Ten Thousand Words

yellow-rumped warbler

 The days are so warm and welcoming with the sun peering through the trees.  The boys smell like sticky sweat and dirt. D is hosing off the car and singing a banjo song. I'm holding the dog's leash.  Big brother is bouncing his basketball.  little brother is frantically displacing water from his wading pool as the sun makes a line down his bare back.  I move closer to shade him from the beams, and now he plays in my shadow.  The dog laps water from the little pool.

I hum along with D and follow the dripping toddler through the grass with the dog at our knees.  little brother plucks dandelions from the grass. Big brother is off chasing a ball somewhere. I feel the slightest breeze across my face and smell lilac.  I hear mother wren in the magnolia tree.  She is warning us that we are too close.

black & white warbler

Sometimes Big brother is flipping logs to find salamanders.  Sometimes he is half over the edge of the koi pond with a net, focused in on a frog that turns out to be a toad and thank God! because toads shouldn't be in the water. His fingernails are dirty and his glasses are slid halfway down his nose, but he can't push them up because his hands are full of ramps and leaves and something is in his boot.

Sometimes I'm chasing the dog. Did I mention we got a dog? Sadie is her name. She's a mastiff, only a few weeks old. She's gentle and tough and wild and exhausted. She is a contradictory lady, full of energy and then utterly comatose for hours on end.  Her paws are floppy. Her ears are floppy. Her skin is floppy - and it's all so darling.  Sometimes she trips over those paws. Sometimes she tries to eat rocks or pine cones or birdseed.  She likes to chew. She only barks at our fat cat, the Queen. She snores like a chainsaw, and is so dear.  Anyway, sometimes I run in the yard and she runs alongside me and when we stop running, she flops over onto her side and I rub her pink tummy and she lays like that until the sun makes it so warm.

We eat dinner every possible night together at the table. D asks Big brother what his favorite part of the day was. It's almost always extra recess or no homework, but sometimes it's baseball or pizza or a joke someone told him at school. little brother picks at his plate and one of us leaves the table to makes him a meal of simple things that he'll actually eat. He eats, and is covered in whatever it is. Generally, head to toe.

chickadee

D gives little brother his evening bath.  They sing and splash and - no matter where you are in the house - you can hear them squealing.  It's little brother's final surge before going to bed for the night. He waves night-night and likes to lay on his left side.

palm warbler

I make the bed so we can lay under the layers without clumps. D and I lay flat on our backs, allowing the weight of the day to sink deep, deep into the mattress to stay. Cats crawl on our legs. Sadie burrows her muzzle into our pillows, our necks, our sides. The window at the head of our bed shows a darkening sky and treetops swaying themselves to sleep.

red-breasted nuthatch

Big brother kisses us good night. The family tenderly sleeps. Nightly disturbances inevitably occur - a mouse sneaks in, a cat catches it, little brother cries out in his sleep, an ornery owl has something to say in the middle of the night. We do our best to hush the racket and deal with it in the morning.

To be honest, we only have so much emotional and intellectual energy to spend on the world around us.  I would much rather expend it on our own little piece of the world, and so I try my hardest to do just that.  Maybe I am small-minded.  Maybe this is evidence of a narrowness of my views. Maybe there will come a time where I see it as a flaw and will feel compelled to change it.  But right now, I am certain that by not allowing my energy to be diffused by a whole world of events that I am powerless to affect, I have more energy to immerse myself in family. Maybe if more people did this, the world would be better off.

I can't know for sure, but I think it's true.

-S.


-happy birthday. i love you.

Ill With Want

 We apologize for the long hiatus.  Winter was cold and long, but we're done hibernating now.  Thank you for coming back.  A recap on our end of winter, beginning of spring adventures:

first.

When we couldn't stand being in the house anymore, on a mild Sunday in March, we took the kids to the Curious Kid's Museum in St. Joseph, MI.  It was little brother's first trip, but Big brother had gone before and was decidedly too old for most of it. He was an excellent sport for little brothers sake, though, and the family was in complete bliss, just being together and eating junk.  We all needed it.

malted.

On Valentine's Day, D and I drove downstate to see our all-time favorite band ever, The Avett Brothers.  It was the best show I have ever been to, with the most handsome company and peaceful drive. 

brothers.

 Baseball season has started again for Big brother.  So has salamander-hunting, driveway basketball, fishing, drive-in movies season.  He joined the Running Club at school and is currently working on building his endurance.  He has grown so much in the last few months, we can hardly keep him clothed.  He's been pitching more at baseball practice and games and is really doing a great job. He has been doing great in school, all A's and B's - and is almost done with 5th grade ALREADY!

