tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29131556103294049842024-03-13T17:53:29.727-04:00Deo Volentemother to thirteen ... who most likely has something urgent she should be doingRachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.comBlogger429125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-28521310434811653602022-06-17T09:50:00.000-04:002022-06-17T09:50:05.920-04:00Explore: Blue Ridge Tunnel Trail<span style="font-size: large;">One of our recent excursions took us to the <a href="https://www.nelsoncounty.com/blue-ridge-tunnel/" target="_blank">Blue Ridge Tunnel Trail</a>. We chose the Afton entrance.</span><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">I packed our lunch and we headed over.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">There were slight misgivings when we reached the parking lot only to discover there were (1) no picnic tables and (2) no modern bathrooms and (3) the porta potties were perched right on the edge of the parking lot.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">We ate standing outside the van, fashioning our sandwiches on the running board and trying to be as far NOT downwind of the porta potties as possible.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Then we cleaned up our lunch, I grabbed a bag of snacks, and we headed down the trail.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTFQHd0KFQYG05fS8P0l5umU1WrDSvTuk6HBO_aRqNx4CAdQIh-Oc6ggBJWUzQZMK3sgy08Zhc_XMBMi1nhkiaVytWoJlqAM-tE54AMOJVzPqcfphMyXDO6bsl9nJl1GT_e49So-Fr1w-pKzXYyjxffRhSA25ulOuitX4hjFz1M-ANC-L4iYcfm4Ttg/s5152/IMG_0629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTFQHd0KFQYG05fS8P0l5umU1WrDSvTuk6HBO_aRqNx4CAdQIh-Oc6ggBJWUzQZMK3sgy08Zhc_XMBMi1nhkiaVytWoJlqAM-tE54AMOJVzPqcfphMyXDO6bsl9nJl1GT_e49So-Fr1w-pKzXYyjxffRhSA25ulOuitX4hjFz1M-ANC-L4iYcfm4Ttg/w640-h480/IMG_0629.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"> <br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyoavK7GLjK-NSMxJkYQgxJShK4pMdna2iqdMGcF3csiMYtDJdM3d2kBsyUGpL679uTXJLb-GoM7RIAwwgzWnByA55VSf7YorgG1U5N5t-0kdD9fzzyxXb1qUEPxHqS4G3RkOKBuObbMpxJgk5xNquqIn1i9zX8gusqMl7uzDJ333jIEbgTcUVHHrRww/s2560/20220606_131543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyoavK7GLjK-NSMxJkYQgxJShK4pMdna2iqdMGcF3csiMYtDJdM3d2kBsyUGpL679uTXJLb-GoM7RIAwwgzWnByA55VSf7YorgG1U5N5t-0kdD9fzzyxXb1qUEPxHqS4G3RkOKBuObbMpxJgk5xNquqIn1i9zX8gusqMl7uzDJ333jIEbgTcUVHHrRww/w640-h360/20220606_131543.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">There were wild black raspberries growing on the side of the trail, as well as vetch and viper's bugloss.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimPAYHJGF25jVpit9AsaOyBOQ6TQ6zVSZyLrksuWpK84mEafPKTSe6544NNZUa4cq1fnZW4dr3aKhP1vsqwcvOcHf5fYxzLnnBkNECuWWZvdAu2ALDxtN2mtEGUcZNS1e4dq0Vedexf4kSIxS65iOQnv9daGCu3OCvlQOhiuknu_w5uWxkh0JosXxEQ/s5152/IMG_0641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5152" data-original-width="3864" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimPAYHJGF25jVpit9AsaOyBOQ6TQ6zVSZyLrksuWpK84mEafPKTSe6544NNZUa4cq1fnZW4dr3aKhP1vsqwcvOcHf5fYxzLnnBkNECuWWZvdAu2ALDxtN2mtEGUcZNS1e4dq0Vedexf4kSIxS65iOQnv9daGCu3OCvlQOhiuknu_w5uWxkh0JosXxEQ/w480-h640/IMG_0641.JPG" width="480" /></a><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">In the distance, there was a vocal cow making the sort of vehement protests I imagine she makes when her calf has just come in from a wet pasture and carelessly skipped across the freshly mopped floor. "Do you hear that goose?" asked Rosie (3), with wide eyes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">"That is a cow," said Ethan.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">"No, that is a goose. Gooses honk. That is a goose," she said with a knowing nod. All of her nods are knowing, and there is no convincing her <i>ever</i> that she may be incorrect about something.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIRjEcIqR73NPmZalXRHdyAyHg9ZlkQkywjvnsv3iOfUfa9tnWJZGhhzhL9ImHL8Ztm5Uwl0BuTyanUKOZhjJaqvBWzrUSahMYOk6CpFPmhePL2iPHbzXS63qasIoMyZzrcBMSrSNrQ10Q0pNwK3pp8PlU2k4h8DXnwAQxjjUhPne4BiLhxw_SgkVTg/s5152/IMG_0636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIRjEcIqR73NPmZalXRHdyAyHg9ZlkQkywjvnsv3iOfUfa9tnWJZGhhzhL9ImHL8Ztm5Uwl0BuTyanUKOZhjJaqvBWzrUSahMYOk6CpFPmhePL2iPHbzXS63qasIoMyZzrcBMSrSNrQ10Q0pNwK3pp8PlU2k4h8DXnwAQxjjUhPne4BiLhxw_SgkVTg/w640-h480/IMG_0636.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Rosie with Mimi and Lily<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLndCn8XcxWaA45LIikXY1EBdix7JMDIn5vyT7d0jaqGi0edmUy9XI1rIJtNO8H8ZnHkkibAuzkoLCjCj3CM20nxGTnoBPGVVsbL5r-wlSin4oFqobz2XtyTFH18jHlFn-ZVAGlsh3Ml7EP4ne3q05dWA027-FRBYHW5hYkjxCiZBsTKNJZZek1aPDA/s5152/IMG_0631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLndCn8XcxWaA45LIikXY1EBdix7JMDIn5vyT7d0jaqGi0edmUy9XI1rIJtNO8H8ZnHkkibAuzkoLCjCj3CM20nxGTnoBPGVVsbL5r-wlSin4oFqobz2XtyTFH18jHlFn-ZVAGlsh3Ml7EP4ne3q05dWA027-FRBYHW5hYkjxCiZBsTKNJZZek1aPDA/w640-h480/IMG_0631.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">As we neared the entrance to the tunnel, various children ran ahead. Flashlight beams inundated and then dissipated as the children set off in twos and threes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ByB7N2SChyaNAQFUpweorzF2SQ07rrLU7yC7orXBVIxlOz2t_KFuWcHORadj2jg-Nr-IhHUBkyOvFwlN_uv_8r8cIbZibm23gdZkoUYr70Gv2dxvNPlJxM5diL5VuC8gUx49bUBxukcwbdbnbN06o_Ziyl5kJSDiS_U4eUMTcSf3r7f8P1n-m_CFLA/s2560/20220606_131619.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="2560" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ByB7N2SChyaNAQFUpweorzF2SQ07rrLU7yC7orXBVIxlOz2t_KFuWcHORadj2jg-Nr-IhHUBkyOvFwlN_uv_8r8cIbZibm23gdZkoUYr70Gv2dxvNPlJxM5diL5VuC8gUx49bUBxukcwbdbnbN06o_Ziyl5kJSDiS_U4eUMTcSf3r7f8P1n-m_CFLA/w640-h360/20220606_131619.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">River (5), while the others forge ahead</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br />It took about twenty minutes to walk all the way through the tunnel. (Well, on average. Some of the children were MUCH faster and had to wait for those of us following certain young ones who talked the entire time to hear the echoes and had to be reminded repeatedly to "keep walking, please.")</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">We were not a quiet group.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">When we reached the other side, we gathered just outside the tunnel and split candy necklaces and sour gummies.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Then we headed back. <br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVaI5Xy6UPIJkQuoXaiwRayp_n1KNsCskGNFrb44EzylQ28jLDcEm1ksVH1J6dyaZuz_ScgzBpoIuYdk_lU6DIS8pZEmgrb62apvKPEJdeUsekjDIbtEmL4N1Xqm6pWbMFddkyRVdxLqLiM6g-evl0y9T37pSOSUsaNCiDDVD-7Pz3oktutjQNUN3fA/s5152/IMG_0640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVaI5Xy6UPIJkQuoXaiwRayp_n1KNsCskGNFrb44EzylQ28jLDcEm1ksVH1J6dyaZuz_ScgzBpoIuYdk_lU6DIS8pZEmgrb62apvKPEJdeUsekjDIbtEmL4N1Xqm6pWbMFddkyRVdxLqLiM6g-evl0y9T37pSOSUsaNCiDDVD-7Pz3oktutjQNUN3fA/w640-h480/IMG_0640.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">River (5) and Gideon (12). I have no idea what she is doing here.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTKxkAKLEm1dgOpWGzed_Pwunox2HciCikWJrKPQmMUcMP_RHdZNhif6QxerXiE76RTQcDmNyicQd3ZvZi6EcE2Bu1uFhaSb4E-X22sfMksi2ikaOSP849a_B8zobwoGjjiayXdeWpQSEgnSbRe2R-RCIlSu3FqTDebCrmorm151q8kBJnUZvywkZlg/s5152/IMG_0639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMTKxkAKLEm1dgOpWGzed_Pwunox2HciCikWJrKPQmMUcMP_RHdZNhif6QxerXiE76RTQcDmNyicQd3ZvZi6EcE2Bu1uFhaSb4E-X22sfMksi2ikaOSP849a_B8zobwoGjjiayXdeWpQSEgnSbRe2R-RCIlSu3FqTDebCrmorm151q8kBJnUZvywkZlg/w640-h480/IMG_0639.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Ada (10) and Salem (12)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvAWuiaNxMFn2ppGrzmEMS6OvSRwCRE12yiaxfOw7LT7OGYqTu7JvRrrsFU30xtRoRvE2AS9qxZYn0C3ABa0Iz3vG_rEFOybz8A7R1nWrVgjZe_-2cGij_AmTX-CkwH5YYdBCSShk0glaVZXIN3I5bl-IhaeTf9Fryayr7KYwdLrYdR_mdwSq-yMufg/s5152/IMG_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvAWuiaNxMFn2ppGrzmEMS6OvSRwCRE12yiaxfOw7LT7OGYqTu7JvRrrsFU30xtRoRvE2AS9qxZYn0C3ABa0Iz3vG_rEFOybz8A7R1nWrVgjZe_-2cGij_AmTX-CkwH5YYdBCSShk0glaVZXIN3I5bl-IhaeTf9Fryayr7KYwdLrYdR_mdwSq-yMufg/w640-h480/IMG_0638.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Edee (15) and Eve (7)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLJ79ihNhJAI45fbcVaI2JyuKweAMYiJJ1OSNozNM3o7FVgOK6-D2xPaubiA-fInDLa1f8qJJ0jtAadSUlXKMJU-2tnIJdT6MSOY4ZY5w6uLlMLBd74-dJ_9swWJXay9VHjUtKPadQO7GpjAgZ4TyqL-phCJRhleznRWRkhbUVA3ezXq3QY6BiOmwEg/s5152/IMG_0637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoLJ79ihNhJAI45fbcVaI2JyuKweAMYiJJ1OSNozNM3o7FVgOK6-D2xPaubiA-fInDLa1f8qJJ0jtAadSUlXKMJU-2tnIJdT6MSOY4ZY5w6uLlMLBd74-dJ_9swWJXay9VHjUtKPadQO7GpjAgZ4TyqL-phCJRhleznRWRkhbUVA3ezXq3QY6BiOmwEg/w640-h480/IMG_0637.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Mimi (17) and Lily (18)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqiSJ9l1-G-A2fzgKNVyT5HvJQDu8e2J4K1Qr33d8Ld4FaxGzz3Uc2fxnp8K9M-1CbKPpwmsBPjS_NouZVF9YvXw_3ThvVggvkbj07-8ts2TcqPlXUCu0TrI8lOVcgVmBt8axo5osabhS9EOn6pBWslCXV1236zCbLgDKDKuUp3CjLalavaO1iVRE1g/s5152/IMG_0635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqiSJ9l1-G-A2fzgKNVyT5HvJQDu8e2J4K1Qr33d8Ld4FaxGzz3Uc2fxnp8K9M-1CbKPpwmsBPjS_NouZVF9YvXw_3ThvVggvkbj07-8ts2TcqPlXUCu0TrI8lOVcgVmBt8axo5osabhS9EOn6pBWslCXV1236zCbLgDKDKuUp3CjLalavaO1iVRE1g/w640-h480/IMG_0635.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Gideon and River</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I was pleasantly surprised by the family's reaction to the walk. Several of the older girls stopped to take pictures of the trailside flowers, the older boys chauffeured those who wanted to race ahead, and the Littles vacillated between (i) being dramatic about how <i>tired</i> their legs were and about how <i>so many rocks</i> were in their shoes, which precipitated their being piggy-backed and (ii) demanding <i>put me down right now! </i>at which point they would race ahead three steps, stand stock still, say something loudly to hear the echo, and notice rocks in their shoes.</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">The tunnel was cool, the outside air was hot, and when we got home we unpacked the picnic bags and crashed in assorted positions around the house.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Success!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><br /></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-79939811174135052432022-06-15T10:08:00.006-04:002022-06-17T09:50:26.185-04:00Explore<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I'm not one who typically figures out a "Word of the Year," you know, the one word that will remind you of your focus for the coming year: Yes, or Hope, or Trust (never my words). There were a few January 1's where I tried that, but I inevitably either forgot what the word was by mid-January or I forgot until the following January that I had even picked out a word.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">However, this is the second summer that I have picked out a Word of the Summer. Summer is such an evasive season to me as a mother. As a child, it was this long-awaited holiday that left me deliciously exhausted and sunburnt and bug-bitten and chomping at the bit to start school.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3MRCyOQhLQU" width="320" youtube-src-id="3MRCyOQhLQU"></iframe></span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">As a mother, it is this long-awaited holiday that leaves me exhausted and sunburnt and bug-bitten and frantically dodging the planning and inevitability of school.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I always assume there will be these long, lazy days of heat and pool towels drying and popsicles and afternoon movies in front of the air conditioner.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WbDfDv9nvZ4" width="320" youtube-src-id="WbDfDv9nvZ4"></iframe></span></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And those elements are there: the heat and the drying pool towels and the popsicles and the air-conditioned movies. But they are squeezed in between getting various children to their orthodontist appointments or mowing jobs or babysitting jobs or driving lessons or summer camps or airports or college orientations. And always looming are the school subjects that probably should have been finished or maybe should have been started or definitely should have been checked (here's looking at you, Math).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And so a couple of summers ago, I decided to pick a focus for the summer that was actually achievable. Something that, no matter what, if I had been intentional, I could look back on the summer and say, "Yes, in the midst of the busyness of summer, THAT did happen." </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And this summer, I picked "Explore."<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Ethan and I have always loved exploring, just poking around different places and seeing what crawls out. When the children were all little, the easiest way to be together as a family was to load everyone in the van and just DRIVE. No GPS, no planned destination, no timeline. Sometimes we would get an audiobook from the library, always someone would fuss a bit, and usually some wo</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">uld nap.</span></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4OG8UCnbDdFDlTWPwPmej1eW352jGKS6Wz6OpJrqEvRNHnUCQwZ1UdR4MPtZhuTePUpE4vSc0ojcw0YObgs0XY6riyXCk8Lz4q-Cz-Zd7cqJne1XnMn15GWHVv821SL1iWSZrsSPTi_YfUF4oJCOx2TKfnXMCo0FMjXo3CDyE2ICz19DseWh0wBdyMA/s1024/HPIM1772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4OG8UCnbDdFDlTWPwPmej1eW352jGKS6Wz6OpJrqEvRNHnUCQwZ1UdR4MPtZhuTePUpE4vSc0ojcw0YObgs0XY6riyXCk8Lz4q-Cz-Zd7cqJne1XnMn15GWHVv821SL1iWSZrsSPTi_YfUF4oJCOx2TKfnXMCo0FMjXo3CDyE2ICz19DseWh0wBdyMA/w640-h480/HPIM1772.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Long-suffering Ben with Edee and Mimi in 2009ish</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Sometimes we would take a boat, sometimes we would take a fishing pole, but mostly we would just </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">take coffees, sippy cups, diapers, and snacks. </span></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfNvZLfmmuTvTMvz-c7JvnEj6GVXKUGl_wVZfRzdLuqb_QPZsExDCMiiWqVhxZkUqwhlHolUS-rpnL3DxL5M0BhRCYBbS1u4bjizaAFrbxkV_QaRnI5FcQ_lbawz-SugMNfsoN6IGV0nxZSng74K9GRVgWV6Kh1OTnPGrosJXvSZlsRff8YSUK3NKx5w/s1024/DSCN0307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfNvZLfmmuTvTMvz-c7JvnEj6GVXKUGl_wVZfRzdLuqb_QPZsExDCMiiWqVhxZkUqwhlHolUS-rpnL3DxL5M0BhRCYBbS1u4bjizaAFrbxkV_QaRnI5FcQ_lbawz-SugMNfsoN6IGV0nxZSng74K9GRVgWV6Kh1OTnPGrosJXvSZlsRff8YSUK3NKx5w/w640-h480/DSCN0307.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A grubby Jon-Jon with a live Maverick in 2009ish</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgubtheCpV7GVt4spSLyGneH7Crsr0G2lXpyHXJ5YH2gBFQIfO9qWfv4GJmed-ALZUoMRUD6tOddgYn_CN_PSLG9BAs8W34C1DfCLqNFIPkqRNeAyF5R4pG9kKgW7HXYcs_ZmsGRhbVqRJ9Cq__SmMTtN8nyIx8Y2ZcRESUT7BVfhV2YYBLanJrDEDA/s1024/DSCN0318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifgubtheCpV7GVt4spSLyGneH7Crsr0G2lXpyHXJ5YH2gBFQIfO9qWfv4GJmed-ALZUoMRUD6tOddgYn_CN_PSLG9BAs8W34C1DfCLqNFIPkqRNeAyF5R4pG9kKgW7HXYcs_ZmsGRhbVqRJ9Cq__SmMTtN8nyIx8Y2ZcRESUT7BVfhV2YYBLanJrDEDA/w640-h480/DSCN0318.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jon-Jon, Abey, and Maverick in 2009ish</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXLhtHMcS5Lfh1kmCUFu9JiddpL0dulj03nS8XsFxG4tcwIs5CY5tPYPoR-Iaed0pGcBwIaDH4PyZxu0e2ZKlvBwIsgAcMdYlw70qGTO-u7_46lx2WwtUOhnTNUcKBoPTxjsEE6Blta8DEBgUIq_57_02Rdsbad6605axQHL7m4rTkQzERZs8e0rZmw/s1024/DSCN0324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXLhtHMcS5Lfh1kmCUFu9JiddpL0dulj03nS8XsFxG4tcwIs5CY5tPYPoR-Iaed0pGcBwIaDH4PyZxu0e2ZKlvBwIsgAcMdYlw70qGTO-u7_46lx2WwtUOhnTNUcKBoPTxjsEE6Blta8DEBgUIq_57_02Rdsbad6605axQHL7m4rTkQzERZs8e0rZmw/w640-h480/DSCN0324.