Book Club

Scott started a book club in the fall that has been a deep source of encouragement for us this year. So far, we've read and discussed Surprised by Hope by N.T. Wright,

Brenda Salter McNeil's A Credible Witness: Reflections on Power, Evangelism and Race,

and we're now reading Christ Plays in 10,000 Places by Eugene Peterson.

My Amazon page for this book informs me that we bought in January of 2006. I've read it before, but it's meaty reading, and reading and discussing it with friends is helping me to better digest the content.

Here's a quote from our current section of the book:

"It is not uncommon among people like us to suppose that if we lived in another place or a better neighborhood with more congenial living conditions, voted in a better government, built finer schools, then we would most certainly live a more spiritual life. St. John's Gospel says, Forget it.

It is also common among people like us to look for ways to free ourselves from the humdrum, escape as often as possible into ecstasy, devise ways to live separated from the clamor of traffic and family, associate so far as possible only with people of like mind, and engage in disciplines and ways of dress and speech that set us apart from "the others." John's Gospel says, Forget it."

We're snowed in this morning, and about to go out and tackle the driveway. Today is, of course, another snow day and tomorrow may be as well. There will at least be a delay, which messes with work schedules and plans. We've been annoyed with each other, and there is in me sometimes a longing to escape, retreat. I would be so much more good if I wasn't holed up in the house trying to manage screen time and food consumption and chores and science fair projects.

But, this is where I am, this is my calling today, and Peterson's words today point me towards full engagement, not retreat.

Off to shovel some snow...

Closed

It's another school cancellation day here. Ice, this time.

In January, the kids had three days of Christmas vacation, nine days off due to snow or cold, three two hours delays, and a grand total of seven regular school days. Awesome.

They're not even happy about snow days anymore.

This post about surviving another school cancellation day pretty much sums up our mindsets about school closings now. They're not fun or exciting anymore, just something to laugh about and work around.

Though today's is pretty good timing. Justin had a lockout at church Friday that involved staying up all night and was up for the SuperBowl, so a day of rest will do him good. Anna has science fair to set up. What music calms my cat? This will, of course, involve getting the cat uncalm first. The cat lives kind of on the edge anyway, she watches Pepper closely to monitor whether it's cuddling time or chase the cat time. So I think she'll be fine being used to further scientific inquiry.

We made sure to find out what Punxatawney Phil said yesterday. No surprise that he said six more weeks of winter; which we kind of figured anyway.

The Cold, the Wind, and the Spirit

The main reason that I never thought we would move back to Fort Wayne is the cold. 

When I was twenty-two I worked part time in a toy shop located in drafty, cold old school. My fingers began to turn purple, swell up, and develop open sores. My mom and I went to a dermatologist who scared me by taking pictures of my fingers and naming the diseases that I probably had--scleroderma or lupus. I had neither, just Raynaud's disease, which is sometimes a symptom of these more serious conditions, but in my case it just means that I need to watch my exposure to cold.

In Raynaud's disease the blood vessels spasm, then close, blocking blood flow. There's a medicine that I have on hand if I need it. I haven't taken it in decades, but it's in my kitchen cabinet now, just in case. As I remember, it turns me very pink as it does its job of opening all of my blood vessels.

Growing up, I never enjoyed the cold, and this condition gave me another reason to see it as my enemy.

Months ago, I read about French peasants in the mountains, generations ago, moving as little as possible and mostly staying in bed all winter. It sounded good to me, but not very practical.

So, I've been embracing the season instead of hiding from it this year. I've gone for walks in the snow.

 Looking for beauty, and finding it.

After a snowfall, I pop outside and take pictures. Sometimes, our yard looks like Narnia.

And there's Pepper, of course. She loves the snow. Her enthusiasm is contagious.

I've gone cross-country skiing. I fall on the slightest of inclines, but I don't mind falling and looking silly.

And I've run in it. A lot. When I run, I'm warm. 

Sometimes my hands are so warm that they get hot and I take off my gloves to cool them down.

Today, it's cold. The thermometer read minus seventeen fahrenheit this morning. I've listened to the wind these last two nights, in bed. It's too cold to take pictures, or play with the dog outside. 

A friend said to me yesterday that Spring will be all the sweeter this year. It's true. I will bask in it and barbecue and rake and plant.

