His Race

That's my boy leading the pack!
In his first season of track he has... shown courage, worked diligently, pushed himself, endured, never complained, started well, finished well, enjoyed shining moments with humility, faced disappointments with grace, displayed admirable sportsmanship, and found pleasure in the race. My prayer is that he will always run with perseverance the race marked out for him. I am proud of him.

Hide and Seek

{After lunch.}

Hello Monday

{7:50 a.m.}

Good Morning, Friday

Oh, how life has been full this week! I feel like shouting from the rooftop, "Good morning, Friday!"
If you peak out our big living room window into the backyard you'll see grass. It's rather sparse and I'm sure it will be dead by mid-July, but for now we have a bit of a lawn. It makes me happy. When I sit on the couch early in the morning to do my reading I love to look out and see all the green... green leaves, green grass, a veil of green... I am a green girl to be sure, always have been. Sister, who has been feverish this week, joined me early, early one morning, long before the boys were awake. We wrapped up together in a blanket and read Peter Rabbit, and looked out at the green.
Have you tried Magical Breakfast Cream? It's my new favorite breakfast discovery. I found the recipe in The French Women Don't Get Fat Cookbook by Mireille Guiliano. It's lovely and luscious. I've been eating it for breakfast all week; I use plain Greek yogurt and top it with strawberries. Delightful.
The boys are counting down the days until the end of school. So am I! Two weeks to go. Right now life is a flurry of school work and field trips and track and end-of-the-year events. It's been a little exhausting and overwhelming. Every morning I have to give a pep talk to myself and to the boys, "Let's finish strong... Keep going... We're almost there."
Speaking of overwhelming, while I was at the zoo with Little Brother's class the professor tore out all the ceilings on the lowest level of the house. It was a mess. It still is, kind of, but for good cause... first, a new HVAC system and then renovations to follow.
Our roses are in bloom. They grow in the side yard between the driveway and the edge of our little wooded place. I love seeing their bright elegance against the wild tangled green of the woods. The woods don't actually belong to us but we claim them for now. I expect one day the owner will clear some of them away to build a house on the crest of the hill. Until then, it's our little wooded place.
The last two times we've ridden our bikes down the hill to the park we've watched a Great Blue Heron take off in flight from the shore of the little lake. Breathtaking. Refined beauty is lovely but wild beauty... oh, how it declares the glory of God! It's true, what dear Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote:
Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes; The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.
Oh, that I may have eyes to see heaven and grace and Him! And a heart compelled to worship.
When I saw Fever Girl's bright eyes and big smile I knew she was feeling better. Her morning hair made me smile. This weekend look for Him in the common and when you find Him, take off your shoes.
Good morning, Friday. Good morning indeed! 

Lily Looking In

It's a strange thing to be loved by a cat having never actually loved a cat myself. Our neighbors may have chosen her and adopted her and named her Lily, but Lily chose us {and our patio}, and so now we're the adopted ones. Thankfully the neighbors don't mind. Most of the time we call her RC, short for Rosemary Calvin. Sometimes we call her Lily. She's always around, always looking in. Our patio cat.

New

And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”

And He said, “Write, for these words are faithful and true.”

Revelation 21:5

Celebrating the April Birthdays

My sister-in-law brought her own birthday cake, direct from Sugaree's. Swoon. Little Brother added the camellia. Perfect. I picked up the orchid for the professor's mother, but almost kept it for myself.

At Home

When my family came in November to celebrate Thanksgiving, my sister commented, "I like your dirt yard." Our backyard is a lush, shady, enchanting place. We love it. But there is no grass. A dirt yard, indeed, with a few scrubby weeds. The professor bought a bag of grass seed and spread it. We're running the sprinklers with the hope that we'll have a bit of lawn this spring and summer.

And I bake bread these days. Bread to eat, bread to give. Lots of bread. And Sister and I enjoy our daytime meals at the kitchen table in front of the big window. And the cat... always the cat. Big Brother loves her so. We made post-Easter Easter eggs that make me happy. We used tea bags instead of onion skins. Then I turned them into egg salad and ate them up. Little Brother is reading his first chapter book. Aloud. To me. He has the sweetest voice and reads with delightful expression. When we're not at home we're at track because Big Brother is a runner. While he runs, the other two run wild. It's good for all of them. Fresh spring air in and energy out! The bees buzz in the azaleas constantly and my violet orchid just keeps blooming. She's a total show-off.

We make our share of messes; sometimes more than our share. {The professor is in the process of tearing out the downstairs ceilings. Dust! And the Legos. Always the Legos!} And we have our grumpy moods. But, being at home is still my favorite place to be. It's lovely and I'm thankful.

Cherished Grace

Our spring has been fickle this year. I suppose she's fickle every year although I tend to forget her teasing ways... sunny and warm one day, damp and cold the next. My little world is painted with bright green and flowers. The hummingbirds have returned, we watch them from the living room window, and our little patch of woods is alive with birds. I walked there the other day. The dogwoods in bloom always remind me of white eyelet petticoats. "If I get married in the summer," I used to say, "my wedding dress will be made of white eyelet lace." I love eyelet. The cherry trees are in bloom, all rosy pink, and the woodland phlox spilling color over our little garden rock walls makes me smile.
It's Saturday afternoon, I tell Sister, "We're going to a baby shower." As I put her shoes on her she says, "I will watch the babies take a shower." She makes me smile, and so does Little Brother who wants to come for the cake. He has a sweet tooth.
We go to the baby shower. The expectant mother is from Cameroon, and her life, I know it's not easy. She works hard in a country far from home while her husband is in school out of state. We celebrate the baby girl she carries in her womb; one whom I think she's waited for longer than I've been a mother. She cherishes each flowered dress, each pink blanket, and each tiny sock with such genuine, overflowing delight. And, she cherishes each giver with deep appreciation.
I watch her lift holy hands in worship on Sunday morning. It's easy to see... she recognizes God's grace in her less than easy life, and she cherishes it, and she cherishes the Giver. And shouldn't they be cherished? Cherished grace is grace savored, cherished grace is grace worth extending, and most importantly, cherished grace commands a worshipful response to the gracious Giver. 
At the baby shower I ask her, "Does your baby girl have a name?" She flashes a big, sparkly smile at me. "Yes," she replies in her beautiful French accent, "her name is Cherish." My heart melts. What name could be more fitting? She is experiencing His grace and she cherishes it, and she cherishes Him who gives it.

Birthday Morning

Be them terrific or terrible {we've had some of both}, Sister decided to finish her year of two's with a bang. The eve of her third birthday went like this...
I put her down for an afternoon nap but she didn't sleep. Typical. By late afternoon she was exhausted. Of course. Big Brother had an evening track practice which meant dinner was later than usual. As I scrambled to reheat Easter lunch leftovers and make macaroni and cheese, Sister and Little Brother began to squabble over a kitchen chair. She tumbled from the coveted chair, becoming so upset she forgot to breathe and passed out. {She passes out easily when she's upset. She always has. Our pediatrician says not to worry. It's always a bit scary.} She "came to" a few moments later and the crying resumed. She passed out again. Pale, tear stained, hungry, exhausted, and pitiful, we fed her boxed macaroni and cheese for dinner, whisked her off to the bath, and tucked her into bed where she slept soundly until almost 9:00 the next morning. By the time she emerged on her birthday morning the men had already left for the day; it was just my girl and me and a hot pink tutu. In that sunshiny, well-rested moment being three, instead of two, suddenly felt really, really good.
So, here's to three with all the delight {and drama} that it's sure to bring!