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ethan, Ben, and Maverick fishing in 2009ish</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBzCcNfVxvZgp4qpBhjzecYou9H6UUf2BKelu_4aYQVLnmfEcPXxPcUEI67wstwA2-mVKsgmCKTErJ0J54G8un63S4JO2yNJvgdxTZysIYx19RUe0wnvqZnu3FibJ2rq_FEvEilFHEfWZDNlaBazpp1UVjGRKzPUMicKuXMI65oN3AytVZAWXPqeJMug/w640-h480/DSCN0283.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On the boat with Papa, circa 2009</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">But as they have gotten older and more numerous and</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> more opinionated, those times have dwindled off. Our gathering in the van has been limited to the drive to and from church twice a Sunday.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And I hate that.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Which is why recent Monday (Ethan's day off) mornings have found me packing sandwiches and chips and cookies and watermelon, hollering, "Did everyone go potty?" and grabbing my camera to head out to the van.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">It all started a few Sundays back when I was contemplating Ben being gone all summer, Lily ready to start college, and two more needing to get their driver's licenses. I started down the path of "Woe is me this stage of life stinks am I really this old," a path that typically ends with me listening morosely to Cowboy Junkies and longing for the days I didn't have to do Pilates just to move without needing to be oiled and could swing without having to vomit.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAnJWEWMxoI3q3ijcehj-vsbfTU1u-vLQu8_sUGPjREv65-cf_bYTAnEwKpwH4Y5Mbj8tQkChIsx8ChBDCXupOkDhwtIYjPcdMkCuR8nkxw5ugBG09HKJXTaTu5gzri3SsTHPiDE30FHfkcM-dyHSxuTdlaYUgY0aE4YxtHQaqxd5ek7BNRA4fJYZsxg/s5151/IMG_0575%20(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3364" data-original-width="5151" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAnJWEWMxoI3q3ijcehj-vsbfTU1u-vLQu8_sUGPjREv65-cf_bYTAnEwKpwH4Y5Mbj8tQkChIsx8ChBDCXupOkDhwtIYjPcdMkCuR8nkxw5ugBG09HKJXTaTu5gzri3SsTHPiDE30FHfkcM-dyHSxuTdlaYUgY0aE4YxtHQaqxd5ek7BNRA4fJYZsxg/w640-h418/IMG_0575%20(2).JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sweet Susie, Lily, Ben (Mr. Admissions Counselor), and Ethan. See why I feel old?</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I mean, it just wasn't a good place to be. I have meals to get on and laundry to do! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Also, I am supremely blessed. I have a husband whom I love madly, children that exasperate me in the most wonderful, hilarious ways, and two adult children who outshine me totally and make me so proud I could burst.</span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq7L2dwWBegSpzlmYgvNF0queTGohkoSgr9o7pUW28p4tZdEFd-XDrXEbneWJ1f7V_R_COw0xKeHgHiD3p-mfHBlzKnO0wBoFmo5OfIV91nacFdpYpGhGki8M9CmJORIkmtcy8MBoTTgcJ5dkrH1ySZiQ523-M-ogZ7sdoc3_pjLXOWh04ScmH1jXAjA/s2560/20220321_174547.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq7L2dwWBegSpzlmYgvNF0queTGohkoSgr9o7pUW28p4tZdEFd-XDrXEbneWJ1f7V_R_COw0xKeHgHiD3p-mfHBlzKnO0wBoFmo5OfIV91nacFdpYpGhGki8M9CmJORIkmtcy8MBoTTgcJ5dkrH1ySZiQ523-M-ogZ7sdoc3_pjLXOWh04ScmH1jXAjA/w360-h640/20220321_174547.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ada (10) and Zebby (8), not the adult children</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">So on Monday morning I shoved paper plates and paper towels and assorted foods at the children, announced, "Put these in the van! We are going for a picnic!" and we headed off.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">It wasn't any kind of grandiose destination. We drove about fifteen minutes away to familiar territory, had a picnic, and went for a walk.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And it was magical.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">You know the moment I realized it was magical? It was when I bit into my sandwich, thought, <i>I taste bug spray</i>, and was suddenly transported to many summer meals of my childhood. <i>This just tastes exactly right. I didn't know this is what I needed to taste, but this is it.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">We weren't far away and we weren't anywhere foreign, but we were <i>exploring</i>. We were turning over rocks and peeking under leaves and scampering further down the trail to catch another glimpse of the ducklings. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And even the unexpected seasoning of bug spray served to jolt me from my plain picnic fare and transport me to carefree summers of long ago.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I absolutely loved it. And right then I decided that we WILL explore this summer. Even in the midst of all the comings and goings and goodbye-ing and hello-ing, we will turn over different metaphorical rocks and see what crawls out.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And when I really am old and you come to visit me and we head out to the porch for a picnic, you make the sandwiches and I'll bring the bug spray.</span></p>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-85583084446872876722021-04-09T11:30:00.001-04:002021-04-09T11:30:26.223-04:00Maverick<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCUhMYXSFFw50uxn1xeLhEoC2TylqGEUVmKvnHjw-OFVZEn6ZcKMW9a_-bC2-a5zTtI8FESHv9aOc7S6RYmEtLX9o3t-fmhTPwZTxj5wfN4HPzVywssHPnQJO8NTPU-FpqkWGzxbbQjay/s4000/IMG_3860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCUhMYXSFFw50uxn1xeLhEoC2TylqGEUVmKvnHjw-OFVZEn6ZcKMW9a_-bC2-a5zTtI8FESHv9aOc7S6RYmEtLX9o3t-fmhTPwZTxj5wfN4HPzVywssHPnQJO8NTPU-FpqkWGzxbbQjay/w640-h480/IMG_3860.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">This week we had to say goodbye to our faithful canine companion, Maverick. He was thirteen (fourteen?), and he was ours for twelve years. Most of our children knew him for all of their lives, and all of our children knew him for most of their lives.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Which did make things difficult.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">He never barked, never bit, never growled at children. He had toddlers bite him and run over his tail, foreign chihuahuas threaten his very existence, several sets of cats claim his home as theirs, and seven babies interrupt the nightly routine. The only time we heard him cry was when he had to be separated from us, enclosed in our bedroom so that friends' children who were afraid of dogs would come into our house. Even when he had cancer and a permanent wound on the bottom of his paw that had to be dressed twice daily, he never growled nor lunged at anyone. He was the best dog I have ever known.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Which did make things even more difficult.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Our children have grieved in different ways, which has been eye-opening and somehow lovely. One daughter remained in the hub of our house, stoically taking on cleaning the kitchen, quietly scrubbing dishes and counters and moving chairs to sweep under the table. As the younger children ran through the kitchen, demanding popsicles and "something to do," she noiselessly provided frozen treats and crafts. Another daughter preferred to be more invisible, thoroughly cleaning the room she shares with six sisters, framing the article from the Helena, Montana newspaper the shelter had published about Maverick the week before we got him. (We had not seen that article when we found Maverick at the shelter, and a church member cut it out and gave it to us after they found out we had adopted him.) Two of our girls decided to go sit, quietly but together, in the sun at the top of our property.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">One son, while camping in our yard with his brothers, woke crying in the middle of the night and came inside to spend the rest of the night on the couch. All of our boys -- without a word from us -- straightened up the yard, pulled out the many push mowers we have accumulated, and pieced together enough working ones to mow our acre for the first time this season.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And the three little girls (5, 4, and 2) went continually among each group, relentlessly asking questions and making everyone laugh and groan through tears: "Do you want to see the picture I drew of Maverick dead and everyone crying?"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">And River (4) perfectly summed up the situation: "Well, Maverick's dead. But we can still have chicken nuggets and French fries!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">This week would have been easier if we had never gotten a dog. Only, I never would have known it was any easier of a week. And we never would have known the utter delight of a freshly bathed dog (after he has dried), a good romp in the grass, a faithful, quiet, furry friend when we are sad, and reckless joy in deep snow. We would not have gotten to watch our then-18 year old son rise to the occasion and decide to brush an old dog's teeth nightly in order to save them, or our current 15-year old son learn to dress an old dog's wounds, <i>with never a stubborn refusal</i>. I watched this dog grow old with my children, and I have watched my children mature with this dog.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">He was a good dog, and we loved him.</span></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnLc2Puxc_9-yDaP1N5QoXRjN7PlGiPMJgPPJhyphenhyphenvCl7s7BUgGpjUC7tOWy7juWqo16dvgZP6kmQ6Q_PuIMV54zA0ypLVDlvJkEsvA49H2P38hP7CoipHmW0W1pLxEUYhODyK6VG5KICrw/s4608/DSCN0353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnLc2Puxc_9-yDaP1N5QoXRjN7PlGiPMJgPPJhyphenhyphenvCl7s7BUgGpjUC7tOWy7juWqo16dvgZP6kmQ6Q_PuIMV54zA0ypLVDlvJkEsvA49H2P38hP7CoipHmW0W1pLxEUYhODyK6VG5KICrw/w640-h480/DSCN0353.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">(Side note: I will say that something I had not anticipated was that with Maverick's passing, we are now a cat and gerbil family. I absolutely detest that.)</span></p><p><br /></p>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-36550214981667620352021-02-11T15:56:00.007-05:002021-02-11T18:11:42.032-05:00The Queen of Stall<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Our resident 2-year old is the only person in this house with her very own room, and I'm not sure she fully appreciates that situation. In fact, I'm quite sure she doesn't.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQXfXv0rOLuNVNF4U-G5jBJheXQXvECBOnB3AtPGO5_h8S3tcrAssd7KJSQSEK1W2dLjg5H20rntohSR2R4cz46WEcxZuPJCkixTxBB1XQGe2ycIyviIhJdvqhAClmke91gia_xFAyg1k/s2560/20201029_180205.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQXfXv0rOLuNVNF4U-G5jBJheXQXvECBOnB3AtPGO5_h8S3tcrAssd7KJSQSEK1W2dLjg5H20rntohSR2R4cz46WEcxZuPJCkixTxBB1XQGe2ycIyviIhJdvqhAClmke91gia_xFAyg1k/w360-h640/20201029_180205.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Every night, without fail, she comes up with a million little things she </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">really needs</i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> or something </span><i style="font-family: georgia;">very important</i><span style="font-family: georgia;"> we forgot to do.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">"I need a diffent baby doll."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">"You dinn't switch the books in my bed."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">"I haffa go potty."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">"We dinn't pway."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">"I dinn't sing 'Hot Cwoss Buns'" (which, I must admit, is one of my favorites because she does a mash-up with "Sing Hallelujah to the Lord" and sings, "Hot cwoss buns to da Yord").</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyn_0PhDFyZ0e97oX4JKNBP1hF9aoM6rJnaR5ehoahjfiNl4bfHIVTpDe94fEAjE42OqBKpg_J2G_fEs3n0-4ygr7AQFq_ycXNMQUA1YZJMmCGD9_KJZ_QLpdGTz_5RD0d_Cq4z4-4iWD/s5152/IMG_0326.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKyn_0PhDFyZ0e97oX4JKNBP1hF9aoM6rJnaR5ehoahjfiNl4bfHIVTpDe94fEAjE42OqBKpg_J2G_fEs3n0-4ygr7AQFq_ycXNMQUA1YZJMmCGD9_KJZ_QLpdGTz_5RD0d_Cq4z4-4iWD/w640-h480/IMG_0326.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">"I dinn't have a special dwink."</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpEvKG-wiXkUdi8X_MKTFusZBEL9DRWh95dCxL-dFkojEYkQGHYMGTYDANUoukU9CeVDg10n7yTfv4oKSPQ4Mvf8RFIupibpvCnbQGMVYl0OMcWspJmCqAqWnWSE6i-sBkb0CddQc0JCci/s2048/DSCN8710.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpEvKG-wiXkUdi8X_MKTFusZBEL9DRWh95dCxL-dFkojEYkQGHYMGTYDANUoukU9CeVDg10n7yTfv4oKSPQ4Mvf8RFIupibpvCnbQGMVYl0OMcWspJmCqAqWnWSE6i-sBkb0CddQc0JCci/w640-h480/DSCN8710.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosie (2) and River (4)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br />"Ben's in Fwoda! </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">[Florida]</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">"<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">"I dinn't kiss Papa."<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">"I dinn't kiss Lily."<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">"I dinn't kiss Abey."</span><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />"I dinn't kiss Mimi."<br />"I dinn't kiss Edee."<br />"I dinn't kiss Jon-Jon."<br />"I dinn't kiss Dideon </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">[Gideon]</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">."<br />"I dinn't kiss Sayum </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">[Salem]</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">."<br />"I dinn't kiss Ada."<br />"I dinn't kiss Zebby."<br />"I dinn't kiss Eve."<br />"I dinn't kiss Rivah </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">[River]</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">"You dinn't tell me what's foe bumfick </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">[breakfast]</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">It doesn't matter how many times we remind her that this is the <i>last</i> thing she may request, or how many issues we try to conquer beforehand (All kisses given? Check. Baby doll of the day? Check. New books in bed? Check), there is always <i>one last thing.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Last night's was, "</span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I need socks! My feet are FWOZEN."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5jH9fLgqvT1ZCISd1TXlJKZ0d0n5yWltNSYUHIZ7j4thUS0VcPJZm_4rXiX7leuow5307oFTjYpy8jWeVP69JnMtywVuhOEvUu69m26zgruX-_BrdCB6T-1QdeR5pXDXMXK-3yKlntFz/s2048/DSCN8946.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5jH9fLgqvT1ZCISd1TXlJKZ0d0n5yWltNSYUHIZ7j4thUS0VcPJZm_4rXiX7leuow5307oFTjYpy8jWeVP69JnMtywVuhOEvUu69m26zgruX-_BrdCB6T-1QdeR5pXDXMXK-3yKlntFz/w640-h480/DSCN8946.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">River (4), Eve (5), and Rosie (2)</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: large;">At prayer meeting last night, someone asked for prayer for a niece, stating, "Young mothers are just so tired."</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I wanted to quip back, "You should see the old mothers!"</span></p><p>(There is a video imbedded in this post. If you received this in your email, you might have to <a href="http://eightbawl.blogspot.com">click over</a> to see it.)</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/k9ouYbGZoBs" width="320" youtube-src-id="k9ouYbGZoBs"></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-39429375752084732492020-05-25T23:22:00.000-04:002020-05-26T14:05:24.027-04:00Graduation<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This past Saturday, May 23, 2020, we had our first high school graduate. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1yLO7tPF7q16vk-p3-nVPGrbeXI1-k-sTkFMYUG-yedR_uVmK84ZuGU4o7Qp5KLvsRSHMFSR-iP7SJFrdoQd6SHzSaC7mJqfi3HSwAISmqjBSfyqh3StQDPl2lfLdgDOfPajLzeF4P_GL/s1600/IMG_0156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1yLO7tPF7q16vk-p3-nVPGrbeXI1-k-sTkFMYUG-yedR_uVmK84ZuGU4o7Qp5KLvsRSHMFSR-iP7SJFrdoQd6SHzSaC7mJqfi3HSwAISmqjBSfyqh3StQDPl2lfLdgDOfPajLzeF4P_GL/s640/IMG_0156.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Benjamin (18), sporting his <a href="https://classofcovid19.threadless.com/mens/t-shirt/extra-soft" target="_blank">graduation shirt</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The news abounds with reports of high school seniors who are suffering due to graduation plans being chucked this year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In this house, we have seen nothing of<i> that</i> senior.<i> This</i> senior could not be more thrilled with the lack of pomp and circumstance. This was exactly the kind of graduation party he would have ordered, were I the kind of mother who would have taken his order. Like father, like son, that one is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Even when I asked him what he would like for a celebratory dinner, he answered, "Meh, whatever's fine. We had a really good meal last Sunday. That's enough."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I cannot imagine an easier student for a harried, distracted, perpetually exhausted teacher with a million loads of laundry to <strike>load</strike> holler after someone to load and a million meals to fix and half a million non-school-related books calling her name.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He has been so easy. He enjoys learning and does so quickly and independently, reads much faster and comprehends far more than I, and has the dignity and respect to never mention these things.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I know them. And very, very frequently, I thank God for them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I told him he *had* to let me take his picture on his official Graduation Day, he humored me but only under duress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then the Little Girls came outside, fresh from their Saturday evening baths, and suddenly the sparkle came back into his eyes.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ben in his more natural stance: arms full</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">This summer, he
