Thanksgiving Ramblings

Thanksgiving happens to be my favorite holiday.  I love the big family gatherings that have carried over from my childhood when I became Phil's bride.  Thanksgiving has always been a joyous event, lots of hugs and laughter.  So please pardon my grumpiness as Christmas tries to upperhandedly sneak it's way in and steal the limelight.

In true Thanksgiving fashion (and because my current book of study is having me write out what I'm thankful for) here are some of my top thanks outside of the usual friends and family bit.

• For this house that has seen our family double in size
• for a Bible to read God's word and the freedom to do so
• the internet which houses a wealth of information that I can't obtain from the library
• yarn and the fun things to create from it
• the food in my house that never runs out
• homeschooling--a blessed way to be intentional with our children

As I reflect on the second anniversary of our loss of Zara and Caeles I am grateful for this holiday based in thanks to mark their passings.  Grateful that I can smile at their gain instead of cry for my loss.  Grateful that my God has prepared a place for them, and that I will someday be with them again.

Happy thanksgiving my friends.  May your hearts be filled with as much love, gratitude, and contentment as your tummies are with turkey, trimmings, and pie!

Photo Collages

This summer Phil printed off around one hundred of his favorite prints from the last three years and handed me the stack.  I was overwhelmed as to what to do with them, so I stuck them in my desk.  Last week when I started decluttering the desk I found them and decided that I needed to do something with them and not just stick them in another spot.  I decided to divide them and make a collage for each family member.

Miles had the least amount of pictures so I chose to start with his first.  I found a frame that had been sitting empty for years and discovered it was just the right size.  My initial plan was to use scraps of fabric from Grandma's collection, but opted to use the scrapbook paper that I've had since Abi was born.  I was pleased as punch with how it turned out!

I know it's a bit hard to see (the joys of using my phone instead of camera!) but the top in all lower case says Miles Nathanael.  Under Nathanael I had a sticker that says Gift From God, which is the meaning of Nathanael, very fitting I thought.  The left corner says Little Guy and the right says baby boy.  

The black and white photo is the upper left is Miles peeking through a cut out at Focus on the Family's Adventures in Oddessy.  

The middle family shot was taken by a kind stranger by the fountain at Casa Bonita in Denver.  

The upper right is Phil holding Miles when he was a newborn.  

The bottom left was shortly after his birth.  

The bottom right is a peekaboo shot of him in the baby tub, the brown is Wesley's arm as he was getting ready to help wash. 

I spent a bit more time on Miles' collage because I haven't made anything for him since his birth, and with such few pictures I wanted it to look extra special.

I was annoyed that the dollar store didn't have any poster board, but it turned out ok as I was able to use the bottom of a box to mount everything on.

Top Left is a reflection of Wesley (age one) at Pueblo Colorado aquarium portion of the zoo

Next over he is eating a smore while camping this summer

Not sure if you can see Wesley's expression on the family shot with the dinosaur.  That is Dinger the Colorado Rockies mascot.  Wesley was so excited to meet Dinger, but as soon as we got close he started crying, howled during the photo, and then talked non stop about how awesome Dinger was as soon as we walked away.

Top right corner is the one year old picture.  Wesley is sitting in a box of duplo legos.  He was utterly obsessed with them from the time he could crawl until shortly after his first birthday.  He carried a lego all day long, while crawling, nursing, even falling asleep.  I would pry his little fingers open when I went to bed, and for a few months that was the only time he didn't hold a block!

Middle left is a happy baby shot

Pumpkin patch sibling shot.  I don't think he's grown a whole lot since then :)

Middle black and white is a look at Phil's classic style of photography

Family shot showcasing the first skirts that I made for us gals for easter a few years back

Black and white on the right is Wesley's peek a boo shot at Adventures in Oddessy.  We couldn't stop laughing at his expression!

Bottom left is Wesley wearing daddy's cowboy hat as a baby.  

Middle is him trying out Phil's camera with me as the subject

Bottom right is a sibling shot at the pumpkin patch when Wesley was almost 1.5

These were a lot of fun to make and hopefully soon I'll have a part two showcasing the girls'!