And as I reflect on the wind and wonder how to embrace these days too, I've thought of the wind in scripture--Jesus' words to Nicodemus, who came to him in the night, about the Spirit coming like the wind, blowing where it wishes. And I've thought of the one hundred twenty gathered when they heard the sound of a mighty wind and the Holy Spirit fell on them and the church began. 

So, on these cold, windy days, I pray for my city of Fort Wayne. The city I've returned to even though I thought I had left it for good. I pray for peace and justice because I know that where the God reigns, there is healing and wholeness, justice and mercy. And my city needs these things.

Snow Pics

 The snow is here. I went outside to take peaceful close-ups in the yard.

Everything is super pretty topped in snow.

And then there's Pepper...

 Lovely snow-topped thistle.

Wild snow beast.

Artful wood pile.

Scary snow beast.

Snow-topped thistle family.

Pepper, "Can I help build the snowman?"

Anna, "Sure, here's how it's done." 

Hope y'all enjoy the snow as much as I will!

Well, I did it...

Smiling because it's almost over

It was clear last week that the weather would be snowy for the Gingerbread Pursuit.

I left the house in the dark a little after 7am, and made my way very slowly downtown. Friday night, I'd looked up parking and our start location.  I parked in a parking garage to avoid having to shovel snow off the car post-race, headed to Berry Street, then quickly realized that I had left my gloves in the car, so went back and grabbed them. After walking a couple of blocks (it was light now), I realized that I had made a massive miscalculation and had no clue where Berry Street was.

Downtown was pretty deserted, as one might expect on wintry Saturday morning. I was on the lookout for anyone in brightly colored running gear, with no luck for blocks and blocks, when finally spotted one of our running mentors running eastward. I'd been walking north.

So, I ended up having a good, brisk walk as a warm-up and made it to the packet pick-up locale with plenty of time to spare.

Good to have the ambulance handy

We started the race on a main road that had been plowed at some point. But then we moved to a side street. And then to sidewalks and paths where we went over bridges, along a river, and by the historic old fort. My main goal was to run in tread marks or places where people had packed down the snow to make it at least a little easier. It was like running in sand. 

This is my running friend who does her hair and make-up before the run. I could use some work in this area.

So, it was totally the hardest running conditions that I've ever run in. On the bright side, it wasn't icy, and the temperature wasn't bad--high twenties.

I would never apply for this person's job.

I did make it to the end where the poor person working as The Gingerbread Man (I hope he/she was paid well for this) stood for pictures.

Or the reindeer handler's job, for that matter.

In addition to the Gingerbread Man photo op, we were served water, a large gingerbread cookie and a muffin in a lovely warm room. My time per mile was a minute and a half less than the four mile run two weeks ago, which made me very happy, and I placed tenth in my age group. I'm sure there were plenty of people who were registered who didn't come, so it's not like I was ten out of fifty, but still--ten sounds good.

We couldn't get the ears to stick up enough.

Back at home, we got ready for our extended family Christmas celebration. Anna dressed Pepper in her reindeer costume, not Pepper's favorite thing.

My foodie brother.

We had tons of wonderful food, including my brother Chip's beef wellington.

Sprinkling herbs...

I'd never had beef wellington before. It's totally impressive.

Almost ready to roll...

Prosciutto, foie gras, mushrooms...

I'll be buying puff pastry in January for our galette des rois

puff pastry...

Just out of the oven. It was seriously delicious.

Here's link to a local news story that includes coverage of the run. The two people speaking were in our training group.

Weather Report--Balmy for the Run

At the beginning of October, I started running with a local group. Going into it, I wasn't sure  if I would be a part of the Walk/Run Group or the Running, But Very Slowly Group, but after running a mile the first night without dying, I claimed a spot in the R,BVS group (They don't actually call us that, but we all know that's what we are.)

We've been training for the Gingerbread Pursuit four mile race which will take place this Saturday.  Justin and I ran four miles on Thanksgiving morning at the Galloping Gobbler, so I know I can do this one.

Are everyone else's kids way cooler than they are without even trying?  Maybe if I practice a blank teenager stare and raise an eyebrow sardonically?

The problem with training this time of year is that it's cold outside. I've learned when I need to layer pants, how long I have to run to feel warm, and at what point my face won't feel warm no matter how long I run. All helpful things to know.

Here's the weather report for this week...

I had to look up what Sunday and Monday's weather symbols meant--mass flooding? It's fog.