heads to Florida to attend Reformation Bible College. He has already met his
apartment-mates online, and we are thrilled with the future that waits for him.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">And the future that
waits for us! It is such a thrilling, exhilarating thing to watch the Lord's
work, in spite of ours, in our children. Daily we marvel at His goodness. Daily
we groan and laugh and wonder at how He moves and performs His will.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">When I grew a little
somber and mused to Ethan, "We have a college student!!!" Ethan
quickly grounded me by saying,</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">"We have ONE."</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">Which does, you know,
put things into perspective.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">My work is not done.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">So we will keep on doing
the dishes and washing the clothes and threatening to meet any
school-related eye-rolling and deep sighing with trash cans that need to be
washed out. And we will keep cheering Ben on, and grumbling over his puns, and
updating him on the Little Girl Antics.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">Back to work, Ben.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18.0pt;">You, and me, and them.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "&quot" , serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rosie, getting the bubble mowing done</span></td></tr>
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<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-8218009745057623132020-05-23T09:30:00.000-04:002020-05-23T10:30:35.016-04:00Patience<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #222222; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Ethan has been preaching through Genesis. He was preaching about Noah and the ark and how long they were on the ark, and he mentioned the amount of patience and waiting on the Lord that took. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">(Eve, 4, waiting for us to leave for church)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I had just read James that week, and these two portions were being brought to mind: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">"My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing" (James 1:2-4).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">AND</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">"Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, waiting patiently for it until it receives the early and latter rain. You also be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand" (James 5:7-8).</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">River (3) came to wait with her.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I was struck with the thought that the Christian is <i>never</i> in a holding pattern. We are<i> never</i> to be stagnant spiritually. It's never, "When such-and-such happens, then I will really be able to work on this spiritual issue..." As Rachel Jankovic says in her book<i> You Who</i>: "You are always in the midst of your most important spiritual work." There is <i>never</i> a time when we are not able to do the work God has for us. Every second we are fully able (because HE is fully able to work in us!) to carry out our spiritual duties. James makes it so clear that patience is far from some sterile waiting room of "waiting until I can start moving again -- waiting until thus-and-such happens and I can really live out my doctrine -- etc." I am never "just sitting on this boat, nothing happening to me spiritually because I can't get off this boat...." Patience is <i>active</i>. Patience has a work -- the Lord uses patience to work in me. It is *not* doing nothing. And what am I to do while being patient? Count it all joy! Establish my heart! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The "Little Girls," as we call them, waiting for Papa to put in a window bird feeder (River, Rose [20 mos.], and Eve)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This was such an eye-opener for me! Now I view this time of "waiting" for --- for whatever it is that is coming, with my marching orders. OK. So I give thanks for this time. We are told to count it all joy to have to have patience. I determine not to complain. My children have been getting civics lessons, as I think part of our current problem in the United States is that people do not understand our form of government (Hello, Governors, we are not a tyranny, and you are not lawmakers). We have been talking about the rule of law, what that means, and what are godly responses when you live in a constitutional republic and the authorities that God has placed above you are breaking that rule of law. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Bible commands me to rejoice. And the Lord has graciously made that so easy. I mean, LOOK at this gang (Ben [18], Mimi [14], Edee [13])!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We have been discussing what <i>if</i> people were as concerned about the possibility of getting and spreading <i>sin</i> as they are about getting and spreading COVID-19? Are we diligent in keeping our hearts clean, in staying away from thoughts and deeds that will spread lies and deception and death? Do we rejoice in reading God's Word, in talking about Him constantly to each other, in fellowshipping with the saints, because we know that herein is life and health and peace? Do we remember the armor of the Lord as fervently as people remember their masks?</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our Resident 12yo, Jon-Jon, constantly reminds us to social-distance. But it doesn't work, as evidenced in the above "Jon-Jon Sandwich": Abe (14), Jon-Jon (12), Gideon (10).</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Regardless of what economic/medical statements will be made, I want to look back on this time and remember the faithfulness of the Lord to my family. I want to remember it as a time when we searched His Word, rejoiced in His provisions to us, and noted His goodness in the midst of the folly of men. That is the work that patience can do, and that is so life-giving to me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Rosie and Edee</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br /></span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-17232826273878583532019-02-19T20:56:00.001-05:002019-02-19T20:56:35.028-05:00Rose Sharon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Rose Sharon Allison</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">September 21, 2018</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">12:33 PM</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">8 lbs., 12 oz.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">20.5"</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_MDoq-Ivv0OUSkp2MftRrvW1Eh633PpTzk87xTyr-2uE5Lrz1Z5khaX3H3pv54Lhl91obZUt9Fp7ax9LZyj661IOzWG8kmdHIyVFUAnxtj-Sms5Efygnjbqw9P83o2HKsJbzW6DTkr4A/s1600/20180921_211803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_MDoq-Ivv0OUSkp2MftRrvW1Eh633PpTzk87xTyr-2uE5Lrz1Z5khaX3H3pv54Lhl91obZUt9Fp7ax9LZyj661IOzWG8kmdHIyVFUAnxtj-Sms5Efygnjbqw9P83o2HKsJbzW6DTkr4A/s640/20180921_211803.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yes, she is almost five months old. And yes, I know this is the first mention I've made of her on here. But it's only because she is so very wonderful and cuddly and a wee bit demanding and fits into this family perfectly. Which is to say, my days are very, very, very, very full.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In the best sort of way, of course!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Her actual birth was … forgettable, to be frank. And, might I add, that is the best kind of birth to have. I was not traumatized from it, there were no lingering complications, and I cannot for the life of me remember the details of the birth as much as I can remember the obligatory post-birth Outback Steakhouse steak, which we devoured in the hospital room with the REAL SILVERWARE we remembered to pack from the house! (Eating an Outback steak with a plastic fork is a definite downer.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I do remember the day before, however. My water had broken the night before, on Wednesday. Thursday I announced, "Today we walk! We will have this baby!" and Ethan and I left the Older Children in charge with plenty to eat and went walking. We started at the Star Trail, and then walked the Verona Trail, and then we headed down the road to try BBQ at a campground we had heard recommended from a man in line at another BBQ joint. This is the campground with a million pet rabbits who ate the pieces of bun I threw at them. This is also the campground where our GPS took leave of its senses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtp9aLCKZ9DUDO0DXydqLNTAqIkdfh0f3fgSL0QGwuNar1U9DnBW4J22ERIbcH1NSXcXR164rUfXGIezPUeqYqqJ_L_wCY3zL_z89eMSJ6HKccDwsw7IuYYaxD-hi7dvp7lx8Mt9EOwDO2/s1600/20180920_122849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtp9aLCKZ9DUDO0DXydqLNTAqIkdfh0f3fgSL0QGwuNar1U9DnBW4J22ERIbcH1NSXcXR164rUfXGIezPUeqYqqJ_L_wCY3zL_z89eMSJ6HKccDwsw7IuYYaxD-hi7dvp7lx8Mt9EOwDO2/s640/20180920_122849.jpg" width="640" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjIkVS9UoVVHtPy7-l5TZpwkqOIunSwRp-WZdVDPoMLQJEqWprsxrxbqUo_hlx7KO_AEnqrbv-oKQLW1qfzzOzdwRq73jXBsoI9VLOub4-F6cztw6b2cfPPSFULDLB4Sk_iEAKSVA3Qxv/s1600/20180920_143625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjIkVS9UoVVHtPy7-l5TZpwkqOIunSwRp-WZdVDPoMLQJEqWprsxrxbqUo_hlx7KO_AEnqrbv-oKQLW1qfzzOzdwRq73jXBsoI9VLOub4-F6cztw6b2cfPPSFULDLB4Sk_iEAKSVA3Qxv/s640/20180920_143625.jpg" width="640" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After the brief lunch, we headed up the mountains, past a freshly dead timber rattlesnake, to hike part of the Appalachian Trail, which we did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMe15Sk7kK6eoYU5Xwd8m1pUTNi204O1Kc4ZeBgzwUc2qtr3U5Q2zY1k06DXXwgoWDSW2FcoI2grD2ang38IIBzRiMyIfc5bfB8Q1TcPo5jaC6jrm2S7mTQFx7HpAh6CFwvFZPOG8r-w8/s1600/20180920_144740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMe15Sk7kK6eoYU5Xwd8m1pUTNi204O1Kc4ZeBgzwUc2qtr3U5Q2zY1k06DXXwgoWDSW2FcoI2grD2ang38IIBzRiMyIfc5bfB8Q1TcPo5jaC6jrm2S7mTQFx7HpAh6CFwvFZPOG8r-w8/s640/20180920_144740.jpg" width="640" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There were a few overnight hikers who were excitedly starting their hikes from our trail, and we quickly moved to the side while they laughed and sang out and hiked their packs higher on their backs. I hiked my belly up and declared, "This is probably enough of this" and turned back to head back to the car. It took us about two minutes to make it back to the parking lot. Does that count as hiking? It is probably more correct to say I set foot on the Appalachian Trail that day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlm6uXP1Y_oKDzo8-k_SgrOI7BPWEAi22oClhQ5v7Ek2fCFeYfPmugfsWayuZtYaJ5D-qFQeksIpBLwjsox5sxBPqOwKK5rrgkFcudbg7xpI8Ug5sdBFzNFrBdCBoomYdqoMrlHRoRZbs/s1600/20180920_140002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlm6uXP1Y_oKDzo8-k_SgrOI7BPWEAi22oClhQ5v7Ek2fCFeYfPmugfsWayuZtYaJ5D-qFQeksIpBLwjsox5sxBPqOwKK5rrgkFcudbg7xpI8Ug5sdBFzNFrBdCBoomYdqoMrlHRoRZbs/s640/20180920_140002.jpg" width="480" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Then we walked around the Humpback Rocks Farm and imagined trying to do things with our family way back when -- laundry washing and drying, raising all our own food, making all our own hard cider. My life was looking decidedly easier.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCXqNr5VIM1k7k8ulKxR9KdO1XgHOzkpQNCiJcoNbX5EgxVdM6SiRe30FdnVBAznGO-WVZ7P1ysp2fIw02Y_8FEUb1el8HMs-C_MMzUZXltYmsjXvuDjNocx1Maw_iPOgzgCXZrbB_1s7G/s1600/20180920_140010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCXqNr5VIM1k7k8ulKxR9KdO1XgHOzkpQNCiJcoNbX5EgxVdM6SiRe30FdnVBAznGO-WVZ7P1ysp2fIw02Y_8FEUb1el8HMs-C_MMzUZXltYmsjXvuDjNocx1Maw_iPOgzgCXZrbB_1s7G/s640/20180920_140010.jpg" width="480" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was a beautiful day. It was a wonderful, long, leisurely, special date. It will be forever implanted (I hope) in my mind -- it is rare that I "live in the moment" -- but I was so fully aware of the fact that our family was about to change, and my normal pre-birth fears and sense of overwhelm were being successfully suppressed by the knowledge that this, too, would pass, and a wonderful family awaited this newest one and would do above and beyond what I needed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4YLAJxvkeXIJqDE1dVQoi1K6TNeMLXI8Qv0vqzPp4fQba7nRGcZJ6g1PW50GzcX5GipTYVONGIDz-kbxGoAfz4BQmmoJlSRCUh4C81x6bfnocerAtV0BSJtKmondCSCta8duO2K_bsVT/s1600/20180920_144847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4YLAJxvkeXIJqDE1dVQoi1K6TNeMLXI8Qv0vqzPp4fQba7nRGcZJ6g1PW50GzcX5GipTYVONGIDz-kbxGoAfz4BQmmoJlSRCUh4C81x6bfnocerAtV0BSJtKmondCSCta8duO2K_bsVT/s640/20180920_144847.jpg" width="640" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We continued to find little places to pull over and admire God's creation, marveling at the many butterflies and the vulture airing its wings on a rock overlooking the ranges of mountains. It was spectacular. And I kept thinking, "God made all of this! It all declares His glory! And so, Little One, will you! And that is just incredible."