Sausage Spinach Rice Casserole

Instead of going grocery shopping last weekend we decided to dwindle the pantry and freezer.  I haven't had the wherewithal to actually take note of everything in those places and come up with a meal plan for the week.  I've just been winging it, and while we had some favorites, last night I came up with something new.  To my surprise it was a hit with the family, even the picky one!  The amounts listed might differ from reality as I was just throwing it together as I went.

Notes:     While this meal was really tasty it was pretty heavy on the rice, so if I made it this way it'd be as a side dish.  For a main dish I would do less rice, more spinach,  and more sausage (per Phil's request).  I had half of a box of fresh spinach from Sams Club that I froze so I'm not sure on the exact amount used.  The peppers were from the garden that Phil had sliced into rings and frozen.  I tossed in one and a half handfuls when wilting the spinach.  The parmesan cheese I just shook into the roux, so it may have been more or less than the cup that I listed.  Oh, and did you know that you can boil rice like you would pasta noodles?  That was a revolutionary kitchen tip for me, and I can now cook palatable rice!

3c rice (uncooked)
1 lb sausage
1 lb spinach
pepperochini peppers
3 tbsp of choice oil
3 tbsp corn starch
3 c milk
1 c parmesan cheese
salt and pepper to taste

1. Cook rice.  
2. Brown sausage 
3. Wilt Spinach and peppers
4. Make Roux
5. Combine all together and eat!

Doesn't get any easier than that my friends.  Let me know what your family thinks if you try it!

Parenting Struggles

Last night felt like a new low as a mom.  We sent Abi to bed at 5:30 with only a piece of bread and glass of water.  The girl had been beside herself in a fit of rage for nearly an hour when we said no more.

It started with being asked to do her regular chores followed by helping Phil rake leaves to prep for the winter.  I could hear from inside the house her yelling at Phil about it not being fair.  We tried the usual suspects to help her calm down to no avail.  By dinner time she was still a complete emotional wreck.  Then she lashed out at Wesley who asked her to quit yelling.  That was the final straw for me, and I asked her to please leave the table.  I was going to just have her leave until she calmed down and then join us, but Phil had had more than enough.  He usually is the one who can reach her and bring her back down to a more amicable state, but she would have none of it.  The verdict was out, off to bed, now, with no radio or dinner.  She was given a piece of bread and a glass of water and allowed to come out of her room twice.  Once for a bathroom break, once to apologize.  She never came out.

Dinner was strained as her fit could be heard through closed doors.  I felt pretty crummy that she chose to be angry and shrug off all of our attempts at gentle reasoning and love.  Phil was exhausted after a hard days work topped off with Abi.  We are no strangers to this kind of raw emotional display from her.  It's been a while since she's had such an awful fit that nothing has worked.  I feel like the only thing we didn't try was to physically hold her down in a warped version of a hug.  At this stage of her life doesn't seem very appropriate.  The ferocity of her feelings reminded me of when she was three and sprawled out on the floor kicking and screaming and turning herself in circles.  Now instead of kicking on the floor she yells out hurtful sayings.

This morning the only prayer I could muster in my sleep deprived frame of mind was 'Father give me the wisdom to parent Abi.'  There was still more anger in her than I would like to have seen in the morning, but what's more disconcerting is to not know why she's so mad.  When I questioned her gingerly this morning I unearthed nothing that would trigger such a response.  My heart is aching for my Abi today knowing she is struggling with such intense feelings swirling around in her little soul.  Her choosing to go at it alone and shut me out grieves me even more.

Fat Melts about as Slow as an Iceberg

January 1st we made our goal for the new years.  Hugely pregnant and missing some good denim I made my goal to be in my skinny jeans by Christmas.  I've always been dedicated to working off the baby weight so this wasn't a lofty goal for me by any means.  I had my plan, wear the girdle for postpartum support (and hopefully help push things back into place) come March and I'd start back to working out.

The strangest thing happened, March came and I wasn't in a big hurry to set Miles down to sweat to a video.  The few times I did he cried and so did I as my ligaments were still too lose and ached painfully.  We did some strolls along the bike path once the weather cooperated but it was by no means cardio.  Then summer was here and I thought we'd start biking all over town like summers past.  The kids were more content to play together and Miles preferred to be held.  Since he's the last baby we're planning for I'm going to hold him as long as he'll let me.