I saw this and was happy. Saturday will be positively balmy! A high of above freezing for the day may mean high twenties in the morning, which would mean that though I need a double bottom layer, my face won't be frozen during the run. Or it may still be 18 when we run at 8:30, which will be, um, painfully cold and may call for a third bottom layer.

The snow shouldn't pose a problem since the my path will be cleared by all the speedy runners ahead of me. 

So I can now add running to my very short list of things that I'm willing to do when it's in the twenties outside--get the mail, walk from my car to the store, shovel snow, and um.. that's about it. I'll slowly make peace with midwestern winters, one activity at a time.

Keeping Warm

It's been unseasonably cold the last couple days (a low of 22 this morning), and Anna and I have been making fires daily for about a week now. This has always been Scott's thing, but he was recovering from minor surgery last week and then was out of town for a couple days. And I have learned that I really enjoy tending a fire. This first picture is from a day last week when Anna was home from school with a cold. I had cut off access to screens for the day, so she sewed a dress for her stuffed kitten and took a picture of it. Our fire is blazing in the background. 

Out of all of Anna's stuffed animals, Pepper is most excited when she nabs this one.

We had light snow yesterday morning. I'm glad it's supposed to warm up this weekend as there's still a lot of leaf blowing that needs to happen.

Our wintry yard.

This last picture is our family water bottle. One of our team members, Gwen, left it for us at the end of her year in Nice. Team members sometimes left things that they couldn't fit in their suitcases, and this is my very favorite left behind item. I had never used a hot water bottle before, but quickly warmed to it. ( :

Last year, Anna claimed it as her own. Heating the water and filling it up became a part of our nightly routine. I came across it a couple weeks ago in Scott's bathroom cupboard and have been using it at night to keep my feet warm. I appreciate that it's warm, but doesn't have claws, meow,  or move as the other similarly-sized warm object in the house does.

Thank you, Gwen!

The problem is that Anna noticed the resurfacing of the hot water bottle, and then two days ago, Justin saw it and put dibs on it (a family thing with things that are in short supply...in Nice, the kids would call dibs on the bathroom when we were on the way home since there was just one. Once, after we moved here, Anna called dibs on the bathroom, and when I pointed out that we have enough bathrooms to go around, she called dibs on the dog. Smart girl). 

So, I just ordered two water bottles with soft-looking covers that should arrive soon. It's the flannel cover that makes ours so nice, so am hoping the new ones are as soft. I thought about saving them as fun Christmas presents, but I don't want to share for a month and a half.

Today, I started some organizing of a basement storage area that we never really got in order when we moved. So, I started a fire in the downstairs fireplace. There's a cozy area in the basement with a large picture window next to the fireplace that I thought would be a great place to sit and read. But, we rarely used it this year. Today's discovery is that this fireplace is the best one in the house. It's much wider than the two upstairs, so it actually does some heating, and it's easy to sit by it and put my feet up to warm them (a constant theme, I know...).

The nice thing about three fireplaces is that if Scott, Anna, and I each want our own fires, we could. Though I would totally call dibs on the basement one.

Btw, Justin shows little interest in pyromania, though he quickly pulled up a chair and put up his feet by this one when he got home from school.

Anna's Psalm

Some of you may remember the picture from this post in September of 2011. Anna was starting a new school--a small bilingual school that we hoped would be a safer environment for her and us as we worked to figure things out for her educationally. If I look closely at the picture, I see the worried hopefulness in her face.

The school cost $10,000 that year. We didn't know how we were going to get it. We weren't making ends meet anyway, but in 2011, this school seemed to be our only lifeline, and we signed her up.

One small pentecostal church in Nice where Anna went for Royal Rangers, a Christian scouting program, gave us envelopes filled with money. The pastor was working on finding a way to cover the whole amount. That still makes me cry. This church was no different from the other churches in Nice--small, filled with many just trying to make ends meet, with limited facilities and resources. And they handed us envelopes filled with cash.

Many gave money and prayed for Anna that year. One day in March, returning from a neuropsychological evaluation of Anna, we reached the very sudden, and very frightening realization that we needed to return to the U.S. And now we're here.

Last night at our church in Fort Wayne, Anna and I were at the mid-week children's program. The lesson from the evening was centered around David. During group time, Anna and I sat on our blanket and looked up verses that David had written in the Psalms and then worked on our own Psalm.

The beginning of the fill in the blank sheet was ...