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2_O6Z3F039mM46NdiiUV_Bz_C_TqGe1exFxXNvxhXfh6Si8OqAhPEUk7wVHchayE_2yv6AY1-bYOHniooXoTm00rmVCQLX8-5zhsQE0R5uXy4HhVI4LrDk8BQcM2GfDh0k4W2xKFu3to/s1600/20180920_135949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2_O6Z3F039mM46NdiiUV_Bz_C_TqGe1exFxXNvxhXfh6Si8OqAhPEUk7wVHchayE_2yv6AY1-bYOHniooXoTm00rmVCQLX8-5zhsQE0R5uXy4HhVI4LrDk8BQcM2GfDh0k4W2xKFu3to/s640/20180920_135949.jpg" width="640" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And the next day, when the contractions were hard and strong, we headed to the hospital. Of course, there was not a single contraction the whole way there, so we turned around in the parking lot and headed to the Star Trail to walk some more. We walked, and then we headed to Aldi's for easy foods for the kids and then drove home, and then we decided to wait until the regularly scheduled doctor's appointment at 11:30. At the appointment, the doctor and nurse were making bets as to how far along I was. The doctor said a 6, the nurse said a 4, and Ethan said an 8. He was closest, of course. I was at a 9, so they sent me over to the hospital; and I honestly remember very little after that, until hearing, "It's a girl!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ethan had put his order in for another girl. She fits the bill beautifully. She twists my hair around her fists while she nurses, and she squawks her opinions loudly, and she has the best whole-face smile in the world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8r7OV0g5z1REM2KCb-Znyh49jMMFlL4hmVAgzNMlsm4bbbuqbwh5G0XdLv-DwnjL_svygjrBneH3ZmsgZ4MqRRj0FDE9hP5c1pZGLF59_krRKQ8lmmOxsyVP6ClJzjx4KSEnBgIY_kYY/s1600/20181001_131527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV8r7OV0g5z1REM2KCb-Znyh49jMMFlL4hmVAgzNMlsm4bbbuqbwh5G0XdLv-DwnjL_svygjrBneH3ZmsgZ4MqRRj0FDE9hP5c1pZGLF59_krRKQ8lmmOxsyVP6ClJzjx4KSEnBgIY_kYY/s640/20181001_131527.jpg" width="480" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She has these gorgeous, dark, intense brown eyes and looks exactly like Lily (15) did at that age. It's so wonderful to hold a mini-Lily! My two flower-girls -- Lily and Rose -- most certainly belong together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And so do all the rest of them. The Lord has most certainly hedged me behind and before, and laid His hand upon me (Ps. 139:5). And I am so very thankful, and my days are so very full, and it is all so very, very good.</span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-31056749714841981532018-01-02T08:04:00.000-05:002018-01-02T14:16:49.217-05:00First Day Hike<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It has been one of my goals to get Outside as a family more -- farther than the backyard. We used to be Out all the time. Lately (as in, the last few years), it has been not-so-much. I was frustrated by this, but then I had one of those Plain as Day insights hit me a few weeks ago: it is a huge effort to just do daily life with this large of a group. It doesn't always <i>feel</i> like a huge effort, but that is due to being blessed with a spouse and children who seem to have an endless supply of good humor.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The reality is, many days there is also an endless supply of dirty laundry, meals that must be cooked, and groceries that must be stocked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There was something comforting in that realization.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So then I could move on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Virginia State Parks are free on January 1. "That's it!" I declared. "We are going to go to a state park on New Year's!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">No one cheered.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The predicted high was 21 degrees, we have two dedicated nappers who most certainly would be missing their naps, and there is always the issue of What to Eat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But I was not going to be thwarted. I threw some ham-and-cheese sandwiches in the oven, Miriam (12) put together some trail mix baggies, and Ada (5) and Zebby (4) helped me make S'mores Brownies (proving, once again, that <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Year-Picnics-Recipes-Dining-Outdoors/dp/1611802156" target="_blank">Ashley English</a> and I are from different worlds. She is from a world where you make S'mores Brownies for a winter picnic and then photograph them for a book whose genre is probably best described as Escapism. I am from a world where you should be anticipating the innate problems in making brownies<i> with sticky marshmallows on top</i> to be eaten in a van and nowhere near a sink. I think I gain a point for packing forks but lose about twenty for entertaining the idea at all and another forty for carrying through).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It didn't really matter. The food issue was conquered, and that was the main thing. We would not starve to death on the 45-minute drive to the Natural Bridge. I scarfed down my usual "Breakfast Lunch": two fried eggs with ham and a <a href="https://alldayidreamaboutfood.com/best-low-carb-cranberry-muffins/" target="_blank">cranberry muffin</a>, we packed the water bottles and the dog and some low-carb shortbread cookies and the rest of the food, bundled everyone up and then added some more bundling, and headed out.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7Eyg9C5zOCfOEhqD8M8AElqxjSJaskuE7RyS36xaaC9z_kdhyt3BCB-S6WWTQfxNbRS6kPQCCsn3sxESRKe6Upop2AKQcXv3ysj7fvH13pbCoe0ydJPmTtcdtoegXhMxRzCgE1XDVKCi/s1600/0101181350a-EFFECTS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="651" data-original-width="366" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7Eyg9C5zOCfOEhqD8M8AElqxjSJaskuE7RyS36xaaC9z_kdhyt3BCB-S6WWTQfxNbRS6kPQCCsn3sxESRKe6Upop2AKQcXv3ysj7fvH13pbCoe0ydJPmTtcdtoegXhMxRzCgE1XDVKCi/s640/0101181350a-EFFECTS.jpg" width="358" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was so worth it. Even though the "hike" ended at the bridge (icicles hanging from it prevented the rangers from letting people pass under it), the chance to Do Something Else with the family was golden. (It was at about this spot pictured above that we saw a black lab whose owner said exasperatingly, "Calm down. What is WITH you, Maverick??" at which point I had to ask if her dog's name was Maverick, because that is our dog's name, too...and I think our Maverick was as confused as I was!)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eve, 2</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Zebby, 4</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">River, 1</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlni1o0J89vGlwx75z6CGrcbpX-7pJJOkRRkvn-LRRGC5EAjidF6gsR9f6-wpYFgTgH172ZpejMd-3NfDEEbuSU2HSPk0d22sqb4KdFrcrSE_0CUrqSOJL26xQRnkaZWPJVfjlCe7SIYLp/s1600/0101181351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlni1o0J89vGlwx75z6CGrcbpX-7pJJOkRRkvn-LRRGC5EAjidF6gsR9f6-wpYFgTgH172ZpejMd-3NfDEEbuSU2HSPk0d22sqb4KdFrcrSE_0CUrqSOJL26xQRnkaZWPJVfjlCe7SIYLp/s640/0101181351.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lily (14) caught Ethan sneaking a picture</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One of the perks of getting Out, I must admit, is that it is more fun to embarrass your children. When Jonathan (9) saw Ethan's hat, he said, "I guess Papa's job is to make me not feel so silly."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">"Oh, yeah?" said Ethan. "What if I do this? Come here, my boy." And then he did this, and I snapped the picture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And I loved every bit of it. I loved the cold, I loved the napping little one, I loved the warmth when we got in from the cold, I loved that the gift shop featured the <a href="http://kirstensclay.com/" target="_blank">artisan</a> who made Ben's mug that I broke a year ago so that I could finally replace it, I loved meeting another canine Maverick, I loved the stubborn, independent two-year old insisting on pushing her own stroller.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">(Well, OK. I did<i> not</i> love our Maverick peeing on the signpost<i> just inside</i> of the building,<i> right before</i> you get out to the trail. Maverick, that was incredibly stupid. And also, hurry on up and get out of here before anyone notices.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">It was invigorating, and exasperating (Maverick and sticky brownies and stubborn stroller-pusher), and altogether lovely.</span></div>
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<i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><i></i><br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-59944575404401554092017-08-15T08:43:00.001-04:002017-08-15T08:43:46.341-04:00First Days of School<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"Thank goodness I was never sent to school;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">it would have rubbed off some of the originality."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">~Beatrix Potter</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This morning has been quiet. River (9 mos.) was up at 6:00, but she has already had a diaper change, nursed, and gone back to sleep. I have relished the silence, reading </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Fine-Romance-Falling-English-Countryside/dp/0984913661" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;" target="_blank">my English countryside book</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> and sipping a now-lukewarm coffee in the grey light of this misty, drizzly morning, listening to the buses drive down our own wet countryside road on their way to the school down the lane.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">River, at Saturday's church pool party. A fitting end to summer!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; text-align: center;">We started school yesterday. I faced the new year with a mix of eagerness and dread. I am always overwhelmed by the sheer logistics of this thing called school. Too easily, I succumb to the weight of the realities of life...those things called children, and laundry, and meals, and doctor's appointments, and dog food.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">However.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Yesterday was delightful. It was a mad rush of things, trying to quickly explain which books were whose and what was expected while also getting the ripped paper out of River's mouth and <i>for heaven's sake, Older Children, GET OUT OF BED</i>!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Things did seem to move right along once we tackled the getting out of bed part. Funny, that.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3Q79rBS5dqwGNafdK0kRFarGBbpfgNw8VhGVguHdLXJEEULpdC0gLFMcrSiOfB_I43-cGD4UlRZlqjtmMvd6q5eVnXDQWmpZypGyNRI2HnNMGigwzFc-n7QGlNPp3OkxwnXjDX0aVa9t/s1600/0709171409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3Q79rBS5dqwGNafdK0kRFarGBbpfgNw8VhGVguHdLXJEEULpdC0gLFMcrSiOfB_I43-cGD4UlRZlqjtmMvd6q5eVnXDQWmpZypGyNRI2HnNMGigwzFc-n7QGlNPp3OkxwnXjDX0aVa9t/s640/0709171409.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I absolutely love this mix of kids. But NOT, I must admit, their week's worth of dirty laundry from camp.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Despite my complete expectations that there would be complaints and mutiny among the ranks (as we say, "If they are complaining, it does not mean we're doing something wrong. It just means they're still alive"), there was not any. The children were excited by the new books and attentive during the readings (both mine and theirs) and careful to keep on-task.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There is, I must admit, a contagious excitement that comes with freshly sharpened pencils and a sense of Things That Must Be Done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">A waning excitement, I am sure, but excitement nonetheless!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And now Ada (5) is here, waving my days-old birthday balloon and wearing Gideon's bowler hat, Eden (10) is reading Beatrix Potter to Eve (2) and Zebby (4), and Lily's Baked Oatmeal is ready on the stove (a perk of homeschooling: you can say, "Preparing breakfast for the next day is part of your 'Culinary Studies' class each afternoon..."), and my mug most definitely needs a refill.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">School days are here again!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is a poem my mother used to say often. I don't know why. But it is the first poem I teach my children each school year.</span></td></tr>
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<img src="https://www.susanbranch.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/Purple-Cow-e1346321778393.jpg" />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-86083678069494320852017-05-10T19:43:00.000-04:002017-05-10T19:43:27.316-04:00Yakkity yak<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Sunday, I was rummaging through the church refrigerator trying to find some cream for my coffee, when I landed upon a suspect mound of butter on a plate from who-knows-what and who-knows-when. I stirred some of it into my coffee and turned to go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">"You know," said Kenley, watching me, "we had some friends who were missionaries in Tibet. They shared some Tibetan tea with us when they were in the States. They put butter in their tea, only it was yak butter. They packed a whole bag full of yak butter to bring back here with them. They loved the stuff. So I have had some, but....eh...."</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;">"YAK butter?" I asked. "Did it taste gamey?"</span></div>
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"No," he responded. "More like...well..."</div>
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"Rancid?" I prodded.</div>
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<br /></div>
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"Yes. A little bit rancid."</div>
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<br /></div>
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And that was pretty much it. I think I got distracted by some child, and then there were other children to scoot along their way to Sunday School.</div>
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Until.</div>
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<div>
That very afternoon, I was all hunkered down for a nap with a delicious book in my very favorite series ever (thank you, Mom). And, would-you-believe-this, and yes-I-poked-Ethan-and-made-him-listen, on page 93, half a page in to my reading, THIS is what I read:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">'Is this the milk?' queried Betty, sniffing at a small jug. 'Smells a bit off to me.'</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">'Oh, that will do, dear. I really don't mind it slightly cheesy. After all, the Tibetans always use rancid milk in their tea -- and </span><i><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">yak's</span></i><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"> milk at that.'</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">'I think I'll have mine black,' said Betty, and the two settled happily at the kitchen table for ten minutes' gossip about the newcomers to Thrush Green.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">(Friends at Thrush Green</span></i><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">, p. 93)</span> </div>
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And of course I brought the book to evening worship to show Kenley.</div>