Fall is here and with the threat of snow tomorrow I realized that winter is just around the corner and Miles will be one year old in a little more than two months!  Those skinny jeans aren't going to fit by Christmas since I can't even pull them up over my hips yet.  I held them up today and laughed to think that at one point I wore them and wasn't even comfortable in my own skin.  But another pair of old pants fit.  The largest ones in the box, and that's ok.  So in spite of my lack of vigorous exercise the baby fat is melting away.  Compliments of extended nursing (and perhaps the iodine supplements too).

It is always a marvel to watch my belly grow and swell with life.  It has been just as intriguing (albeit at times frustrating) to watch it morph into its new normal, without any pushing or shoving from me.  A refreshing place to be.

Time is Sand in the Hourglass

This summer was quite a shock to my emotional bearings when Grandma passed.  The reality that my grandparents wouldn't be around forever hit me.  Their presence in my life was something that was always there, it didn't dawn on me that it would be any other way.  Oh sure my siblings and I made guesses over who would go first but it wasn't like we were talking about our grandparents more like what beloved TV show would be cancelled.  Except that I miss my grandma more than Lie to Me or Outsourced.

This revelation has spurred more treks to see my grandpa in the last four months than probably the last five years.  I know that my time with him is slipping away like sand in the hourglass.  I want to savor every moment, play each hand of cards, and get all the hugs I can from that gentle giant of a man who always greets me with a Hello young lady, a nuzzle to the neck embrace with a deep chuckle where I can smell the aftershave on his skin and latest sneaky snack on his breath.

It has been hard to watch Grandpa's health decline, and knowing that Congestive heart failure is like a ticking time bomb I go, and savor.  Last time I tried to drink in the trees in their glorious fall state, the old garden plot where we worked by his side as kids, the smell of his house, and his scent.  Remember this, I told myself, for the seconds on the clock are moving forward faster each time I visit.  I love watching him teach Abi to play Chinese checkers with the same patience that he had with me.  He gives Lizzi and Wesley rides with him in the electric wheelchair.  The 'oh he's so spoiled' with a large grin on his face when Miles doesn't want to leave my arms evokes laughs from us both.

Even though I'm a grown woman, and a mom of nearly nine years, I love how I'm transported back to childhood where I felt like the most beloved grandchild.  Knowing that the final thread of my active childhood is hanging in the balance makes me sad.  Someday all to soon I will say my final goodbyes to Grandpa and that era of my life as well.

Dream or Heavenly Glimpse?

Saturday morning I woke up crying and curious all at the same time.  I had a dream about my grandma.  While it was just a dream, I feel like perhaps it was a glimpse into eternity.

Grandpa, Aunt Connie and I were sitting at the card table chatting and playing Euchre.  All of the sudden I looked up and saw Grandma walking down the hallway using a walker.  I asked Connie if she saw anyone there, to which the reply was no.  I set my cards down and watched Grandma come toward us.  With each step she grew younger, by the time she passed by me the walker was gone.  When she reached her chair she was youthful, slim, unburdened, healthy, and glowing.  Suddenly a squeal of joy rang through the air 'Grandma!' and I saw a little girl around Lizzi's age run up and give her a big hug.  Grandma tilted her head back and laughed heartily and hugged the girl back.

It was at this point that I woke up with tears streaming down my face.  It was amazing to see my grandma at a time and age that I never knew.  I have pondered who the girl is and have wondered if I was allowed to see my little angel baby Zara Amethyst.  Whether it was an amazing dream or a heavenly sneak peek, I wanted to record it here for memory sake.

What do you think, was I just having an amazing dream or was I allowed a glimpse into heaven?

Baby Bird

I fell in love with writing poetry many lifetimes ago in high school.  I love the vivid imagery that succinct lines offer.  I came across this little one that I wrote when Lizzi was a babe and wanted to share it here.  As I read it I'm instantly transported back to her sweet babyhood remembering how she was as a nursling.

  

 Baby bird

     such big blue eyes

    head bobbing

   mouth open

 close

  open

small chirps

and then feeding frenzy.

