tickled

that what started out as just a little photo op….

slowly became very friendly and intimate…

a very ordinary moment turns extraordinary

after all…how often does one get to share something so wonderful…

as butterfly kisses…literally.

stops and starts

i wanted to call this post: a nightbook. stealing the phrase from one of my favorite people. but i didn’t. because it’s not fair to steal other people’s ideas without asking first and since she is on the other side of the ocean that might take too long!

besides, given the nature of these photographs and what i wanted to talk about, stops and starts sounded more appropriate.

life is a  lot like these flowers. beautiful. promising. sweet-smelling. and colorful. and then it fades.

and then you wither. die. and end up laying on top of a piano?

no. really i was going somewhere with this. but i am extremely distracted by a new kitty. and the swooshing sound of pens on paper as the two middles lie on my bed next to me and draw. it really is a delightful sound. not distracting in a bad way.

the fact that my allergies are acting up really badly and i am typing with one eye closed could have something to do with the loss of my poetic train of thought.

i guess what i meant to say is when life fades. and loses color. buy a new one?

nope. not that either.

just buy some new flowers i guess.

i have nothing. as my husband says when he is at a loss for words.

except maybe this….

“she endured. and survived. marginally perhaps, but it is not required of us that we live well.” ~anne cameron

not my words. no.

but i like the idea of living well. 

something good to chew on as we head into a new school year.

a new season of  wonderful dead things which late summer and then fall brings.

a season of stops and starts of all sorts.

picking things up and putting them down again is good for the soul.

always praying for discernment.

for what should be stopped and started.

and for the courage to get back up when you fall down.

liturgically speaking, august began with peter in chains.

and immediately i could relate to those chains. bound. constricted. and many times because of my own pride. 

i can relate to so much about peter.

prideful.

willing to serve our Lord so readily, yet skulking away at the first sign of danger. hiding. denying.  

yet feeding lambs and fishing for souls.

these are all things i do.

or at least i try.

much like this prince of the apostles i try.

to do the will of God.

to say i love YOU with more than just my lips.

“not in the multitude of words but in the purity of heart.” ~st. benedict

but sometimes living well means being humiliated.

and even being crucified upside down.

by the world’s standards, no, that is not living well.

perhaps that is something we should all stop.

measuring ourselves by the world’s standards.

because much like that prince of the apostles i, too, am called by God.

to this particular vocation. in this particular home. in this particular family. at this particular point in time.

there are no accidents with God.

i may not be able to relate to the idea of being something solid. like a rock.

petra.

maybe i’m just simon.

without the peter.

nevertheless….”every VOCATION becomes more agreeable when united with DEVOTION” ~st. francis de sales

devotion to a SOMEONE.

WHO makes you believe you can walk on water.

even choppy waters.

cold? wet? tired?

those are perfectly normal feelings.

HE is still there to calm the storms.

 until we are ready to start again.

“Lord, save me!” the rock cried.

that just might very well be my motto for this 2011-2012 school year.

it worked for him after all.

so i sort of  found some of my words.

but now my foot is asleep…which is a hint that the rest of my body should be doing the same thing.

goodnight, friends.

i do so love that rosary, btw, barb.

it was just what i needed.

thank you.

 

a collective effort

it started with the idea to make the grammie a quilt.

a colorful mish-mash of fabrics from our stashes.

(those sunflowers are from my garden!!)

for a little woman who had a passion for her garden in her stronger days.

then it turned into a lesson in using the big machine for the girl-child.

those two were my mother’s ideas. she is the patient one.

notice her hands are helping. not mine.

i’m just the picture taker. sans wedding ring and with chewed fingernails *gasp* more bad habits

so i worked on my half alone because there are certain things i won’t do with my children.

teaching them to tie their shoes is one of them.

another is enduring painful lessons wherein i teach something that i really like to do for fun and recreation-but somehow leads to frustration and sometimes even tears on their part-because-well-frankly i don’t really know why-maybe that’s just not my forte.

besides that’s what nana’s are for. don’t you agree?

there was some hand stitching to be done.

a block which read: with love to the woman who taught us to work with our hands.

and the binding. which i really enjoyed sewing with some pearled cotton thread.

two things which ARE right up my alley!

it is now complete. tied with a rainbow of  silk ribbon bows. washed and ready to be delivered today.

because sometimes weekends are for giving…even when you’d rather be taking. a break. or a nap with a newly made quilt that you worked so hard on….

see i’m really not the one with good ideas….i told you so.

ps. tongue in cheek: i did add a small piece of our lady of guadalupe fabric(just in case the little grammie wants to have a “reversion” back to our beloved Catholic faith anytime soon…that was a good idea, huh? *wink*wink*)

some like it hot

i think i have decided i’d like it cold too.

the whole death thing.

freezing vs. volcanic lava.

on another note: the baby’s corner is coming along nicely. i really wanted this spot to be his. but not too cluttered because it is in the main part of the house.

i moved the church pew back upstairs to accommodate this little corner.

after all, we’ve only had mass here once. and i’m sure my strong big boys will gladly bring it down again if there is a need.

they are quite used to my moving-the-furniture-whirlwinds.

it really does make me feel better.

i also moved a bigger table into the girl child’s room.

she is an artist you know.

with a real easel. and brushes and papers everywhere.

so just giving her some extra space clears up clutter from the dining room. and probably adds clutter to her room. but until her and i have a studio someday this will have to do.

encouraging them and giving them space in their creative endeavors is one thing i am really good at as a mama…my next post will deal with a few gray-er areas.

happy saturday friends.

thanks elisa for all of your organizing home posts. you really inpsired me. even if it took me half the summer to get things done. and the other half to write about it!

write on

i have started and stopped this post at least four times in the last couple of weeks.

the title was all wrong and for me when the title is all wrong, well, then the whole post is off…

so what does a lazy perfectionist do in a situation like this?

she. they don’t write anything. that’s what.

and then she they can’t sleep really well for many nights because there are all of these unwritten thoughts swirling around in the head of said lazy perfectionist.

which is not me of course.

wink. wink.

so. as i make this last-ditch. late nite effort to “write on”: what do i want to tell this space?

:: that the baby is reading green eggs and ham. yup. all 63 pages of it. over and over again. almost ad nauseum. and i wouldn’t say that if i weren’t just so darned happy that he is actually reading!

::that the quiet, pensive middle boy turned 14. big sigh. i told him that he couldn’t do that to me. but that’s a whole ‘nother post! because everything isn’t about me. (except, well, maybe here it is!)

::that the daddy had a birthday. 36. but he is a lot like peter pan…so…need i say more? ahem.

::that the biggest boy got his driver’s license. (it came in the mail today and i wanted to send it back). “that is someone else’s grown child!!” i wanted to scream at the postman. (i didn’t of course). what would the neighbors think anyway? we are already weird ’cause we homeschool.

::that the little girl got her stitches out today. and how we are finally done with that blasted needle…and we are really careful now about needles and other sharp things and where we stick them. etc. etc.

::that the biggest girl moved out and turns 18 in 2 weeks. that she sends me snail mail and it makes me cry.

::that i like to whistle the 1812 overture sometimes and the little girl whistles along with me!!! (can you just hear us?)

::that i am thinking a lot about school. lesson plans. earlier bedtimes. and winding down….

:: that i am thinking about the enormous task of homeschooling a child who asks me things like: “mom, would you rather die by burning hot volcanic lava or freeze to death?”

the jury is still out on that one.

i wasn’t quite able to decide…