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And now I'm showing you.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia"; font-size: large;"></span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-74339544478469887972017-05-08T08:02:00.000-04:002017-05-08T08:02:52.901-04:005.8.2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Chantrelle Dimarco says she loves to create areas of "wild wonder" in everyday locales for Teague and Finley.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"It will spark their imaginations, calm their hearts, and create a space of everyday joy."</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohcOqA7_FdyMYcCTt8uu_b2WO7Iloj2PWP8Adq1n1LRgXKfoyMb-qYZIgVl_bnkJNX5t4tmJSbtPHfWKWNze408F1Wh6lUU1vmsKHpGdn0bxyoCe1x5lqTdPlX98JIN5-uFoBKUxbnQte/s1600/0505171732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohcOqA7_FdyMYcCTt8uu_b2WO7Iloj2PWP8Adq1n1LRgXKfoyMb-qYZIgVl_bnkJNX5t4tmJSbtPHfWKWNze408F1Wh6lUU1vmsKHpGdn0bxyoCe1x5lqTdPlX98JIN5-uFoBKUxbnQte/s640/0505171732.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><snort></snort></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This husband of mine. The previous is an email he sent me, proving that even he can pose as a <a href="http://eightbawl.blogspot.com/2017/05/552017.html" target="_blank">thirty-something eco-conscious minimalist mother of two from New York City</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When really, this. The wider view:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg804ISrAVZps8vluYoDRMFTBtSIy3Tm2-VcS5RT_X_xV5zZf5Zn9Hxk2dfPFb8R5k6pcEqIKAIDqKuMaytYSfHMayjzNNR_1L2shLaobh3gtQPIhkHj0uGYZYZVhh2mMtqT8jzX113enke/s1600/0505171733a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg804ISrAVZps8vluYoDRMFTBtSIy3Tm2-VcS5RT_X_xV5zZf5Zn9Hxk2dfPFb8R5k6pcEqIKAIDqKuMaytYSfHMayjzNNR_1L2shLaobh3gtQPIhkHj0uGYZYZVhh2mMtqT8jzX113enke/s640/0505171733a.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So I suppose that does make me feel better. We do have the necessary components for minimalism. They are just hiding behind all the stuff.</span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-55302805513238531742017-05-05T08:19:00.000-04:002017-05-05T08:19:58.830-04:005.5.2017<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I was reading an eye candy of a book yesterday. The genre was my kind of escapism: a primer of sorts on eco-conscious minimalism and simplicity, written by a mother of two in her early thirties who lives in New York City.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is a gorgeous book. Her tidy teensy apartment has no plastic, no disposables, no junk.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In one of the pictures, there are two beautiful white bowls of berries (one of blueberries, one of strawberries) placed on a linen towel. The caption reads, "I find that keeping bowls of fruit out on the kitchen table means they actually get devoured instead of shriveling up in the fridge."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was such a pretty picture.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So yesterday, instead of slicing half a pound of strawberries into minuscule pieces and creating a glaze to go on top of shortcake, which is my usual route, I decided to cut two pounds into slices and put them in our painted strawberry enamel bowl to generously share with my family. The strawberries were not purchased at the farmer's market, they were not carried home in a cloth bag, and they were not de-leaved with a wooden-handled artisan knife. But they were placed, in a bowl, out in the open. I felt a kinship with the younger, suaver, trendier author.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Halfway through our meal, I asked the other side of the table to pass down the strawberries. "There are no more strawberries," they said. Three of us still had not gotten any. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It is when you need a mid-meal shopping trip that you realize the shortcomings and dystopianism of minimalism in a family of fourteen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I should also mention that there is a blatant oxymoronish tint to it all, too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ethan was not surprised. After all, two pounds of strawberries divided between thirteen eating people is less than generous. And he was also not surprised that, on our second grocery trip of the day, we picked up more strawberries.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"You know," he said, in response to my exasperation, "if you were discerning about which teensy corners of our house to photo and crop and embellish and post online, you could have people believing you were a mother of two in your early thirties in New York City."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">No. No. I never could.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I should have paid more attention to what the author said. "</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I find that keeping bowls of fruit out on the kitchen table means they actually get devoured instead of shriveling up in the fridge." That is exactly what happened. Set on the other side of the table, that is exactly what happened. My side of the table never saw those strawberries.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is exactly why I do not keep bowls of fruit out on the kitchen table.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Lesson learned, I think. And here is the lesson: mother-of-twelve trying to re-enact mother-of-two's tale of eco-conscious minimalistic simplicity is perhaps enacting quite another genre: FICTION. And bad fiction, at that. Hungry, exasperated, frustrated bad fiction.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In other news, photos from the past few months. Not cropped, not embellished, not eco-friendly. I just don't have the time, and also I'm hungry.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB8ka7HXqM7I1vp4xyd38Y29DXu7e4JL4BD_YYI9oLZZ_mQr9Iyc9z-1rbsBxJUnsnJyRIHC5TWUIM7HVl_LG_xcz0w9Nf9-tRScRNs5ssleWz__Yk5EtUi0si7ubjiVeIKfeeFP7zbMq9/s1600/DSCN1296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB8ka7HXqM7I1vp4xyd38Y29DXu7e4JL4BD_YYI9oLZZ_mQr9Iyc9z-1rbsBxJUnsnJyRIHC5TWUIM7HVl_LG_xcz0w9Nf9-tRScRNs5ssleWz__Yk5EtUi0si7ubjiVeIKfeeFP7zbMq9/s640/DSCN1296.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">River, Eve, and Grandma Allison on Easter</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTqPIdcCaXIviXcU3EnC8HNA1PmZJYnDDaRTJthDh9lW_S7SEN-fFcrUohTxI7s2czMz9ZOjKlrO0ohgZR_d4K7guHgH6cMb-1Y4mpekyHQCD55MblylwVLS801AWY4M0osuR0tsa55txY/s1600/IMG_4045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTqPIdcCaXIviXcU3EnC8HNA1PmZJYnDDaRTJthDh9lW_S7SEN-fFcrUohTxI7s2czMz9ZOjKlrO0ohgZR_d4K7guHgH6cMb-1Y4mpekyHQCD55MblylwVLS801AWY4M0osuR0tsa55txY/s640/IMG_4045.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Trying to gather the masses for a family picture the day of River's baptism (February)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Mzczq_FMqs6EMlp0sklF6oW-vzpZ4nvWIScZ7MAoIL0kZcQ0cG4tCpxeIjVmpRH2o7RlBInUGfE5DKIRieAiR4xEa5QO-7x-yAoJ9tuMV8DPtnm8kl6bbIOAd6z5bT2CmA9NM9Wi5nPB/s1600/IMG_4046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Mzczq_FMqs6EMlp0sklF6oW-vzpZ4nvWIScZ7MAoIL0kZcQ0cG4tCpxeIjVmpRH2o7RlBInUGfE5DKIRieAiR4xEa5QO-7x-yAoJ9tuMV8DPtnm8kl6bbIOAd6z5bT2CmA9NM9Wi5nPB/s640/IMG_4046.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ah. There we all are. All grandparents and children accounted for!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlqAeri2Gg6XPNsjlDV_JyJx-gMGCEOI51sI_8Tme5Dh7Ef9nUfQWhQeMW3ZsrDwSOi9uZWec8ycIs_HiqOiKFIfIT2vUeI_3iMlEZauC4TUGsXKZ8pesTJPp_BqWml9p0vt_sRmVg_yl/s1600/0220171716e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlqAeri2Gg6XPNsjlDV_JyJx-gMGCEOI51sI_8Tme5Dh7Ef9nUfQWhQeMW3ZsrDwSOi9uZWec8ycIs_HiqOiKFIfIT2vUeI_3iMlEZauC4TUGsXKZ8pesTJPp_BqWml9p0vt_sRmVg_yl/s640/0220171716e.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gwendolyn, our Outdoor Cat AHEM, with Maverick.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHdxTSI17NrJnibnj6l8WAFzfR1hPiUcdsQHaOG9apK3wCgEOBi3XMPvhYFvvUmNQjQNBSpuChtV1u3DbTUq1ZlYGlKcSR4epgIlx2Bwh9arrUSngu343AbPz2lKRAYVPXXc4eA7AlE7M/s1600/0310171238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIHdxTSI17NrJnibnj6l8WAFzfR1hPiUcdsQHaOG9apK3wCgEOBi3XMPvhYFvvUmNQjQNBSpuChtV1u3DbTUq1ZlYGlKcSR4epgIlx2Bwh9arrUSngu343AbPz2lKRAYVPXXc4eA7AlE7M/s640/0310171238.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gwendolyn, our Outdoor Cat AHEM, again.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKBWvVtUgbBp0qP9BKv2zvt2jzdJm3s4KHmgUH0JAnPl14iUkL-5YiSX-2q4jLE9kZ7L91lqvEpHjCzGQbjNeAHb_Y1UT-RK21a2UAmwUcPR36O0Iekttc9LM9yzcGfDDe4Ei4BUPCrl4/s1600/0310171250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKBWvVtUgbBp0qP9BKv2zvt2jzdJm3s4KHmgUH0JAnPl14iUkL-5YiSX-2q4jLE9kZ7L91lqvEpHjCzGQbjNeAHb_Y1UT-RK21a2UAmwUcPR36O0Iekttc9LM9yzcGfDDe4Ei4BUPCrl4/s640/0310171250.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">River</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-8440378174762452992016-12-03T20:55:00.002-05:002016-12-03T20:55:21.922-05:00And how it really went...<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There is a reason I don't do to-do lists. And the reason is that they never get to-done. That leaves one feeling slightly deflated. For instance, if I look at this--</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><u>Today's List</u>:</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean boys' room</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean girls' room</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><strike>Clean Eve's room (storage room)</strike></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean master bedroom</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean bathrooms</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Straighten downstairs</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Straighten outside</span></li>
<li><strike><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Pinecones lightly dipped in white paint for garlands for the windows</span></strike></li>
<li><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;"> Mixed nuts in bowls</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">Snowflakes and Swedish stars here and there</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><strike>Cinnamon rolls for Sunday</strike></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/swiss-sandwich-cookies-spitzbuben-104427" target="_blank">Swiss Sandwich Cookies</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/342387/chocolate-espresso-snowcaps" target="_blank">Chocolate Espresso Snowcaps</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/spritz_cookies/" target="_blank">Spritz Cookies</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><u><strike><a href="http://pleasantviewschoolhouse.blogspot.com/2007/10/schoolhouse-gingerbread-with-chocolate.html" target="_blank">Gingerbread</a></strike></u></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/354786/chocolate-panforte" target="_blank"><u><strike>Chocolate Panforte</strike></u></a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><u><strike>Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies</strike></u></span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">--well, all I see is what didn't happen today.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">WHEREAS...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">a Done List is much more satisfying.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><u>Done</u>:</span></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean Eve's room (storage room)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">Pinecones lightly dipped in white paint for garlands for the windows.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Cinnamon rolls for Sunday</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://pleasantviewschoolhouse.blogspot.com/2007/10/schoolhouse-gingerbread-with-chocolate.html" target="_blank">Gingerbread</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/354786/chocolate-panforte" target="_blank">Chocolate Panforte</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Walked for 2 miles with 11yo daughter</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">Found 11yo son's long-lost Trail Life handbook</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">Listened to 13yo daughter teach 15yo son how to sew stockings, and admired five fresh-off-the-sewing-machine stockings made from dress shirts their father no longer wanted</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">Washed kitchen blinds</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: georgia, times new roman, serif; font-size: large;">Because the reality is, even on these festive preparation days, people still have to eat their regular meals and wash their regular clothes. The baby still needs to nurse, and the next baby up still needs attention and ticklings and naptime.</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So my house is only marginally cleaner than it was this morning; and while it certainly smells better, that smell reminds me of the tidying the kitchen still needs. There are crafting bits and pieces here and there and everywhere, and there's dog hair and random books and random pieces of clothing.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But now the children are in bed, and they were all fed today (three cheers for frozen food!!!), they were all bathed today (three cheers for Saturday night!!!), and they are all present and accounted for.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And Papa is home, the dog is snoring on the couch, and the kitty on the front porch has her little heated house plugged in.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So all is right with my world!</span></div>
<div>
</div>
Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-55253601520479930362016-12-03T10:28:00.000-05:002016-12-03T20:53:11.003-05:00Doings<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Papa is away today, gone to the semi-annual presbytery meeting. He left before anyone was out of bed, so we decided to get busy while he's away. The December meeting is our yearly chance to ready the house for the holidays and the coming crafting (already begun) and neaten things a bit for Mama's sanity. I've read my usual <a href="http://pleasantviewschoolhouse.blogspot.com/search/label/Cleaning" target="_blank">motivational posts</a>, and we're geared up and ready!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><u><br /></u></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><u>Today's List</u>:</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean boys' room</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean girls' room</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean Eve's room (storage room)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean master bedroom</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Clean bathrooms</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Straighten downstairs</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Straighten outside</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There. I do believe that covers the whole house.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There's also the decorating...simple and homemade. Pinecones lightly (LIGHTLY, CHILDREN!) dipped in white paint for garlands for the windows. Mixed nuts in bowls. Snowflakes and Swedish stars here and there.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And there's the kitchen work...</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">readying the dough for</span></div>