Baby bird

     such big blue eyes

       snuggle down under my wing

     secure in our warm nest

      rest my sweet little babe.

Lessons from this sweater

See this rockin sweater?  It's the first one that I made for myself.  I learned a lot from making this beau't.  Mistakes will be made, sometimes you can see what effect they have and sometimes you can't. 

Not that I'm a stranger to hard work, but I couldn't believe how long this took me to make.  About six months total.  Of course I don't knit as much in the summer, but I tried because I knew that fall is a very short time and wanted it to be ready.  

After going through my grandmas craft boxes I desired to not have so many unfinished projects in my life.  It was hard at times (especially towards the end) to keep at it, not quit and lay it by the wayside, or start something new that was tickling my fancy.  

In the end, after countless frustrations, mind numbing repetitions, continual pep talks, I have my very own super warm handmade sweater.  With buttons from my grandma's collection as a reminder of her love and life that kept my eye on the finish line.

Change is Good

Tonight a shocker was revealed at the dinner table.  Phil now likes breakfast burritos!  For the course of our marriage (almost 11 years!) he hasn't been able to stomach breakfast burritos due to getting sick off of one in high school.

It was then that the motto change is good ran through my head, and I realized that yes it really is good.  As a person who doesn't like change it has been good to reflect on some of the best happenings in my life because of change.

• a move from Washington state while in first grade to Nebraska landed me across the street from my grandparents.
• a move between two towns in high school allowed me to recreate myself and go from being a wall flower to a practiced extrovert.
• getting pregnant with Abi and moving to a new apartment where I met my lifelong friend Jess, who also helped me be successful in breastfeeding. 
• being a vegetarian for nearly 7 years taught me how to cook, fight fair in marriage, and sensitivity to those with dietary restrictions
• the wonderful new friends I've met with our move to Grand Island wouldn't have happened without change

Even though our move is a few months away, I sometimes feel panicky knowing that another major life change is coming.  I guess I need to dwell on my blessings and what I have to gain instead of the familiar I'm going to lose.  

“Lord, grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.” 
― St. Francis of Assisi

Family Veterans

Today is a day that warms my heart, puffs out my pride, and wets my eye.  All of the patriotic songs that play are a reminder to how much is given by so many.  I am so grateful to those veterans that I personally know.  Both of Phils' grandfathers served in the Korean War.  They don't speak of it often as it is a painful time in their past, but knowing that they left their families to protect and serve our country makes me awed for when they do.

My Dad served in the Navy for nearly nine years.  Three of us first five children were born while he was in the service.  Dad doesn't get to talk much about what he did as it's still all confidential.  When he does I'm glad to get to hear about the pranks they pulled on each other to know that there was still fun and enjoyable moments.

My brother Ken is currently in the Army.  He's been enlisted since Abi was born which means nine years is right around the corner.  Ken's been to deployed Afganistan twice, and Korea for a year.  He is currently in a simulated war scenario so I cannot call him today and thank him for his sacrifice.  When we were kids he was bullied a lot, and I got to stand in the gap for him.  Now he stands in for me in an even larger way, for my continued freedom.

If you have a loved one who has served or is serving for us and our country, please extend my thanks, as I experience firsthand what they have given up for us.

Living with Less

Knowing that the home we're designing is smaller than our current one, I started going through our belongings.  I was aware that we had too many possessions and was annoyed at trying to keep them all tidy and put away.  I wanted to live with less.  There were a few catalysts that helped me start the road toward what some call minimalism.  I prefer the term simple living.

Visiting my aunt last spring who gives so much away and has a sparsely furnished home struck a chord in me.  Her home was so peaceful and serene, I wanted some of that in my home.

Seeing how many boxes my grandma had stashed in her house, and closets stuffed to the brim and how much time and energy my mom and aunt have spent clearing it out was another.

A friend sharing the blog Becoming Minimalist and pictures of tiny homes with all their small but clean spaces really was the final shove I needed.  Reading about how we become so wrapped up in managing our belongings that we spend more time and energy on organizing and maintenance than we do with what is important to us struck a nerve.