God, I praise you because you are ___________. I remember the time when I needed help with _________ and you _____________. You are always there for me.

Anna wrote that God is "totally awesome" and remembered the time when she needed help with school in Nice and God helped by getting her to the bilingual school. At the time we were stumbling in the dark, trying to figure out what to do one day at a time, praying for wisdom, asking for help. And two years later, Anna looks back with thankfulness.

I'm thankful for her resilience, for answers to the prayers for wisdom, and for the many who helped us through that last year in Nice.

Baggage

This is my carry-on suitcase. Anna and I bought it at the cheap luggage store across from the train station in Nice a day or two before we left France. The one we bought for Anna is way cuter, mine was meant to work for Justin as well, so it needed to be neutral.

Last Friday, I filled it up. I was headed to the InterVarsity Women's Conference in Milwaukee.

I've started running, and needed to run two miles Saturday morning to keep on track with my program, so I had my running gear. I packed wool socks in case the hotel room was cold, a pair of comfortable, low-heeled boots for walking in Milwaukee during free time on Saturday afternoon, and all the other necessities of life for two nights away from home.

Before leaving, I logged onto my public library account to renew my book. It was due to be turned in Saturday, and I hate how the library refers to me as a delinquent user when I'm late (which is often). 

Here's the book...

It's a challenging book, and I highly recommend it, by the way.

In any case, the library said no to my renew request because there are holds on it (it was released recently and the author was interviewed on NPR, which is where I heard of it), so I grabbed the book on the way out the door and dropped it off.

Two and a half hours later, I arrived in Merrillville at Starbucks, where I was to meet friends to carpool the remaining drive. I was on schedule and collected my things from the car, looking forward to my chai tea latté. 

Only, the carry-on wasn't there. I checked twice, and with a sinking feeling, realized that my bag never made it to the car.

I picked up my backpack and purse, tried to problem solve, and headed into the Starbucks. Halfway across the parking lot, I turned back to the car. I really couldn't believe that I had left it behind. I unlocked the car and hunted again, apparently believing that it was more likely that the suitcase had shrunken to the size of a laptop and slid under a seat than that I had forgotten it. 

Needless to say, it hadn't magically reappeared. Shocking, I know.

My friends arrived just after I got my chai tea latté, and they enthusiastically planned  a quick shopping trip. They whisked me over to Kohl's, and we located the necessities. I found a pair of jeans that fit, and they proposed a couple shirts that I would have never noticed my own, but that I really like.  

There could be a deeper meaning in all of this--my bag was filled with my Goodwill, garage sale, hand-me-down clothes and was replaced with cute new stuff (though the things in my bag were cute too--this was a women's conference after all, and these things do matter).

Or something about how I had done my best to prepare and pack nice shirts, but there were better, brighter shirts out there for me...

Or that I would be better off continuing in my habit of collecting late fees at the library. I am pretty sure as I think about it that this is all the library's fault. Or maybe the dog's since I always feel bad when I leave walk her to our room and put up the baby gate.

Or some life lesson about double-checking that I have everything before getting in the car (Scott suggested putting everything in front of the door before leaving) . 

Milwaukee was fantastic. It was slightly embarrassing to walk in holding my clothes and toiletries in a shopping bag, but only slightly.

By the way, I had no idea that Milwaukee was such a beautiful city. There is some stunning architecture.

Here are some of my Indiana InterVarsity friends on our way to lunch on Saturday. 

I came away from the conference deeply encouraged and happy. I am so pleased to still be a part of the InterVarsity family after all of these years. I was a student twenty-eight years ago, and have been on staff, a volunteer, and spouse wife off and on during our time overseas. 

Oh, and I almost always unpack immediately when I return home. But I haven't unpacked the carry-on. Yet.

It's a Party!

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I work just south of downtown at The Reclamation Project. Since February, I've been coordinating a  low-cost translation and interpretation service that provides work to our growing team of translators.

This service is just a small part of what TRP has been doing for ten years ...

English classes
Circle of Friends joining Americans to recent refugees in friendship for an ongoing exchange of culture and understanding
Working with immigrants to learn the 911 system, get driver's licenses, and pass the citizenship test
Gallery space for local artwork
A sewing circle that is currently making hats to sell for the holiday season...

All of these activities and others flow from our location in the historic Rialto Theatre. Our office is a beautifully restored space that was formerly a cigar shop, and there is much to do to restore the theatre.