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Cinnamon rolls for Sunday</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/swiss-sandwich-cookies-spitzbuben-104427" target="_blank">Swiss Sandwich Cookies</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/342387/chocolate-espresso-snowcaps" target="_blank">Chocolate Espresso Snowcaps</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/spritz_cookies/" target="_blank">Spritz Cookies</a></span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">BUT! To keep us focused and the house smelling less like lemon cleaner and more like Christmas, we will be employing the oven timer as our taskmaster. When the timer rings, we move on to the next room.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">AND...when the timer rings, we take one of the following out of the oven:</span></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://pleasantviewschoolhouse.blogspot.com/2007/10/schoolhouse-gingerbread-with-chocolate.html" target="_blank">Gingerbread</a> (only, we don't bother to melt the chocolate chips; just toss them in)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/354786/chocolate-panforte" target="_blank">Chocolate Panforte</a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At least, that's the plan. I will be busy nursing and delegating and choosing the Christmas music. I've got a great team, and we can do it!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUT3B3j6xY1j_AUHUrIaRyRDqqwZDUt6oC-BCUJNuwyBTYWVwYSNkRWAKRJhzfszNozC7to2KolTsqtbFmnk9ahWddTdpUvWjVIrCnNj8ZT9BsD_8_5QxPEFnu3dfoHJI8u9pySGjY5jAC/s1600/1128162136b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUT3B3j6xY1j_AUHUrIaRyRDqqwZDUt6oC-BCUJNuwyBTYWVwYSNkRWAKRJhzfszNozC7to2KolTsqtbFmnk9ahWddTdpUvWjVIrCnNj8ZT9BsD_8_5QxPEFnu3dfoHJI8u9pySGjY5jAC/s640/1128162136b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Brothers who lost teeth late the same night. Hmmm. Gideon (6) and Jon-Jon (8).</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
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<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-89414495083650446482016-11-16T16:25:00.000-05:002016-11-16T16:25:08.844-05:00It's a girl!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuddpiVPjfiMEziSvJy-o0KIDSdCaEPigeKbZ6ylJwPl04H-vB43cWx3MWHShlamKfshbCkdsNx4zCDnWiqhgftR2mqp1o5FcjckXJL9ne4YlLSms0PUB_lUYLxxQZrRt4vFvh368LRoE/s1600/River+Jordan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuddpiVPjfiMEziSvJy-o0KIDSdCaEPigeKbZ6ylJwPl04H-vB43cWx3MWHShlamKfshbCkdsNx4zCDnWiqhgftR2mqp1o5FcjckXJL9ne4YlLSms0PUB_lUYLxxQZrRt4vFvh368LRoE/s640/River+Jordan.jpg" width="354" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">River Jordan Allison</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">October 29, 2016 @ 1:40 AM</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">9 lbs., 20.5" long</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Her name came about because we have this "thing" where our kids all have Old Testament names that (sort of) rhyme with our last name (Allison). And if it doesn't rhyme, we gave them at least one middle name that does.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So we had</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Benjamin</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Lily Ann</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Abraham</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Miriam</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Eden Quinn</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Jonathan</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Gideon</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Salem</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ada Gwen</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Zebulun</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Eve Ellen</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">...</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">and we were STUCK. Ethan had mentioned "Jordan" for a couple of children now, but I just wasn't crazy about that name...UNTIL we were at a Mexican restaurant for a lunch date, and he said, "What about Jordan River Allison?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And I said, "That is stupid, and I'm not doing that."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He said, "Then what about River Jordan?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I laughed and said, "You would never name your daughter 'River'."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ethan challenged me: "<i>I</i> would, but I know <i>YOU </i>wouldn't."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And we didn't say any more about names.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Until she was born, and the nurse asked her name; and Ethan looked at me and said, "Yes, what is her name?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And I said, "River Jordan Allison."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And we both kind of amazed ourselves that her name came about because we were both calling each other's bluff.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But now I can't imagine her being anything other than River (well, or "Raisin," which is what my brain wants to call her but that really is stupid...).</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbBwZzGfTt7BFrv_g4h-qPZ4Ud2MQS0_rF5Ug6FZBHZEvAlPp4k3k9IRkKoJ3-LEDasAcVBFpHZuM6GBQCifDBVUOmJ9JaDQ9Tpqbb0cvZerv7EFpaQLqgyDA2evBJ5Z6_F07dx2pJnZ6/s1600/DSCN1017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbBwZzGfTt7BFrv_g4h-qPZ4Ud2MQS0_rF5Ug6FZBHZEvAlPp4k3k9IRkKoJ3-LEDasAcVBFpHZuM6GBQCifDBVUOmJ9JaDQ9Tpqbb0cvZerv7EFpaQLqgyDA2evBJ5Z6_F07dx2pJnZ6/s640/DSCN1017.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Of course, if you ask the 3-yr. old (Zebby), her name is "Shiver."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She was technically a late-term preemie, being born at 36 weeks and some days. This was hard to believe, since she was almost the size of most of our others at birth and looked like a full-term newborn. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But she proved it by having to lie under the oxygen hood for her first day of life</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">and being discharged with strict orders to see our pediatrician the next day, where they sent us home with a horrific contraption called a bilibed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Every day for the entire first week after we came home from the hospital, we had to go back to the hospital to have her bilirubin checked with a nasty heel prick; and then we trekked to the pediatrician's office an hour later, to have the results given to us with instructions on how to proceed further.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was a long first week with little sleep.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDPzOufhAVLtwiej_D3hE67Yj0AAszCeORVzW5M_Qhk6Ql68RCBrpCHN0wxlriZ_BmctGhW3a1cyGBpZkEjqvQB82RQiKh8vxgH029zQm2iLWTU4d2Lh6ZJrKuyjWR2-FtRJjmfqfWeqa-/s1600/1103162247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDPzOufhAVLtwiej_D3hE67Yj0AAszCeORVzW5M_Qhk6Ql68RCBrpCHN0wxlriZ_BmctGhW3a1cyGBpZkEjqvQB82RQiKh8vxgH029zQm2iLWTU4d2Lh6ZJrKuyjWR2-FtRJjmfqfWeqa-/s640/1103162247.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But...hurray!!!....all of that is over now. Now we can concentrate on other things, like making sure we are nursing nonstop and being held nonstop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This child does not like to be alone.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHr_Y-wRllaUimr6o8Z_0DOSUJ1YrzHeMLFAcqG3BBozbNGRrnHQeCfsQn1z2YVioi-AxvQh6Bjl4cTHRrrOiIeYH-9-meTn51awFANUPowrsKhqcEYbxHJqcTkUtMcuURCp5mpM1Ud2z/s1600/DSCN1015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHr_Y-wRllaUimr6o8Z_0DOSUJ1YrzHeMLFAcqG3BBozbNGRrnHQeCfsQn1z2YVioi-AxvQh6Bjl4cTHRrrOiIeYH-9-meTn51awFANUPowrsKhqcEYbxHJqcTkUtMcuURCp5mpM1Ud2z/s640/DSCN1015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Which, in this family, is probably a good thing, after all.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZo-EwePWlIorK_Fdt-1s6OLR7W4PT5y2XT6IEcYmJCQQo6l-2LB1M047wR2yrht7fbAHYMNOTiu-W0lbULRUQpXq4GRai0toIEPM8wXioKGHPkcCkSBlcpAiaQSBflnsMAZN8YxTlKar/s1600/DSCN1037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZo-EwePWlIorK_Fdt-1s6OLR7W4PT5y2XT6IEcYmJCQQo6l-2LB1M047wR2yrht7fbAHYMNOTiu-W0lbULRUQpXq4GRai0toIEPM8wXioKGHPkcCkSBlcpAiaQSBflnsMAZN8YxTlKar/s640/DSCN1037.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We're very much in love with her and cannot stop kissing those cheeks. She belongs here.</span><br />
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<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-70978668780972288532016-07-28T14:55:00.000-04:002016-07-28T15:48:28.841-04:00Grandma-Grandma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Last month, Grandma-Grandma came to visit.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbStcMNNtmWrVYtThZHDyjAyHKuNlbBDPlALyaZ0EIYnq9lUZHL3qPfUsM7n-rhWVLSogjL5Oo_yQydxKu_0Kga5wbgGstupv_bObtMGb5J5XrCJcRmg1772YQ9kv0WG2cvP-rlC7x4Hnq/s1600/DSCN0623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbStcMNNtmWrVYtThZHDyjAyHKuNlbBDPlALyaZ0EIYnq9lUZHL3qPfUsM7n-rhWVLSogjL5Oo_yQydxKu_0Kga5wbgGstupv_bObtMGb5J5XrCJcRmg1772YQ9kv0WG2cvP-rlC7x4Hnq/s640/DSCN0623.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She's my husband's father's mother. And in true Allison tradition, everyone calls her "Grandma-Grandma," because isn't that what everyone calls their great-grandmother?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis44odRucuYvHtIt1DPUBkjPMrxno9swu210SNMdPa64rgztvxoyeJOThW4eWZmDe_jJvQR5fQ3X-eAx2yRXPYSgyQKkCeMuZYKFDjMLNOjbgnuu9ecQ32rHpdXau8s_7wue3JLtL5JeI7/s1600/DSCN0632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis44odRucuYvHtIt1DPUBkjPMrxno9swu210SNMdPa64rgztvxoyeJOThW4eWZmDe_jJvQR5fQ3X-eAx2yRXPYSgyQKkCeMuZYKFDjMLNOjbgnuu9ecQ32rHpdXau8s_7wue3JLtL5JeI7/s640/DSCN0632.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The children with Grandma-Grandma, and also Grandma</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Everyone here does.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGOF-_9x6jSGLfcvkc2n1wiznqVyqfsf60Il7L6CLvaoWGdqmrLv_Pb1nzcmVbWMgyL2zoI5iVs1-R6apvXWZ-PUacxfYS8RVMWapVlCw4ePj31glnQnmiw3pZ2G-r-D24KlzbC_7sFJW/s1600/DSCN0646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguGOF-_9x6jSGLfcvkc2n1wiznqVyqfsf60Il7L6CLvaoWGdqmrLv_Pb1nzcmVbWMgyL2zoI5iVs1-R6apvXWZ-PUacxfYS8RVMWapVlCw4ePj31glnQnmiw3pZ2G-r-D24KlzbC_7sFJW/s640/DSCN0646.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She's a spunky, cute little thing. She has this infectious love of history and family connections and can make you laugh in spite of yourself when she says the most unexpected things.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7FEK67zaxxke2gSuRQhZdLkmUeI3k0JUUvanJfvXqLiKaU2HKyKZsiEQPmKeQq_572K2gbUAqklNUoNpeK6UNjXCRHjgIFeIOS9pcU3TBLnZ2InyhPhvkWbgOIhHWzY50l7o3osznyyE/s1600/DSCN0695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7FEK67zaxxke2gSuRQhZdLkmUeI3k0JUUvanJfvXqLiKaU2HKyKZsiEQPmKeQq_572K2gbUAqklNUoNpeK6UNjXCRHjgIFeIOS9pcU3TBLnZ2InyhPhvkWbgOIhHWzY50l7o3osznyyE/s640/DSCN0695.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Grandma-Grandma and Ethan, in Grandma's house</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">She's also an incurable flirt. When Grandma (Marlys) and I went with Grandma-Grandma to the <a href="http://depotgrille.com/staunton/" target="_blank">Depot Grille</a>, she flirted </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">nonstop</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">with our in-his-20's waiter, telling him she was going to pack him up in her carry-on and take him back to Oregon. Marlys and I played with our food and smiled apologetically.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKmXns6csLdVbP-zvtBykyGGtNjX9bU8rKw9FXT6fwURnCINH0mdSc6DZaNMksXYuF_2Lw9C58_ftswSdbhqcDDLsVYMW54ruYvCNVUkVUJyxbOgwKLK9YLufk64mnU6HokhzMw1k8b5sS/s1600/DSCN0585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKmXns6csLdVbP-zvtBykyGGtNjX9bU8rKw9FXT6fwURnCINH0mdSc6DZaNMksXYuF_2Lw9C58_ftswSdbhqcDDLsVYMW54ruYvCNVUkVUJyxbOgwKLK9YLufk64mnU6HokhzMw1k8b5sS/s640/DSCN0585.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The waiter brought Grandma-Grandma a complimentary huge dessert and three forks and told her, "I like you. I really like you!"</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEkQ1KTQJl75MQCeQ_AB-RVF8-ZLQFgMe_I6mqgiaele6xIiqNXm-JhxLfRXptZHZ4ieA_nXctKywuzwMK8AnW2kJPeMM7qcyrJY3u0e4S6ZKSxyqlNQiyaVCrHYsm9qVtWdyA4MeqKIIy/s1600/DSCN0697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEkQ1KTQJl75MQCeQ_AB-RVF8-ZLQFgMe_I6mqgiaele6xIiqNXm-JhxLfRXptZHZ4ieA_nXctKywuzwMK8AnW2kJPeMM7qcyrJY3u0e4S6ZKSxyqlNQiyaVCrHYsm9qVtWdyA4MeqKIIy/s640/DSCN0697.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Grandma-Grandma and Ben, at Grandma's house</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But of course! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I don't know anybody who doesn't.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU89cwjdDMRPMRgZq_ShHMq0ML9Rdqc1PRcyIiJRpVdnKDcZVltEJ_FdHqAoHXU7s38sz5MI8mlAcbH1-jiizUr39_MD2C8P6uEANVnKCjJOdjuXmZFAMxIVzxx8r8RskiBOCtywieOO5B/s1600/0614161221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU89cwjdDMRPMRgZq_ShHMq0ML9Rdqc1PRcyIiJRpVdnKDcZVltEJ_FdHqAoHXU7s38sz5MI8mlAcbH1-jiizUr39_MD2C8P6uEANVnKCjJOdjuXmZFAMxIVzxx8r8RskiBOCtywieOO5B/s640/0614161221.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We all love you, Grandma-Grandma. Come back soon, and bring your stories.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And happiest of birthdays to you! We're so glad you were born.</span><br />
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What we did:<br />
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<a href="http://www.whiteoaklavender.com/Home.aspx" target="_blank">White Oak Lavender Farm</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.frontiermuseum.org/" target="_blank">Frontier Culture Museum</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.stauntondowntown.org/" target="_blank">Downtown Staunton</a></div>
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Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-4600675983592257942016-07-27T20:29:00.000-04:002016-07-27T20:29:38.785-04:00A Rhythm<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Planning is not for the faint of heart. And usually, it's not for me, either. But as we contemplated the coming school year with eleven children needing to be fed and laundered, a twelfth child joining them, a teen entering the high school years, and various and sundry chores and sicknesses and outside duties making their siren calls...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">it became abundantly clear that some sort of schedule/routine/rhythm/PLAN is in order.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">That sounds so neat, so structured.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm not sure whether I had truly grasped the work and disorder and chaos involved in creating a routine for this tribe of kids. It's a mess! First there is the school planning -- who will do what. Then there is the logistics planning -- what will be done where and when. And then there are the 3yo and the 1yo and the coming newborn, who are the living, breathing, crying wrenches in the works.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It's enough to throw one into a panic, or at least an extended nap.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But then I re-read this:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">When planning routines, priority must be given to the most important things. The person matters (be it child, husband/wife, or friend). We’ll need time to talk, read, relax, and work together. Our relationship with God matters. Where is the time to be found for that? I am a part of this creation. Where will I find time to get out and enjoy nature? There is too much work to be done, and I am finite. I need to accept that reality, and plan the time and priorities carefully.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">~ Susan Schaeffer Macauley, <i>For the Children's Sake</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and also this:</span></div>
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<blockquote>