Sometimes we have him watch little brother while we shower or do dishes and he does an amazing job.  I listened as he changed a stinky diaper a few days ago. He asked for a gas mask, but then told little brother "It's ok! Everybody poops!" and when little was too squirmy to get his pants back on, Big made a decision: "alright! It's NO PANTS DAY!" which was pretty awesome. 

rhubarb.

little brother is almost 18 months now!  Can you believe it?  It warms and saddens my heart, but is lovely just the same.  His vocabulary has tripled in the last few months.  He has gotten taller, but stayed a slim 24 pounds.  He went on his first sled, his first fishing trip, had his first haircut, we bought his first toothbrush, and his grandparents got him his first Columbia jacket. He sees deer in the yard and points and says "duhr!".

He puts on our shoes and slides across the floor and tells us "sthoesth! bahbye."  He sings and climbs and laughs. He doesn't like to eat, but his favorite food right now is clementines. If anyone opens the refrigerator, he beelines to the clementines.  He'll take a bite right out of the peel if you let him. little brother loves books, and being outside and sometimes - if you catch him in the right mood - he loves sitting on your lap. He is the happiest human I know.
 

Oh yeah, and he LOVES his binky.  We're working on that. Sometimes he'll have one in his mouth and find another somewhere in the house.  He picks it up and yells "TWO!" and shoves it in his mouth, too.  He is the happiest human I know. Sometimes at random times during the day, he'll say "Happy!" and it's so adorable.

 

risen.

 D and I have been counting our blessings as several family members on both sides have gotten ill over the last few months. As hard as we try to remain optimistic, sometimes it is sad to feel so blessed when those you love are struggling.  We just hope they know we love them dearly, and not a day goes by where we don't pray for them, hurt for them, think of them, and remember every happy time because those are what counts.

summer tanager.

pine siskin.

red-breasted grosbeak.

peace.

pileated woodpecker.

 As you can see, we've had so many birds migrating through.  It's difficult to identify them all, especially the warblers, but I have been keeping a list of all the birds we've seen on the property this year. D and I believe we have even seen Penny! Which makes me far happier than is reasonable.

sunny jack.

 I started our garden seeds a few weeks ago and they are sprouting beautifully in a darling little greenhouse from the boys for an (early) Mother's Day gift.  I can't wait to till the garden - which is something we've been putting off- and get them in the dirt.  I am praying for a successful garden this year.  Last year's garden taught me so very much.

palm warbler.

D led a hike yesterday at Moraine for a local land trust in an effort to make our neighbors more aware of how beautiful and diverse of an area we all live in.  Big brother, little brother, and I tagged along and it was obvious to see why he was chosen to lead the hike.  Aside from being easy on the eyes, he was so knowledgeable and kind and approachable. I was proud watching him explain native plant species to a group of our neighbors, down ravine slopes and through the woods. He is really doing what he loves every day.

bliss.

lilac.

I have been working three days a week for a few months now.  I got a job in an effort to help with bills and to allow the boys more opportunities than they had before.  So far, we've been able to find a hectic balance and it's really helped the family.  Plus, it feels really good to contribute.

Summer is coming and we are hopeful that the pace around here will let up a bit.  D's bosses were gracious enough to allow him the flexibility of taking Friday's off work to be home with the kids.  Add in the two days a week I am off work, and we are only away from them two days per week.  We've asked family to help on those two days and soon we will be able to take little brother out of daycare.  I cannot explain what a relief that is - if only for the summer.

bluebird optimism.

home.

Our married Cardinal couple is expecting!  They built a nest in the shrub right outside of our kitchen window and we keep an eye on it when they flutter over to the other side of the house to hit the bird feeder for a dinner date. I cannot contain my excitement! I'm so happy for them.  They are registered at Wild Birds Unlimited if ya'll would like to purchase a shower gift. haha

home.

I am feeling very optimistic for the upcoming seasons and all the beauty they have to offer. Eating fresh food, growing fresh food, watching the boys grow and learn, and whatever else is in store for us.


-S


"Temporary is my time. ain't nothing on this world that's mine - except the will I have to carry on. Free is not your right to choose, it's answering what's asked of you: to give the love you have until it's gone."

Big Yellow Taxi

After a long two weeks of illnesses, I think our family is all on the road to recovery.  It started with D, up all night all hot and shivery and ugly.  It moved along to Big brother and, almost immediately, little brother.  I was the last to get a touch of it. A round of antibiotics each, and we're in ship shape.  No more missed school or work.  It's amazing how much it drains the whole family when just one member is sick.  It's equally amazing how quickly a can of Lysol runs out.