To celebrate The Reclamation Project's ten year anniversary and raise funds, we're having a party on November 1st...



Sounds fun, right? For those in the Fort Wayne area looking to support a community-building endeavor, have fun on a Friday night, and see a lot of fringe and feather boas, this is your event.

I found a couple feather boas at a garage sale last week, so I have an extra if anyone needs one.

The facebook event info is here.

Contact me if you have any questions. Scott and I will be there--though not sure that he'll be sporting a feather boa...

Collegiate licensed pet jerseys

I went grocery shopping today at Meijer. I've mostly made my peace with this store after spending a soul-deadening hour and a half there on one of my first grocery trips. I had to keep backtracking the length of the store to find items that were placed illogically. 

Like, the yogurt is not next to the other dairy products. Why does it get it's own section at the very back of the store across from things like refrigerated cookie dough and refrigerated tortillas? I really don't know. 

Costco and Aldi are both opening in the coming months, so I may drop Meijer shopping--though I bet the scale of Costco will be equally daunting and involve backtracking. Though, if they provide quality snacking stations (aka free samples), I can handle it.

In any case, a large sign with this advertisement was near the front of the store today...

I think this is funny on many levels. It's funny that the ad points out that the jerseys are licensed. I'm assuming the dogs don't really care as much as my son does whether a jersey is the real thing. The big dogs look none too thrilled with having been dressed up. The little dogs are happy enough, but then they're probably used to this kind of thing. 

And it's kind of an interesting juxtaposition of two American values--pets and sports. There were plenty of pet stores selling pet clothing in Nice for those harsh Mediterranean winters. And plenty of little dogs in sweaters, but I never saw a doggie soccer jersey. French people would think it was silly. 

But then again, one day, as I was walking down the street in Nice, I saw a man and a woman sitting at a café table with their two small dogs. Each on their own chair. I was totally bummed not to have my camera. Americans would think that this was not only silly, but a public health threat.

Pepper has long since grown out of Anna's Build-a-Bear outfits, which is truly unfortunate. For all of us.

Pepper Lovey won't be getting one of these jerseys. She has plenty of fur. And sports really aren't her thing.

Pepper Post

After a silent summer and a whirlwind of a September, I'm ready to get back to writing projects, including the blog.

I want to write eventually about some summer and fall reading, family happenings and pictures, but today will be about the pooch.

I think she first began doing this about a month or two ago...

First of all, Pepper rings the bell to go outside. We trained her to do this when she was a puppy. It's a lot better than scratching or barking at the door to go out.

The door is in the kitchen and leads to the garage.  The cat actually does this now as well, showing that you can teach a cat new tricks...If no one comes, Pepper just rings it again until we come. If we have left her home for too many hours with freedom to roam the house, she will ring it, pull it off the door, and pee next to it. This has happened once. It was funny.

Pepper waiting patiently at the door after ringing.

 The door leads into the garage...

Note the cat door on the door to outside. We haven't managed to teach the cat to go through it.

The door leads to the side of the house. For several months, we had a short wire fence so Pepper would just go to the gate. She eventually figured out that it was easy to hop over--especially once the neighbors across the street had puppies tied up in their front yard.

We had to hold Pepper's collar as we guided her to the gate to the back yard. The puppies are gone now, so she's back to being compliant.

Pepper being compliant.

Most of the time, this is the end of story. We close the door, Pepper does her business, plays, hangs out, chases things...and eventually gives a bark to be let back in. But sometimes, especially on days when I'm home alone with her...

I get this...

The look

...the look.

She doesn't run off. She looks at me, intently. Sometimes she gets into that doggy play pose--head down and upper body on the ground with tail up and wagging. The first time she did it, I was confused for a few seconds. Then I realized.

She was inviting me to play.

Even if I'm busy, I almost always come. There's nothing like being invited to come outside and play. Here's one version of the invitation...

Once I'm out with her, we don't do much. She usually roots around for a stick.

Pepper on the wood chippy part of the yard.

She finds one, runs around, chews on it...

Once she finds a stick, she often won't share it. Or she'll bring it to me, drop it, then grab it again once I reach down to take it. It's a little annoying.

Pepper not sharing her stick.

Sometimes, I can get her running back and forth down this path. It's super cute. She bounces when she runs.

Path to bench we never sit on.