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">We ought to do so much for our children, and are able to do so much for them, that <span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">we begin to think everything rests with us</span> and that we should never intermit for a moment our conscious action on the young minds and hearts about us. Our endeavours <span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">become fussy</span> and restless. We are <span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">too much with our children</span>, ‘late and soon.’ We try to dominate them too much, even when we fail to govern, and we are unable to perceive that <span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">wise and purposeful letting alone is the best part of education</span>.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="border: 0px; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">~ Charlotte Mason, <i>School Education</i></span></h4>
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<span style="border: 0px; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">and then, also, this:</span></h4>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If mothers could learn to do for themselves what they do for their children when these are overdone, we should have happier households. Let the mother go out to play! If she would only have courage to let everything go when life becomes too tense, and just take a day, or half a day, out in the fields, or with a favourite book, or in a picture gallery looking long and well at just two or three pictures, or in bed,</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><em style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">without the children</em><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">, life would go on far more happily </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">for both children and parents. The mother would be able to hold herself in 'wise passiveness,' and would not fret her children by continual interference, even of hand or eye––she would let them be.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;"><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span>~ Charlotte Mason, <i style="text-align: center;">School Education</i></span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">and my morning readings, which this week have been in Ecclesiastes, where Solomon again and again urges that the hand of God gives pleasure in your toil.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And that got me to thinking.</span><br />
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I need to schedule Rest/Outside Time. I really, really need to view the REST and the OUTDOORS as necessary components of our day. Seriously. Our health and well-being demand it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I need to be so careful about our margins. If I do not give myself margins throughout the day, I will drive myself and everyone else crazy. Margins, I think, are what will make a schedule/routine doable for me. Block scheduling is one thing that will greatly help *me* with this, as the time it takes to get stuff out/set up/etc. is minimized due to having to do it only 2-3x a week (or so) instead of every day.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If I cannot figure out workable margins, then I have too much going on. I will have to scale back. Too much of a good thing is still too much and ruins the good thing. So if meals are taking me too long, I will have to figure out how to simplify them even further. If history is taking too long, I will have to figure out the priorities (for me, the living book portion) and cut out the rest.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Especially for my youngers, there is no real need to get history done in one year or all the literature done in one year, etc. I may try doing a timed lesson with them instead of trying to get through such-and-such material, especially as I have varying ages and can never predict what questions will arise/what explaining will need to happen.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The goal of this year for me is to help my children grow in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and to help them glorify God and enjoy Him forever. If my attitude is a harried, frustrated one; if I cannot speak with kindness and wisdom on my tongue; if I have no time to seek the Lord first in my day...then I am in error and must adjust the routine accordingly.</span></li>
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<i style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And then, just like that...I can breathe again. The daily rhythms are still being made, the simplified menus are being configured, the checklists and reminders are finding their places. But included in them is a sense of peace, not of urgency and fretfulness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There is a place for Rest.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And that is sweet.</span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-43294951912330866872016-07-26T15:57:00.000-04:002016-07-26T15:57:25.099-04:00Rock-a-Bye Baby<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">(There is a video embedded in this post. Email subscribers may need to <a href="http://eightbawl.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">click over</a>.)</span></div>
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<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-65205805152152880002016-07-25T21:53:00.000-04:002016-07-25T21:53:14.670-04:00I-Just-Want-to-Nap-All-Day Week<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Today marked the official start to I-Just-Want-to-Nap-All-Day Week. As in, I said to Ethan, "I just want to nap all day."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And he said, "Well, yes. This is I-Just-Want-to-Nap-All-Day Week."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Some people call it the week of Vacation Bible School.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We call it like it is.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It's not even like I'm doing anything for VBS. I'm not. I was going to, and then along about April (hello, first trimester) I thought, "What in the world am I thinking? I can't handle basic life, let alone devoting an entire week of mornings to being out of the house and chipper among children. I will be miserable, and everyone around me will be miserable."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">So I backed out of helping. I would feel bad about that, except I just can't muster the energy. Besides, Ben (14) offered to teach the preschoolers, and everyone knows a 6'4"(?) 14-year old boy way beats his 5'9" 30-mumble-year old mother. Especially when said 30+ person is mother to two of said preschoolers.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwzLqTwnHD2SMpnR_L-gXhU3OapWnhmEnGKHVAHI6kzJwckwPFNEEMgYhTXL8EBnKT5lik7Ryae6_WtElPmLtnz5KLyLn9vuKc_E7lQnUvpxJDlNHi8mFCEpCq8C2rj9mOateMwAuhXcVl/s1600/DSCN0629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwzLqTwnHD2SMpnR_L-gXhU3OapWnhmEnGKHVAHI6kzJwckwPFNEEMgYhTXL8EBnKT5lik7Ryae6_WtElPmLtnz5KLyLn9vuKc_E7lQnUvpxJDlNHi8mFCEpCq8C2rj9mOateMwAuhXcVl/s640/DSCN0629.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Zebby (3) and Ben (14)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">So, see? I'm not even doing anything. My job is to make sure the laundry gets done and meals are plentiful (by the way, thanks for dinner tonight, Sweetie).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The mornings start early, with nervous older children who double- and triple-check to make sure they have everything they need and excited younger children who "cannot WAIT for GPS/UPS/BBS/Whatever-it's-called!" Karen picks up the oldest four at 8:15AM so they can do whatever they need to do as teacher/aides, we make sure the next six down are there by 9:00AM as participants, and then the 13mo gets to spend the morning with Mama. (Doesn't that sound cozy? "The baby gets to spend the morning with her mother." Perhaps I should remind you that this child is used to having at least TEN people to bossily fuss at and demand attention and applause from, and now this child must be content with just her mother. These are trying times.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">At noon, the six partipants get picked up, Karen drops the oldest four off a little after that; and we eat and hear about the day's adventures and misadventures and nap and pretty much lie around the rest of the day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">It's just exhausting.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXky9SYk82r_u9qpiKZjl2b7bQq2R29ch_5nRwVIiMicGkdAfbGlbs3Jpe6HDx_qgwDzGYLnlWsr4WNKInqmTks54d46Z318R7FCWRELSVyfmbJTG3uvL_ZYVjgoN0Y7aiXGp4eXIBpUn-/s1600/0604161316a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXky9SYk82r_u9qpiKZjl2b7bQq2R29ch_5nRwVIiMicGkdAfbGlbs3Jpe6HDx_qgwDzGYLnlWsr4WNKInqmTks54d46Z318R7FCWRELSVyfmbJTG3uvL_ZYVjgoN0Y7aiXGp4eXIBpUn-/s640/0604161316a.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Miriam and Abraham (11). She's doing Nursery Work this week and plays a hawk in the skit; he is the Recreation Assistant and plays Terry the Turtle.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJtxDEk33E57tc2qg6yTuOr-2T37lFl1Y1J9229z4pkvL2qF2BJcoAfPyAGkQFJa8KQXFTQOSTgzqvV2pGQWhcXquZDlsd2Qw0xl98f4dvmLaK3dVbwoaxrqHQAZwbZdeLH5qpzLw_8CS6/s1600/DSCN0793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJtxDEk33E57tc2qg6yTuOr-2T37lFl1Y1J9229z4pkvL2qF2BJcoAfPyAGkQFJa8KQXFTQOSTgzqvV2pGQWhcXquZDlsd2Qw0xl98f4dvmLaK3dVbwoaxrqHQAZwbZdeLH5qpzLw_8CS6/s640/DSCN0793.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eve (13 mos.) with Lily (12). Lily is helping with one of the classes and plays Brittany Butterfly in the skit; Eve is an absolute pudge who must be squeezed all of the time and is a terror if you are far away from her sheepskin-lined bed.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We're only one day in, and when we picked up Ben and Abe from their Trail Life meeting at 8:20 tonight, Ben said, "I'm ready for bed."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Me, too. I'm getting tireder just thinking about all I am not doing this week. Maybe tomorrow I can catch at least a couple of naps.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5TX-qPEdIG3NYlT-ur39SfO2JH1et6plYwmi6CxQpFfimVb4vskHHmaWSBxfoEn-GijIGUvFhpHti3p82rWHKAaCMUeMRTvfObW3a3KQr1APEd7s_RIuN4D-jrjw6nOE4wGAO2Z4whzl/s1600/0624162001a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5TX-qPEdIG3NYlT-ur39SfO2JH1et6plYwmi6CxQpFfimVb4vskHHmaWSBxfoEn-GijIGUvFhpHti3p82rWHKAaCMUeMRTvfObW3a3KQr1APEd7s_RIuN4D-jrjw6nOE4wGAO2Z4whzl/s640/0624162001a.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">These are chickens. I don't know their names. Chickens are dumb; and no, they can't come in, even if it's raining. Go away, chickens.</span></td></tr>
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Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-71526673071433505962016-07-22T19:45:00.000-04:002016-07-22T19:45:42.951-04:00Six<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "bookman old style", "palatino linotype", "book antiqua", palatino, "trebuchet ms", helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, "avante garde", "century gothic", "comic sans ms", times, "times new roman", serif;"><i>Six is... </i></span><i><span style="font-family: georgia, "bookman old style", "palatino linotype", "book antiqua", palatino, "trebuchet ms", helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, "avante garde", "century gothic", "comic sans ms", times, "times new roman", serif;">when some real scary things start to happen to your body, it's around then that your teeth start coming a-loose in your mouth.... </span><span style="font-family: georgia, "bookman old style", "palatino linotype", "book antiqua", palatino, "trebuchet ms", helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, "avante garde", "century gothic", "comic sans ms", times, "times new roman", serif;">At first you think it's kind of funny, but the tooth keeps getting looser and looser and one day, in the middle of pushing the tooth back and forth and squinching your eyes shut, you pull it clean out.... </span><span style="font-family: georgia, "bookman old style", "palatino linotype", "book antiqua", palatino, "trebuchet ms", helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, "avante garde", "century gothic", "comic sans ms", times, "times new roman", serif;">You tell some adult about what's happening but all they do is say it's normal. You can't be too sure, though, 'cause it shakes you up a whole lot more than grown folks think it does when perfectly good parts of your body commence to loosening up and falling off of you.</span></i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Unless you're as stupid as a lamppost you've got to wonder what's coming off next, your arm? Your leg? Your neck? Every morning when you wake up it seems a lot of your parts aren't stuck on as good as they used to be.</i></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>~Christopher Paul Curtis, </i>Bud, Not Buddy<i style="font-size: x-large;"> </i></span></blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Salem, who is (surprise!) Six. And here is proof.</span></td></tr>
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<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-60682158125342995342016-07-21T17:54:00.001-04:002016-07-21T17:54:53.958-04:00Knowledge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Ada (4): In Sunday School, we talked about when the snake told Eve and Satan to eat the apple and then they did and then Eve was bad so she told Adam to eat the apple and then he did and he was bad and so Adam and Eve and Satan hided in the garden but God knew where they hided. Oh, and also, Mama, the picture showed a little part of their bottoms. But just a little part. It was OK.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Me: Well, you're <i>almost</i> right. The serpent told Eve to eat the fruit, and she and Adam did and then they hid from the Lord.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ada: Which is <i>exactly </i>what I just said.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPA869AaYFYWie5qu-o5cTDJ2Eu650Z4B-HVUAikOnziT0yprtiCHlPzKAbg5nj2Sj1ODQrc_Uk1bjY7HULqHI9DcwUlNMdasvNuFXJPUfdGI98yC-atxkQflKoGySTH5k2huhnmI2vK-J/s1600/DSCN0826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="477" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPA869AaYFYWie5qu-o5cTDJ2Eu650Z4B-HVUAikOnziT0yprtiCHlPzKAbg5nj2Sj1ODQrc_Uk1bjY7HULqHI9DcwUlNMdasvNuFXJPUfdGI98yC-atxkQflKoGySTH5k2huhnmI2vK-J/s640/DSCN0826.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ada: Papa, I just feel like I understand <i>everything.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ethan: You are so much like your mother.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AHzz5AYUIFRNNz6hwP73Wx0jbktTgIJ-FYqtJWf-S0Nxqu7EdWsHQNXJqx_yrx2a7Ftq_7CoeDGyewhY1aGsbnnfg_H4HuGgLrO9lwN6-N__Fj4LKr6FB8PgLiqvwDiYXmHURc2oz24Y/s1600/DSCN0575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="477" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AHzz5AYUIFRNNz6hwP73Wx0jbktTgIJ-FYqtJWf-S0Nxqu7EdWsHQNXJqx_yrx2a7Ftq_7CoeDGyewhY1aGsbnnfg_H4HuGgLrO9lwN6-N__Fj4LKr6FB8PgLiqvwDiYXmHURc2oz24Y/s640/DSCN0575.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-10017854198724913822016-07-20T15:32:00.000-04:002016-07-20T15:32:20.142-04:00Solace<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Two weeks ago, after having a 21-week ultrasound and meeting with the person known hereabouts (that is, in my mind) as Midwife Plague, whom I usually avoid like ... you know ... a Level 2 ultrasound was scheduled for the Fetal Care Unit at the Children's Hospital in Charlottesville.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">At that meeting two weeks ago, Midwife Plague, ever enjoying her role as Bearer of Potentially Bad and Disruptive News, put on her best "I've never had children and this is why" face and proceeded to tell me that</span><br />