I knew that I worked harder at maintaining our home than I did being a mom.  But wait a second, I'm a stay at home mom right?  I realized in that moment that a more accurate title was house manager rather than mother.  And it bothered me.  It bothered me bad.  What if I could spend less time cleaning and more time enjoying these little people God's blessed me with?  Could it be true that if I had less things I would have more time for them?

I was in and ready to find out.  In the last month I've been doing a lot of clearing out the house.  Not just reorganizing closets but actually removing stuff from our lives.  The first few boxes were really easy.  My bookcase collapsed from the load it bore.  Instead of trying to jam all the books back on, I went through and kept out only the ones I knew I would like to read again someday.  The rest went to the library.  Taking out the clothes that haven't fit for a few seasons was easy, and I was able to bless a friend who needed them.  The kids let me go through their closets too as they were overwhelmed with too many choices.  Amazingly Phil even let me go through his closet and get it cleaned up.  I took out two trash bags worth of clothes and he hasn't mentioned it once about missing anything.

The family was up for the next level of the experiment, only enough dishes for 8.  Previously the arrangement was the dishes would pile up from three meals during the day, Phil would load the dishwasher at night and Abi would empty it the next day.  Abi complained almost daily about the task, and sometimes Phil wouldn't be able to load it.  This would leave me with the unpleasant task of either dealing with the mess while waiting for him to get around to it or loading the dishwasher myself.  We were all skeptical about how it would go, having to hand wash the dishes after each meal.  I figured we'd last a week at the most.  It's been a month.  The kids haven't grumbled about needing to wash their dish after each meal, and I don't mind the by product of having a clean kitchen all the time.  We have only used the dishwasher once in the last month and that was last weekend.   Phil was willing to try it for a month.  He hasn't mentioned anything about it and I'm not going to remind him!

Last week I went through my closet again.  I had read a challenge to only have 33 items of clothing  (read about it here: http://theproject333.com/).  The premise is to only have the things that you love hanging in your closet.  I ended up with 40 items in my closet that I love, two of which I'm still not convinced to keep but wasn't ready to part quite yet.  It's been refreshing to just pull the next shirt and sweater out of the closet without wondering about whether I'll like my outfit and if it looks good on me or not.  If you think that 40 items sounds like a lot, I challenge you to pull everything from your closet and only put back 40 just to see what it looks like.  You don't have to give away the extras, you can tuck them away in the spare bedroom closet and bring them back if you miss anything.

I've been making meals more simple too.  I used to love to come up with all sorts of fancy dishes.  Perhaps again someday I will.  For now though, I relish that making meals is quick and easy and doesn't dirty every bowl and pan I own.  I know that the kids appreciate me not being in the kitchen as much because it lends to more time to play a game before daddy comes home from work.  Miles has higher needs for me during dinner making time, so it's nice to meet his needs instead of putting him off, or sticking him in the highchair.

I know that it's only been a month into the experiment, but I'm liking what I'm seeing thus far.  My counters are clean (even conquered my nemesis the island this week!), and my floor is less littered with toys.  Pickup can be done in five minutes which we try and get done before Phil walks in the door.  I love how I'm feeling too.  Not so tired and exhausted in the evening.  I start my day with confidence, no need to glance in the mirror and wonder about my outfit.  I am refreshed walking out to our great room, no clutter, no dirty dishes, just clean spaces.  It's the same feeling I get when I see a magazine cover, but I'm living in it.  More time with the kids too, we're playing more, reading more, being together more.  During that time with them, I'm not thinking about the next cleaning need, I'm there.  And that's right where I want to be.

Oceans

Have you heard this song yet?  It's called Oceans by Hillsong United.  It is a song that is moving me deeply this week.  If you've got ten minutes to sit and listen please do, it's amazing!

Saturday I woke up feeling tired, worn down and burned out.  I thought it would be wise to tell Phil right off the bat so he would know and could help me get to a better place.  Not realizing that he wasn't feeling to swell either, I got grumped at.  Given my state of mood, I took deep offense and went into my safeguard of being passive aggressive.  Every little thing he did I saw negatively, and we just fed off of each other.  I went to bed that night feeling worse than I had when I woke up.