 The weather here has been frigid.  Highs in the teens, lows in the negatives.  I guess I chose a good set of days to be home ill.  Going out is borderline uncomfortable.  Of course, we have luxuries: heated leather seats in the car and knee-length-down-filled-coats with fleece pockets. They make the cold bearable. Just looking out into the cold makes me feel shivery. I feel blessed to have warm blankets and slippers and cats. Cats always make winter better.

The juncos and titmice don't notice.  I expect them to turn into little birdcicles if they sit too long on a branch.  They never do. They just flitter away, as if it's thirty degrees warmer than it actually is.  It's encouraging for me to get up and dressed when I know there are little flying tufts of feathers eager for the sun and our measly suet feeder every morning.

We went a day and a half without running water recently.  After making several phone calls, D had a man out to fix it and it only took half an hour to repair.  An underground wire that makes the pump in our well work was severed somehow. He replaced the wire and was on his way.

In all honesty, it felt tremendously inconvenient to have no running water for this (short) length of time.  Once it was fixed, I took a hot shower.  While in the shower, I felt ashamed for letting it be such a bothersome thing.  Obviously there are people much worse off.  People who don't even know running water is a thing.  Thinking this way gets mentally exhausting, I know.  Most normal people have a severed well pump wire, get it fixed, and say something like "oh thank God! I was starting to smell!"   While I may say something like that, my mind is swarming with gratitude and guilt - privileged guilt. The worst kind of guilt...but mostly gratitude.

Thank God for running water!

Before we moved to Moraine, in our previous home, moss used to grow on the roof of the garage, between the shingles.  I used to think it was so ugly and awful.  Now I think it was quite beautiful. That's one of the ways Moraine has changed me.  An empty nest dumped on the lawn at the beginning of winter because the leaves that held it in place have fallen would have been an eyesore.  Now, I find it so lovely and symbolic of the only constant, change.  A day without running water would have been a tragedy.  Now, it's a lesson and a reminder - an opportunity for gratitude.

When there was a heavy snow, before Moraine, we worked frantically to make sure we could get out of the driveway and back to work as soon as possible.  Now, we hope for a heavy snow because it will make it easier to see the wildlife. 

wildlife!

I miss my grandma more on Moraine than I ever did before. Maybe that is just a coincidence, but in the quiet, simple evenings, I remember how she used to sleep with the t.v. on, in her big green bed, with a pink rosary hanging off the headboard.  Early in the mornings sometimes, I smell her cigarettes and starched, bleached sheets. Almost every weekend, I make her biscuits and gravy for D and the kids. I think about her the whole time I cook - from start to finish- and I miss her so much sometimes, it hurts.  I don't know what it is about Moraine that makes me ache for her so much.  Maybe the silence, allowing her back in after years of keeping the thoughts out.  Maybe it's the familiarity of a safe haven. Maybe it's the kids, knowing she'll never get to pinch them. She liked Dolly Parton and George Jones and Elvis.  She would open a can of Coke and keep it in the refrigerator and sip it all day.  She made blackeyed peas and cornbread for dinner and they were so warm and perfect every time.  She made me laugh so much.
 

Once, her left turn signal light bulb was out. I was in the car with her when she found out.  We went to Steve's gas station, where they pumped the gas for her.  The attendant told her the bulb was out, but she didn't have the time to get it fixed.  That day, we went from the gas station, to the grocery store, and back to her house making only right turns.  It was the funniest thing you've ever seen.

She always gave us socks for Christmas.  It was silly when I was a kid, but incredibly thoughtful looking back on it with adult eyes.  She had a huge bathtub. It had a cigarette burn in the far right corner.
Grandma smoked like a chimney, even when she was very, very sick - she would smoke whatever you handed her: a straw or an unlit cigarette. 

I'm sure she would get a kick out of Moraine.  Looking down, I'm sure she knows how much she means to me.

 This next week will be calm, but moving onto February will be hectic.  D will be going out of town for a few days, and then he and I are going away for a concert over Valentine's Day (yay!) to see our favorite band.  Winter is cold and warm at the same time.  I'm ready for spring.  Remember the crocuses? 



"Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name"


-S

Flowers In Your Hair

Lately, the homebody in me has been entwined in a tremendous battle with the productive member of society with a job and bills to pay and people to answer to that aren't my dependents.  I have been so drawn to all of the quiet parts of me that usually remain dormant until spring.  The parts of me that want to dig in the dirt, paint the walls, glue googly-eyes on rocks and give them names.  The parts of me that want to peel back all of the fleece sheets from the beds and heavy down coats from the hangers and snow pants off the shelves and replace them with cotton and linen and darling little skirts.

It is because mother nature is confused here in the Midwest that I, too, am feeling a little confused.  Today, the temperature was an average of 50 degrees.  Granted, it was a muddy, overcast, gray kind of 50 degrees - but in January - it's just baffling for me. I'm sure that tomorrow or maybe the day after, Indiana wintertime will return to normal and we'll be greeted with frozen-solid windshields and slippery-cold-clay grounds in the mornings. That is why I had to take full advantage of the interestingly mild day that was today.

