shadow or light?

There are days when I don't know which end is up. When my stomach jumps with unexplained butterflies, and not the good kind. A small surge of fear that grabs me from out of nowhere, over and over again throughout the day. Tears that well up, that I want so badly to control, but can't. When I keep praying for help, for peace, and yet small pressures keep mounting and I can't see clearly.

Some days are just like that for me. Not many, though, thankfully. Those days pass, and I realize that reality doesn't need to overwhelm me.

I find myself thinking that I just have a problem; that other people float through their days on a cloud of contentment, mostly untouched by the stresses that I wrestle with. I know that this is not true, can't be true, and yet I sit here believing it on some level. I also wonder if I have a bit of bi-polar disorder, or am I just overly sensitive? Who cares, really. Because peace is available for the asking, and joy is not elusive. It is given in so many small gifts every day, if I only have the sense not to chuck it out the window.

Today is one of those normal days, where I can see both the shadow and the light, and simply have to choose my focus. Why I don't always make the right choice is beyond me, but I'm working on that.

If there's a crisis, I'm probably not your girl

So, yes, there was an earthquake today. I feel sort of irritated that this will probably be the 7 millionth blog post about this East Coast quake, 5.8 on the richter scale, but who cares? Some things just need to be recorded.

I was at work, sitting down to my lunch break, when we heard a whooshing noise, and looked at each other, confused. The floor and walls were shaking (really? is that what happens during an earthquake? enlightening, isn't it?), and the length moulding started sliding around where it was leaning up against the wall. The water cooler was our proof that it wasn't over yet. I thought to myself, "I should do something!" and continued to sit blankly. "I'm not with my kids!" was the only other coherent thought that passed through my mind. After a couple of minutes, we started trying to reach our loved ones, see if they felt it, shake off some of the weirdness. I think that the undercurrent of our strange inability to focus on our jobs was the idea that if it could happen once, it could happen again, and worse.

So yeah, I am not the quickest reactor, or the best at thinking on my feet. If I have a few minutes to process, I can rise to the occasion admirably, but if action needs to be taken within a 2o second window, well, I just might get knocked on the head.

And of course, Rowan and Genevieve were delighted. Experiencing an 'earthqueg' was on their list, too.

4-year-old bucket list

We went camping with all 3 kids last weekend. OK, wait, 2 weekends ago now (sometimes it takes me a while to get back to a post hastily written and edit). It was a mixed bag, to be sure, but there were moments of absolute delight. We will do this again. Camping is a funny thing. Part of me feels like an elf, as if I ought to be wearing a woodland crown of leaves and berries. Part of me feels like I ought to have packed up my nonexistent athletic gear and my imaginary mountain bike... neither one of these is quite right, although the first one is closer...

Rowan caught a large-mouth bass, though. Amazing! At least to me...

So there's one experience the girls can check off their list. Actually two; camping was on there, too. They have quite a long list of things that they have never done. It doesn't matter to them at all that a lot of these things are not experiences that Dan or I have had either. I am loving that they have such a grand list. Here are a few:

-ride on an airplane

-ride on a motorboat

-go parachuting

-ride a camel

-go on a submarine

-ride on a space shuttle

-go on a whale sighting expedition

cheeseball post

They're round, orange, salty, crunchy, and they stain the tips of my fingers. What's not to love?

I do love cheeseballs. But this post ain't actually gonna be about cheeseballs.

When I was in high school I was in a play called "Our Town". It was my first and only foray into drama, without props, songs, or even costumes. Lately I keep thinking about one of Thornton Wilder's lines, and I only remember it because it belonged to my character.

Well, I died rather young, married, and maybe even with kids (can't quite remember). And I am reflecting on my life, revisiting the place that I lived and loved, a small quiet town. I am looking around and naming the places and things, for the sake of the audience, because, remember - no props. A tree that I especially loved, favorite spots, that sort of thing. I remember the director getting frustrated with me, as far back as auditions, because I couldn't get the gist of listing these items with any real feeling; he told me I sounded like I was reading off a grocery list.