Though it does lead to this area's grass needing constant replanting. It's where she skids to a stop and turns back around. So worth it though.

The skid spot.

She probably does about the same stuff that she does when I'm not there. She just wants company. If she is willing to drop a stick for me to throw, she rarely chases it more than three times. If she's super boisterous, she'll start racing back and forth.

But, usually, we just hang out. She chews on a stick, I look at the basil and wonder about picking it and freezing it and then put it off for another day.

Still not sharing the stick

Pepper's kind of like me. She doesn't need exciting entertainment; she just wants to hang out with her people. I think this is her doggie version of getting a Chai Tea Latte with a friend at Starbucks. 

Tarps, Mudslides, and Pudding Races

Anna has been at day camp this week. It's the kind of day camp where the kids wear old clothes and shoes,  get super dirty and wet. In spite of weather in the 80s, they wear long pants to protect them from bug bites.

In the morning, when we arrive in the parking lot, kids are standing next to their cars with arms splayed out while their parents spray them down with sunscreen and top it off with a thick layer of insect repellent.

On Monday morning, Anna's counselor suggested that I have a tarp in the car when I picked her up in the afternoon. This threw me a little. I already knew to have some towels and a change of clothes, but a tarp? He may have been joking, and I'm glad I didn't have this conversation in French or it would have sent me to a frantic search of a dictionary, and I would have worried all day that all the other French parents would have a tarp, and my child would be the only without. That poor American kid.

This is an outdoor/nature camp that along with camp songs and fires and hikes includes activities like The Mud Slide and The Pudding Race. I was in  suspense about the pudding race. Parents were to provide a box of instant pudding at the beginning of the week, and I wasn't sure what to make of putting the words pudding and race together. Would the children race barefoot through pudding? Slide through it? Propel other objects through it? I was intrigued.

Anna's group had their turn yesterday.

Here's what they do at the pudding race:  the children lay down, put their hands behind their backs, and then slurp up as much pudding as they can. I'm thinking this wouldn't be a bad thing if it was chocolate pudding, but it's a mixture of all the puddings. Nasty. It's actually the only activity this week that Anna was less than enthusiastic about. She said it gave her a head-ache. Fair enough.

This leads my thoughts back to France though. I can imagine no scenario in which I would drop my child off and be told (even in jest) they will be such a mess at the end of the day that a tarp will be required to protect my car's upholstery. And I just cannot in my wildest imagination picture French kids laying down, hands behind backs, and slurping up chocolate mousse. Ever. I think my French friends who are mothers would be mortified at this. And, most of the kids didn't wear hats this week. French kids always wear caps for camps or school outings. Always.

Last night,  Anna brought home a stick and decorated it because today she is not allowed to talk for most of the day. As an eleven year old, she will be working hard to accomplish tasks, like building a fire, so she can earn her dog tag. She practiced this yesterday, though we could talk to her if we held her stick.

Camp finishes with a PowWow this afternoon. Then I'll be picking up my wet, dirty, smoky kid who, if all went well, will be proudly wearing her dog tag.

The Zoo

This was our first official full week of summer. I was a little nervous going into it, wondering about managing work schedules and trying to make sure the kids don't zone out in front of screens for too many hours at a time.

Monday, the kids and I went to the zoo. This may be a weekly thing since we have a membership. As I saw other families with strollers, I was grateful that my kids are big kids now. I don't have to push them around and they usually don't cry in the middle of outings.

Anna and a goat

 I took a picture of Justin and a goat too, but he made me promise not to put it on facebook. Promise kept. I made no such promises about pictures taken the rest of the day and put on the blog...

We happily paid a dollar for a lettuce leaf to feed the giraffe.

Feeding the giraffes is the coolest thing. This one is pretty easygoing, so the keeper let us interact with her. The biggest giraffe is more aggressive and will head butt people if given the opportunity.

She's so pretty.

 Question of the day--do you know why giraffes' tongues are black (or grayish)?

We waited for a woman to vacate an egg so that we could play.

Anna in her egg

A little big for my egg.

For some reason there are several pictures of Justin in his egg. He looks the coolest in this one though.

At the end of our first week of summer, I have to say that doing summer with a car and plenty of activities available in the area is way more fun than doing it without. 

Tuesday garden pictures

 New flowers are popping up here. Methinks that our previous owners had a penchant for purple.