Sunday I was hopeful would be better.  Thankfully I had gotten a better night sleep, and I could at least see that Phil wasn't doing so swimmingly.  Sunday mornings are usually fraught with  troubles, and it is all we can do to make it to church with everyone alive, unbeaten, fed and dressed.  I, however was still mad at Phil, and everything he did just annoyed me greater.  Then this song was played, and it started working on me.

I love how the Spirit just whispers my faults out to me.  Sometimes I need the 2x4 to the head moments, but generally a whisper will catch my attention.  He said I'm taking you deeper.  I didn't really get the meaning of that and just continued on my (not so) merry way.  After lunch my friend Heidi called, I had forgotten my leftovers at her place.  Normally I would just swing by in the late afternoon, but that day I welcomed the opportunity to escape.  After blahing all over her (so thankful for a friend who can handle my raving!) and chilling for more than the appropriate 'be back in a bit' timeline I gave my family, I headed back.  Again the Spirit whispered to me 'I wish you would talk to me like you do with Heidi'.  Guilty as charged.  I'm notorious for laying out my thanks and helps before the Father but rarely do I go deeper than that.  Myriads of reasons, but none hold any merit.

'God, you've got to give me your strength and love because I've got none to offer to that man I married'.  I walked in the door and Phil says welcome back but without a smile on his face.  Still wounded I sarcastically shoot back to 'not be so welcoming or I might just want to stay'.  Again grabbed by the Spirit to love that man I came back into the room telling him that I thought he was mad by the look on his face.  Phil apologized that his face didn't relay what his words and intentions were.  A sorely needed balm to my soul right there those words were.

I'm not sure when, but sometime within the next day I heard on the radio that marriage is not intended to be what you get out of it, but what you give to your spouse.  Aaaand there's the 2x4 moment.  This relationship isn't about him cooking for me, picking up his socks (but that would be nice!), or being my prince charming.  Sure those are all lovely and noble attributes and I love when he loves me, but that's not the point of marriage.  I am to be Phil's helpmeet and God is to be my everything.  I need to follow the example of Christ and love my man even through our unloveable moments.

I really wish that there was a way to impress upon this surface the depth and feeling of the emotions that have surrounded this story.  The song still speaks deeply to me and is charged with a message of more oceans to come.  I have only started swimming.

Land Saga

It has been brought to my attention that I haven't written about our land.  Not sure how that slipped through my fingers as it's story is quite large in our lives!

For a few years now, our family has shared the dream to buy a little farm and live as much off of the land as possible.  For a long time it was just talk, and dreams, and more talk.  Then we started looking.  Checking landwatch.org, realtor.com, even craigslistings.  Not finding anything that was remotely in our price range I wondered if I was missing something.  I contacted my friend who designs homes for her husbands construction business.  I found out that I was doing it right, but when I mentioned our price range she told me that they had a little piece of land that fit my description and she'd talk to her husband about selling it to us.

We met up with them and their land, and were pretty excited, it was just what we were looking for.  The initial offer was a bit more than we liked but considering it was on the edge of town it was worth pursuing.  Then just as quickly as it started it was over.  They had second thoughts and decided that they weren't ready to part with the land.  I was bummed, but it just renewed our resolve to keep looking.

A few months later for our tenth anniversary, Phil gave me a picture of a farm painting that we had seen at an art museum in Kansas City.  On the back he had written 'may all our dreams come true'.  I insisted that he hang it over our bed to inspire us to not give up as we were starting to think that perhaps this would be more of a later in life opportunity.

Fast forward a half a year, with the garden in full swing I was checking quite frequently for land as the dream was burning bright.  I saw a craigslisting--five acres for $28,000 12 miles from Grand Island--probably a scam but just in case not I quickly sent a message to Phil in the off chance that it was valid.  He returned from camp the next day and promptly went out to investigate the acreage as the owner happened to be available.  I was impressed that the gal was home (July 3) and willing to show someone around.  The report was a bit dismal.  A hayfield.  No trees.  No house.  No well.  Nothing.  Just a hayfield the owner wanted to sell to finance her daughter's college classes.

