away from both urban and suburban communities. Being half a continent away from our folks (opposite coasts from mine) truly forced us to leave and cleave, and to find encouragement and support in the body of Christ and necessarily depend on God alone as our Anchor.

For us, being in the midwest feels right. I will always appreciate what living in the DC-Baltimore area taught us, but I will never regret leaving it. Places have always had an affect on me. The desert - Bakersfield - represented dry land, brown sky, constant summer. I also wanted to escape the brokenness of relationship - when my parents were seperated for five years. But God was drawing me to my calling (Genesis 50:20). England represented history and fantasy, a place very green and very rainy, almost too good to consider home. Iowa was where I was happiest, always. It was there I met Brett, who would become my best friend, and there our daughter was born by God's decree, and I would have it no other way!

And what is my calling? Something I am ever discovering. (Stay tuned!)

I relate well to Almanzo and Laura Wilder, whose first four years of marriage were full of hardship and sorrow, and whose daughter was also named after a flower. Let me state for the record that I wish to always be poor but always make ends meet. I am happiest working at home. I hope to have a leaky, ramshackle, Boxcar-Children-meets-It's-A-Wonderful-Life house someday, but the Lord is my Shepherd and as long as I am with Brett my cup overfloweth.

At the end of two years I was just beginning to uncover two of my greatest vices: impatience and discontent. Only from a place of honesty and humility can I learn to walk according to my calling - helpmate, steward, disciple. I want to keep this blog to challenge myself in discipline, and to write more than a facebook status to my community and kin.

Let me share Memorial Day with you: The first part was spent in Owatonna Minnesota, my husband's hometown, where our Norah watched her first parade and the marching band and horses held her attention fast, and our morning concluded with a potluck with Nana and Tatanka. Then Norah and I drove down to Rolfe Iowa, my father's hometown, to see Grandma Ives, aunts, uncle, cousins, and second cousins. Swimming, a movie, and singing around a bonfire. A brilliant sunset on the plains and night sky brimming with stars.

Reading Till We Have Faces for what must be the third or fourth time: "Who can feel ugly when the heart meets delight?" My heart has met delight. Here. Now.