Though, perhaps, it's just that flowers that grow well in the shade tend to be purple. I don't know.

These are all in the back yard, aka, the nature preserve.

A little pink for variety's sake.

This is the path lined with the plethora of pretty, purple plants. We never sit on this bench. It seems so far away. Maybe with some cushions and a mosquito net...

This is in the front butterfly garden. I wonder what it will be.

I came upon this stray Christmas ornament while taking pictures.  Pepper has apparently been raiding the storage closet. Bad dog.

And Anna has discovered the wonders of glue gunning. I set up this craft table for her birthday, and she's requested that is stay up for now, so it's the first thing you see when you come in the door. I bought most of the materials at a garage sale several weeks ago.

So, if you're in the area and want to stick tulle and flower petals together with a snazzy hot glue gun, come on over.

On Parenting

I belong to two parent groups.

In the first, I’m proud that my kid tested into honors English. I cheer for him as he plays on his school athletic teams. I encourage his musical abilities. As he prepares for high school, we talk about what he wants to study in college. He’s smart, athletic, musical, and an extravert. The world is his oyster.

There are lots of parents of kids like this where I live. We congregate around our kids’ activities as we cheer them, guide them, and support them.

These kids are going to be fine. Sure, we need to put rules in place and help them to make wise decisions as they navigate teenage years, but overall, we’re not too worried.  And, if we admit it, we may be a little proud. We’ve parented so well.

I’m also a part of another parent group. We’re not so vocal. When we get together, we share more struggles than victories.

When I’m with this group, I can talk about how my daughter and I studied every day for a week for her social studies test. How we made flash cards out of index cards. How the teacher read the test to her. And how I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach when I saw her grade marked in red at the top of the test. Thirty-seven.

In this group, any accomplishment is a victory. I share about Anna’s violin lessons, not because she’s having any recitals or going to any competitions, but because, sometimes, she plays beautifully. And every time she does, I am hoping that she learns that she can master a new note, a new measure, a new song, a new anything. And I hope this counteracts the many, many times she has felt and experienced the opposite.

In this group, our aspirations for our children are different. We worry about their self-esteem. We figure out the special education system. We wonder when to push and when to let things go. We're deeply grateful when we encounter kindness and understanding. And easily angered when we don't.

The school of parenting's lessons on grace, patience, and humility are etched on me more deeply because of my membership in this second group. Here, I give advice more sparingly, listen more readily, and cry more easily.

These Days

The white bleeding hearts. Pink ones appeared out back a couple days later.

It's been a long wait until Spring, but it has fully arrived. And our yard is a delight. I can't name much of what's coming up, and all I've done to contribute to the process was to clear some leaves out of the flower beds. Definitely a case of reaping what I didn't sow.

Lots of lovely tulips. Most are yellow, but there's a lone red one in the back.

So the wait for Spring is over, but I'm in another holding pattern as we're waiting for results of special education testing for Anna. The meeting with school personnel is in two weeks. Anna is actually enjoying the testing process, which is a big change as we both cried during and/or after previous episodes of testing in France with both the occupational therapist and the neuropsychologist. Testing during school hours with someone she trusts is so much better and likely a much more reliable measure.

She said that she did some math testing today--that it was fun and hard. Two words that don't generally go together in Anna's world.

I spent some time today re-researching sensory processing disorder online and managed to freak myself out. Some people find help in restricting dairy and gluten. I'm having enough trouble these days juggling our schedules and dietary preferences--the thought of going dairy and gluten free sent me into a near tizzy of wondering what Anna would possibly manage to eat within those confines...

And purple flowers

But then, I took a deep breath and closed my browser windows of kid-friendly dairy/gluten free meals, and decided to wait. We'll get results. We'll find out what resources are available through the school. We will think. We'll pray. We'll plan. We'll decide on priorities--a nutritionist? Occupational therapy? Tutoring over the Summer?

And we'll enjoy this beautiful place full of flowers that we didn't plant and maybe add a few of our own.

Odds and Ends

Today it's raining, and I don't mind a bit. It was only this weekend that the last bit of snow melted from the north side of the house, and yesterday's 80 degrees seemed a little premature.

I do feel greedy for Spring to arrive fully arrive though. There are buds on lots of the trees, but no leaves, and I'm ready to be surrounded by green again.

Notice Pepper attempting a photo bomb from the left, but I was too fast.  Hah!