I wasn't really that interested, after all my dreams included lots of mature shade trees for me to sit under and watch the kids play.  Besides we couldn't afford to build a house!  Not on a one income household.  With that one income being teachers' wages.  Phil was insistent that we could.  He also said that there are always compromises in real estate.  According to Phil our dreams were like a triangle there were the points of location, price, land.  We couldn't get them all in our price range and to get two out of three was a good deal.

Phil spoke with some realtors and found out that this was an amazing price for land, even if it was completely undeveloped.  Then Phil started wooing me over to the idea.  We could build a home inside a quoncet.  If we do most of the work ourselves, we can make it work with our budget.  Being the visual learner I am, Phil got to work on a home designing program and drew up our dream home.  Then he did the layout for the land.  At first it drove him bonkers to have zero parameters to work with as a hayfield is a complete blank slate.  Now he really appreciates the fact that we get to design everything the way we want it to be.  Where the orchards will go.  The berry patches, vineyards, garden, chickens, maybe even a cow and pig.  A blank slate is as exciting as it is exhausting.  You can run yourself ragged with ideas we have learned.

It was slightly terrifying signing all the papers that go along with buying real estate.  It didn't seem quite real that we are owners of five acres until the first mortgage payment hit.  I'm sure that Dave Ramsey would cringe to know that we now make two mortgage payments, but as Phil put it sometimes you have to stretch yourself for your dreams and take that leap of faith.  Our faith has been tested, but that story is for another day.

So what's the plan now you ask?  Right now we are slowly working at fixing all those little things that need to happen before selling a home.  We're hoping to be ready by early springtime to put it up on the market.  We'll move in with Phil's mom for a few months (good thing we all love each other so much or this would never work!) while pre-construction things are happening like the driveway being put in, a well and septic dug, power lines brought in, and a foundation poured.  We figure by then it will be summer and we will start building our little dream home.  The goal is to be done and ready by the end of next summer, which we realize might be a bit lofty but we've got to have something to shoot for!

There you have it, the beginning saga of a girl who leads a slow paced life and doesn't like changes is willingly embarking upon a journey that will most assuredly change her life.

A Story Worth Telling

I had kind of given up on this blog.  I was done, tired of trying to find things to write about.  Things that I thought others would find interesting.  I even told some of my closest friends that I was over it.

 But I guess I'm not.

I have loved writing for as long as I can remember (well not the whole process that us teachers make it out to be in school...), especially when it is putting pencil to paper.  It's such a tactile experience, the smell of lead, the scratch of the pencil on the paper, the feel of it as your hand slowly glides across.  The view of words sprawling out in lines to fill the page.  Blogging just isn't the same, but since I have no idea how to upload my scribbles into viewable fashion typing will just have to do for now.

See, I've been encouraged that I have plenty to write about.  Phil has said it to me when I've complained that I don't have anything--you have much to tell, you just edit too much--or something along those lines.  Jackie my pastors wife has been prompting people to tell their story, that there is someone who needs to hear it.  Friends have told me how inspired and encouraged they when reading my blog.  Even the devotional I read with the kids (which hits me harder than my own most days, funny how He does that eh?) has been themed with discovering your talents and sharing them with the world.  The final straw came from this new blog that I've been loving to read.  Joshua Becker from Becoming Minimalist said about journaling is to "recognize our need.  Your story is important and is meant to be shared.  It may be unique to you, but we desperately need to read it.  Make sure we can."

Yup, ok, kick in the pants noted.

So while I'd rather be quietly knitting pretending that I have nothing to offer the world outside my four walls I've been prompted to write.  I've got a story worth telling, and it's mine.  It may seem dull and redundant to others, but it is the life I lead.  It is the life that I have chosen, and while there are times that I would love to be anywhere other than where I'm at (who doesn't?), I can't ever decide where that would be.

Today's story snippets go like this:

1. I amazed my Abi at breakfast today by having leftover soup instead of eggs and toast.  She doesn't think that eggs and toast count as breakfast since I usually have that six out of seven days of the week.
2. I witnessed the triumphant look on Lizzi's face as she read from one of her little primer books with minimal assistance.
3. I heard Wesley ask me to 'pray for our food' and 'let's eat to-ge-dur mom'
4. I could barely hold Miles as he wiggled a dance during our school music time

And since I hate ending and endings--until the next time--Adieu!