D and I got to take a hike together this afternoon and in the silence, listened as a gaggle of geese foraged around the pond. We listened to two playful piney squirrels explore the trees as a pileated woodpecker scavenged through the woods. There was no breeze, no howling children or disruptive sounds.  Even the chainsaw being operated by a faceless neighbor across the pond was a welcome, productive sort of noise that fit in amongst all of the enormous trees. 

I got to take some lovely photos of my darling husband between the trees, in his big green boots and adorable baseball hat.  Holding his warm coffee cup. Flanked by an old oak and a sugar maple. Momentarily at ease and feeling the peace that comes when the cool air hits your face (or beard).

I got to breathe in the air, the smell of the wet earth and leaves mixing just perfectly with the delicate hint of pine if a breeze should move through the trees just so.

I got to hold D's hand as he helped me down an especially slippery hill.

I got to sip on a very strong coffee with some almond milk.

I got to laugh, listen to my husband tell me about his week, about hopes for our future, about how tremendously different our lives are from what they used to be.

I had an opportunity to think about our small, simple life here on Moraine. I wondered: are we making a difference in the world at all outside of our own? I thought about the ripple effect of living. Of how dropping a small stone into a giant pond, the ripples will travel all the way to the edges of the pond if the water is still enough.  In the stillness of the trees, I felt a little like a pebble.

I have come to understand that certain moments like these shape my life by a measure that is not consistent with their brevity and immediate imprint.  These are not big events, the births, the deaths, the unions and separations, which - for all their significance - are the commonplace joys and tragedies of humanity.

Rather, they are the almost imperceptible splashes in the pool of my existence, like when I glance up at D perched at the top of a ravine like a king on the back of some great beast, and I marvel at what it means to be human, to be the species that - for better or worse - has invented all this stuff, this amazing, crazy magical stuff.

I mean, to watch one man who can climb aboard a 2,000 pound piece of machinery at 7:30 in the morning and have a 200 acre plot of land prepared to be burned to the ground safely the next day by 3:30 p.m.? And to know that he is just a gentle man, really, the heart of a kitten and the work ethic of an entire anthill?  It's almost as if I can feel the small pebble dropping through my surface.

It's almost as if I am not just the pool, but also the shore and I can see those little waves rushing toward me.

A brief update before I join my warm-blooded-heat-radiating husband and attention-starved Big brother in bed for a movie:  little brother has had an exceptionally stubborn cough for the last 2 weeks or so, but only at night, and no other symptoms, but he had us so concerned that we took him to a doctor today.  The doctor believed it was simply post-nasal drip and suggested we do a few things at home to keep him comfortable and to give it time.  No antibiotics, which was a welcome change to most doctor visits lately. He is sleeping peacefully in his crib right now and hasn't coughed once since falling asleep.

Big brother played basketball for hours today.  He would take a break, come into the kitchen all flushed-cheeks and chilly fingertips to tell me how happy he was to be outdoors.  He went to a church activity for two hours Friday night and had a really good time.  Being ten is a blast. Just ask me him.

Sometimes our satellite television service provider will surprise us with a free weekend of HBO as a trick to get us to order it, and this is that weekend!  Needless to say, we won't be wearing pants until Monday morning.

 "Just know you're not alone. 'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home."

-S.

A Little Bit Of Everything

It has been an interesting start to the new year. On January 2, 2013, Sweetheart and I were chasing a mouse around the house in the early morning hours. My wife has a very effective technique of capturing mice with a towel. She is very calm and gentle with the mouse and she sets them free outside the house.  Once in a while, our black and white cat will catch a  mouse during the night and bring it to our bed as we sleep.  She then will release the mouse and watch it crawl into the covers with us.  This always makes for an interesting event.

Two days ago, the road at the Moraine was a sheet of ice.  The driveway is long with hills and hollers.  I almost crashed into a ravine and a pond while driving the road.  So when Sweetheart was returning home from work she had to park out by the mailboxes and walk to the house in the dark.  The next morning, she got all bundled up and walked out to the car in 20 degree weather.   She was the first person at her office.  I am proud of my wife.  She is a good pioneer.

Big Brother is enjoying his vacation.  He will be back to school in a few days.  He is excited to go to church tomorrow.  Little Brother is trying to talk more.  He is so smart and so active.  Sweetheart bought bird seed today.  I hope she sees Penny soon.

My family and I always look for Robins in late winter and early spring.  Yesterday I saw about 12 in the back yard.  This will be a year full of adventure and new experiences.

 

D.