He was so right, I just couldn't wrap my brain around it. "Do any people realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?" That was the question I asked, or something like that. And the answer was "Saints and poets maybe, they do some." I don't think you have to be a saint or a poet, to realize life though. Maybe you feel it more, the highs and lows, the beauty and the pain. But you can live your life. You can live it fully, and remember to examine the moments with appreciation. Take a mental snapshot. Feel the exquisite perfection of a funny little laugh from a child you love, or watch the clouds turn pink or gray or golden-edged. My goodness, does time ever speed by. It seems to slow down a bit, though, when you grab a few moments and squeeze them dry, drain all the sweetness and cast away the sting.

Thanks Dave Saadeh, for trying to teach me something. For teaching me something, even if it took me 17 years to learn it.

keeping on

I am actually not sure what to write, but am trying to keep up with my writing. As a discipline, as a filter through which to reexamine myself, as a way to organize my thoughts, and as a little bit of a record for my kids to read later, If they are ever interested. Which they will be, 'cause who doesn't like to read about themselves, how cute and charming and bright and funny they are? no brainer.

Lately, I am reveling in the way that they rename things, with certainty, just remembering differently, and replacing definitions in their minds. Seriously, it is just so delightful. Examples:

cranberry lifter (cherry picker)

beach eagles (sea gulls)

up side up (right side up)

basil (random weed)

I am making things for etsy, enjoying it, knitting, and not enjoying that as much. Because darn! I just made Jude a hat, and it was tricky and cute, and cable knit and it is also sized for a 6-12 month old. Oops. I had better check my gauge more carefully before embarking on projects like this. So now, do I give it to someone or list it on spec, hoping that someone will be looking for just such a hat for there soon-to-be-one-ish child? Hats seem to sell more by custom order for me, although I did sell one already made adult hat... or I could just rip it out. But I am coming to the end of my yarn, and so I think I wouldn't actually have enough for a Jude-sized hat. Sigh. Ok. listing it:

Reconnect

I have had no internet for quite a while now... actually I am not even sure how long, but it must have been a day or two after the last post. I have enjoyed the time I've saved, but have not enjoyed the disconnect. I did not miss facebook. In spite of all the "friends" I have, it never fails to make me feel lousy. But facebook is a psuedo-reality, and I think I will just avoid being there, unless I have a purpose. Anyway, it's good to have email again, and online banking. Yay for convenience and communication!

To follow up the last post, God is so good to us. The Monday after I posted, I felt like I needed to be praying in a more specific way. So, I started out with praying for us to find an affordable vehicle THAT week. Tuesday, we got a phone call that there was a free minivan available. Pretty affordable, huh? And Dan had been praying for a minivan or an SUV. The more specific the prayer, the more obvious the answer.

Amazingly, I sold three items from my Etsy store last week... amazing because I have been completely neglecting Etsy, especially without internet. It made me want to get back to craftiness, so I have been knitting hats in the heat. Wierd, I know, but I have been enjoying it. So look for new listings!

It's good to be back.

On Love (I can't stop!)

Rowan, Genevieve, Moses, Jude, mesmerized by Pluto (Mickey Mouse's dog, remember?) shorts, breaking into spontaneous applause (!). Sweet small warm relaxed bodies.

I am in the kitchen, coffee cup drained, thinking about what it means to love. Reading Francisco Goldman's Say Her Name. He said (in an interview) that he chose the fiction genre to tell the story of Aura's (his wife's) death to uncover the truth, or discover it. He attributed to her "all the good lines", because wasn't that love? Yes, isn't it? To give of yourself, unselfishly, without restraint.

I spent a morning with tears hiding behind my eyes just threatening to spill. Not upset for myself really, but because Dan, who should've been on the job by 6AM, didn't leave home until after 8. I heard his alarm (apparently he set 6 different ones) through my sleep fog in the living room, but didn't know what time it was or what time he needed to be up. I shrink from the thought that he might be badly thought of, when it's not laziness, but exhaustion that deafens his ears to the systematic alarm tone. Perhaps alarm clock manufacturers should instill a more needy urgency to their wake-up tones. Or maybe we should invest in an old-fashioned clock with reverberating metal bells. My relief is great to find that his client was gracious to him.

Shem (my brother-in-law) is outside, doing double and triple eliminations to determine what is going on with cylinder #5. That's love, too, he would do this for anyone. It's his pastor's heart. And also a love of problem solving, I think. But he is always ready to give of his time. Unfortunately the old Olds is dead. But I know that we will find another car, God always provides. And that is simply more love than I know what to do with.