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The baby has a cyst on its brain.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There is excess amniotic fluid (polyhydramnios), and</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You are old and have lots of children. What else did you expect?</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She suspected that a) it could be nothing, but b) it was more likely something, esp. because of the aforementioned no. 3. The "something" she suspected and I should ready myself for was one of the Trisomies -- Trisomy 21 (Down syndrome), Trisomy 18 (Edwards' syndrome), or Trisomy 13 (Patau syndrome).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I agreed to scheduling a Level 2 ultrasound and perhaps meeting with a genetic counselor and then drove straight to Ethan's office, sat down, and cried, saying, "There's nothing wrong. Ignore my crying. There's probably nothing wrong." I told him I was NOT going to google anything and then went home, only to have him call and say, "Maybe you should google it...I've looked it up and I think she's wrong." He found more and more evidence to put his mind at ease while I found more and more to put me on edge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The next two weeks were spent praying, and reading my Bible, and being thoroughly irritated with Midwife Plague's bedside manner (which had also thoroughly irritated me when she was the attendant at Zeb's birth), and praying some more, and pleading, "Make me a willing servant, and Thy will be done, but please be merciful in Thy will," and not sleeping very well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And then yesterday came. Ethan and I drove to the hospital, sat in the darkened ultrasound room, and tried to decipher the ultrasound pictures and the sonographer's poker face.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When the doctor came in and said, "Your baby looks perfect. I see absolutely nothing concerning in any way. Your fluid levels are normal; there is no cyst...and if I did see a cyst, it wouldn't concern me because as our ultrasound equipment gets better and better, we are seeing more and more of them...everything looks wonderful..." well, there just are not words for the relief and shock that overwhelmed me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">All that was left to do was celebrate. We took a 15-minute tromp through Whole Foods (because 15 minutes of pretentious cloth bag-carting yuppies and <a href="http://eightbawl.blogspot.com/2016/07/quiet-in-library-please.html" target="_blank">mothers who will. not. stop. talking</a>. to their disobedient long-haired little boys is about all I can handle, plus, there's that whole "we love our crystal stick deodorants and raw garlic salves and should we pick up more patchouli?" smell that overwhelms the pregnant nose). Then we pranced through World Market, picking up a whopping two items: Red Curry potato chips and some dark chocolate with mango and coconut. We tried out Karen's wonderful suggestion for a restaurant: the Mediterranean <a href="http://www.mezeh.com/" target="_blank">Mezeh</a> (and to my sister, Rebecca: GO THERE!). I had the lamb and Ethan had the steak and we could probably eat there every night of our lives and still want more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Then there was Williams-Sonoma, because everyone needs a good laugh in an air-conditioned pristinely white "I'll take the copper KitchenAid and you take the strawberry huller-and-slicer" environment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And finally, a coffee and a pastry to nourish us on our way home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My belly was (more than) full, my heart was so light, and in my purse were eleven copies of the profile of another little Allison Stinker, because the doctor said every sibling should get his/her own picture.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJd9yCPexvaAvUsuRifJz4eJKJFDcYvLdwXkJYq_s-mTn32oFvyTP8SYtiWJdYQ9gGnbhziT5-2K5jGdfH4FHSZwaHZ-CKcc1-p4FqX1G7bs7aLY3SGnLqgxzkOCi6gQhD0j4ZXUTUsX3/s1600/ultrasound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJd9yCPexvaAvUsuRifJz4eJKJFDcYvLdwXkJYq_s-mTn32oFvyTP8SYtiWJdYQ9gGnbhziT5-2K5jGdfH4FHSZwaHZ-CKcc1-p4FqX1G7bs7aLY3SGnLqgxzkOCi6gQhD0j4ZXUTUsX3/s640/ultrasound.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I know these things don't look like much. I'm always saying I can never tell whether it's a baby or a pending weather alert. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But this...all eleven copies of this ultrasound picture and all eleven real-life copies asking about dinner...is a reminder to me. He is faithful, and He has been merciful, and this would be true even were the outcome different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I give thanks for that solace.</span></div>
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Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-69494845989156443412016-07-18T21:09:00.000-04:002016-07-18T21:09:22.046-04:00Quiet in the library, please<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Today we took everybody to the library as a reward for finally really cleaning their bedrooms.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I sat just outside the play area with Eve while the other Littles played and the Middles and Olders found books to read (32 in all, plus a movie).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Seated across from me was a mother knitting. Her 18-mo. old was also playing in the play area.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I know his name because she must have said it over a hundred times in the forty minutes that we were there. "Matthew (name changed to protect the ... I don't know ... <i>something</i>), can you get the egg? Get the other part of the egg, Matthew. Matthew, do they want to see your egg? Show the other children your egg, Matthew! No, Matthew! Please, Matthew, let's not go outside the play area. Oh, Matthew. OK. Listen, Matthew. You may play in the play area, or you may sit in one of these chairs here at this table outside the play area. OK, Matthew? Matthew! Matthew! Matthew, please come back here. Let's not run in the library, Matthew! Matthew!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Over and over and over. It will come as no surprise to anyone (excepting, apparently, his mother) that Matthew was quick to do exactly what his mother did not want him to do, almost as if he hadn't heard her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And why not? This is what she had trained him to do. The nonstop talking, the saying of his name over and over and over...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His defense mechanisms kicked in and he tuned her out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was, I will admit, jealous.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Salem, this is a random picture of you, Salem. Do you want to look at the picture, Salem? Salem, why don't you look at the picture? Salem, are you ignoring me, Salem?<br /></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-89422979704586920712016-07-16T20:54:00.000-04:002016-07-16T20:54:30.627-04:00Recovery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ahhh.. Things are eerily quiet right now, considering it's only 8:11 PM and there are eleven children in this house once again.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjI7Kp-8pdAgspPV0ObAk87ZJL61d6V4hAI3_YHykzPBZSbT_VmS9_sWeXMUdxl1PE9nMvhJmS4dFhcOVZ2i8Wd-jY3VXfQNHrgGVgPu8raS93XKoBXjueGyOh8gPcxoHhDNTmfToclrun/s1600/RSCN7005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjI7Kp-8pdAgspPV0ObAk87ZJL61d6V4hAI3_YHykzPBZSbT_VmS9_sWeXMUdxl1PE9nMvhJmS4dFhcOVZ2i8Wd-jY3VXfQNHrgGVgPu8raS93XKoBXjueGyOh8gPcxoHhDNTmfToclrun/s640/RSCN7005.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Lily (12) and Miriam (11) are the two in hats.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The dryer is running, the hot water heater is recovering from a few hard hours of showers and laundry, and tomorrow's potluck meal is simmering in the crock pot.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtriSndiLvf0bzyT5jDQTDEzV6zTapme6Zca4QWdMefrS4kLDQyQwLR2FO8B0E1Yg7uWMTk3n1LmkJM04mylHrl05ocmlAfoEFhUr36K_H3aEmaW2oSjNVCdKQqWS35JG6v9K_MzuRNUev/s1600/DSCN7081+-+Copy+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtriSndiLvf0bzyT5jDQTDEzV6zTapme6Zca4QWdMefrS4kLDQyQwLR2FO8B0E1Yg7uWMTk3n1LmkJM04mylHrl05ocmlAfoEFhUr36K_H3aEmaW2oSjNVCdKQqWS35JG6v9K_MzuRNUev/s640/DSCN7081+-+Copy+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">This year's Lichenville</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My children are lying in bed exhausted, their duffle bags and sleeping bags are lying helter-skelter in the upstairs hallway awaiting a trip to the attic, and somewhere at the very edge of these children's emotional thresholds lie the fresh memories and ruminations of another Science Camp week completed.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBugkpO5imuYgOwXlTur6WXfHwSfXz5LHOwfsiOpH42CHU3PX2wNYRXRkqq6Wl1qkRJZieS1f3HhiSxueV1osR2blB7fcLYPdYqOk1_zLy_9emfk1pwZOBoPjyMsW3NVMKuKLSYn89RMQt/s1600/DSCN7087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBugkpO5imuYgOwXlTur6WXfHwSfXz5LHOwfsiOpH42CHU3PX2wNYRXRkqq6Wl1qkRJZieS1f3HhiSxueV1osR2blB7fcLYPdYqOk1_zLy_9emfk1pwZOBoPjyMsW3NVMKuKLSYn89RMQt/s640/DSCN7087.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Benjamin (14), modeling the latest in camp headgear</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We have heard little about what transpired this past week. Our oldest four were visibly subdued and fragile this afternoon as we traveled home over the three mountains ("It's the top of the first hill...it's the bottom of the first hill...only two more to go...").</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For some, it was the thought of friends that they will not see for another year. For others, it was the thought of friends whose last year was this one, and the question of whether they will ever be seen again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I had to steal Lily's camera after she went to bed to try to get an idea of what went on at this year's camp. (To be fair, it *is* my camera so perhaps it's not stealing, after all. Just borrowing back.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There were numerous pictures of blue-bedecked buddies making crazy faces from tire swings, and lichen and mushrooms and science experiments in various stages of bloom, and a couple of videos of children of varying ages out in the remote countryside having the time of their lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">That made me happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But this, too, made me happy: two pictures of home, taken before she left. Pictures she could look at to remind her of others she loves, of other bosom buddies and roommates and ones with which to laugh and giggle.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Eden (9) and Ada (4). If you took out the carpet, this could be a camp picture!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphFZchZme0K71hoCnQ8orU5W0DS1SSxY-7f6UO5ZOG7KpDciiWGsfY-27rbhkePyHJwHbZx49HKDA0ptiSBLf2UuhbTr35XnPEZakEnO1W16wownnDH0n7x3jPXD2dx0KGclOsW5iViQr/s1600/DSCN7147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphFZchZme0K71hoCnQ8orU5W0DS1SSxY-7f6UO5ZOG7KpDciiWGsfY-27rbhkePyHJwHbZx49HKDA0ptiSBLf2UuhbTr35XnPEZakEnO1W16wownnDH0n7x3jPXD2dx0KGclOsW5iViQr/s640/DSCN7147.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">A reminder that action awaits them here at home, too.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;">So we'll give them time to rest up and find their emotional footings, and we'll air their sleeping bags and sneakers and put away their toothbrushes, and then, I'm quite sure, we'll hear all about the nicknames and the food and the songs and the silliness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But for tonight, I hear only the dryer.</span></div>
Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2913155610329404984.post-17612014231578372522016-07-15T19:14:00.003-04:002016-07-15T19:14:54.268-04:00Art, and Salad Tongs.<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><i>Food should be chosen to give pleasure, and to cheer up people after a hard day's work, to comfort them when they feel down for some reason, to amuse them when things seem a bit dull, or to open up conversation when they feel silent and uncommunicative...</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><i>Food should be served with real care as to the colour and texture on the plates, as well as with imaginative taste. This is where artistic talent and aesthetic expression and fulfilment come in...</i></span><i> </i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: medium;"><i>Food cannot take care of spiritual, psychological and emotional problems, but the feeling of being loved and cared for, the actual comfort of the beauty and flavour of food, the increase of blood sugar and physical well-being, help one to go on during the next hours better equipped to meet the problems (Edith Schaeffer, "Food," </i>The Hidden Art of Homemaking).</span> </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Miss Dotti makes superb salads.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And Miss Dotti is an artist.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I'm not sure that you would view her art and instantly know she makes superb salads.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But I am quite sure that you would view her salads and instantly know she creates art.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I probably don't need to say this, but being on the receiving end of one of (MANY of!) Miss Dotti's salads is a wonderful thing indeed. Each salad is a feast both for the tongue and for the eyes.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Zebby (3) trying very hard not to pick at the salad</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And it tickles me that every time she brings one, the children "ooh" and "aah" over the different patterns. It is a well-established fact that one of them will say, "You sure can tell Miss Dotti is an artist when you look at her salads." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">They say it every time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And it also tickles me to see which part of the salad will be their "favorite" part this time. Once it was radishes. I thought they were picking them out to discard; they were actually picking them out to eat first! The same child who asks one time to please pass the tomatoes on to the next sibling over will gobble up the tomatoes first thing in one of Miss Dotti's subsequent salads.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">There's just no telling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Miss Dotti is also a magician. She serves her salad on a very shallow glass platter. Upon first glance, I would say that her salad was half the size of one of my (lame, mostly greens, throw-some-dressing-on-there-and-call-it-salad) salads in my big glass bowl.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">BUT. Her shallow plate holds the equivalent of TWO of my huge-glass-bowl salads. And the added bonus is that with every scoop, you get every single layer, all the goodies included.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">They are exquisite masterpieces, every one.</span><br />
<br />Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908096622186204946noreply@blogger.com0