There's plenty of green popping up though. I don't remember what much of it is, but I'm extraordinarily grateful that the previous owners were kind enough to plant plenty of perennials that they assured me needed minimum care.

I just raked out the beds, and I try to keep el doggo from tearing too much of it up.

This is the butterfly garden in the front, which has grown up lots this week.  Pepper does have a penchant for tearing up a fernlike thing here. 

On another subject, I've always endeavored to keep my house a glitter-free zone--as in, no glitter crafting. I just don't like finding glitter weeks, months, years later.

Unfortunately, there was a cache of it in a box of crafting supplies I picked up at a garage sale last fall, and Anna discovered this weekend when I was out.

Some bits on her floor...

When Anna crafts, she spreads out on her floor. I have swept, vacuumed, etc, but the glitter is everywhere.

bane of my life

I'll likely be finding errant sparkles twenty years from now.

Anna doesn't know that I hate glitter. The battle was already lost when I discovered her awash in the stuff. She had put some of it on the top of her head. I didn't ask why. A little more comes out with each shampoo. And she was being creative and independent--both traits that I encourage as much as possible. 

So I didn't scold, and we didn't have time to do a big clean up at the time.

And I was the one who brought the wretched stuff into our home.

So, if you need a little extra sparkle in your life and are in the Fort Wayne area, come and sit on a couch, go to the bathroom, or if you want lots of sparkle, go and hang out in Anna's room for a minute or so. I'm trying to stay sparkle free, but just noticed a stray on my right forearm...

Weekend Pictures

This weekend Scott's brother and niece came by for a visit in the middle of their spring break college tour. They arrived too late for Anna's fun filled Friday school carnival where I manned the clown bean bag toss for seventy minutes. Note to self, don't wear boots with heels if you are going to be squatting down repeatedly to pick up bean bags. I thought I was in shape. I'm not.

Scott and his brother

Saturday was a beautiful day, so we dropped by my office at the Rialto Theater for a brief tour, then went to Fox Island for a walk. This is less than ten minutes from our house, so Scott signed us up for a membership.

Scott and his dog

It's a nice place to walk, and dogs are allowed on the non-nature preserve part of the park. There's even a doggie beach where she can be off leash come summertime.

 It was beautiful in a stark, clear and crisp kind of way.

 The weather was warm enough for light jackets.

The girlsies (Anna and her friend) played down at the beach. I wonder if this is packed out in the summer.

The trees against the blue sky reminded me of Nice in the winter. There's something about naked branches reaching into blue sky that compels me to snap a picture.

And then...

Five and a half inches and yet another day of school cancelled Monday. The school year now goes until June 4.

It was beautiful, though somehow this was all a lot more charming and magical in December and January than it is at the end of March.

Nonetheless, it's still very beautiful. And Anna still exclaimed, "It looks like Narnia," when she looked outside.

Home Alone

Scott's in Indy for meetings today, and I'm not at the office. So, I'm home alone and tending to things like my soul and the refrigerator.

I've decided we need a doggie door. Pepper rings her bell to go out very, very frequently. Sometimes the cat joins her. You may be wondering what the items strewn across the floor are...

Poor bird

This is a small stuffed robin that belongs to Anna. It sings a robin song if you squeeze it. 

Anna's new stamps

Here are some stamps that I pulled out for Anna when school was cancelled Monday because of freezing rain.

Please let me out and stop taking pictures. (She totally makes you want a dog, right?)

You may be wondering why my daughter is so careless with her things. Pepper is the true culprit. We forgot to put up the doggie gate on Anna's door this morning. For Pepper, Anna's room is the room of forbidden treasures. She knows these things are not hers, but will steal something occasionally, then trot to the door with her prize in her mouth. There's a certain trot that's the "I've just stolen something" trot that's immediately recognizable.

She used to keep the forbidden items in her mouth as she rang her bell to go out, seemingly unaware that we could see what was in her mouth and were unlikely to let her out with a precious Harris family object.

Now, she knows there's not a chance, but I suppose she drops them here just so we know she got away with it.

Maybe a doggie door isn't such a good idea...

And here are some pictures from last week's school cancellation, which was way more fun than the freezing rain cancellation...

Justin in his neon hat

10.9 inches

Pepper and her best friend, Charlie,  playing in the field with the kiddos

This is balls of snow encrusted on Pepper's leg. It takes a while to get off.

Happy Friday!