Grapes, anyone?

The Day After Thanksgiving

The girls and I spent four hours at the Maryland Zoo. It would have been longer if I hadn't been so COLD! (They, of course, were fine.) One entire hour was spent at the giant tree slide. What is it about being outside that is so incredibly GOOD?

Perhaps John Muir has a finger on it: "Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."

(Quote found in a lovely little picture book from Muir Woods in CA that my mom got me on our trip this past summer, "Muir Woods Meditations.")

Thanksgiving

It wouldn't have happened without my in-laws. I'd planned, weeks ago, my get-the-house-ready and pre-for-the-meal plans. Then Alan wrenched his knee.

The plans fell by the wayside in light of doctors' visits and having to be a gig chauffeur. But you know what? I was ok. Alan and I had some good laughs through it.

And when my in-laws asked if they could drop everything to come early and help, I said, "YES!!" I didn't care that bathrooms were not clean, beds were not stripped, washer and dryer were lost beneath a mountain of laundry. I didn't care that the shopping had not been done. I felt relieved. THANKFUL.

My mother-in-law was my "voice of reason" through the whole holiday. Because of her, we used pretty paper plates instead of my traditional Depression Glass. (Our dishwasher must be in league with Alan's knee. They both went kaput around the same time.) We started using paper plates as soon as they arrived. She was the warrior maiden of the kitchen, keeping up with the constant heave-ho of preparation and the meals that had to happen in the midst. She talked me out of baking a pie, and said Becky's one pumpkin pie would be enough. She was right. There were leftovers.

We usually hike on Thanksgiving and Christmas. Instead, we headed to Calvary Lutheran Church, where Amelia goes to pre-school. Amelia was singing in the children's choir, and the church spontaneously invited Evelyn to sing, too. Evelyn got to stand next to her boyfriend from last year, Isaiah, and I think she's still got air between her shoes and the ground. It was lovely to worship together, and the theme was "The Secret of Contentment." The message had TONS of Scripture, and the line that still rings in my ears from the gentle pastor's sermon, "What is the secret of contentment? Being close to Christ." Whew. I needed that.

Mom and Dad Blackman helped see me through as the preparations gradually picked up speed and flew out from under us. But the meal always gets onto the table, and it was GOOD:

1. Snubbing tradition, we traded turkey for pork tenderloin & cooked it two ways: a spicy rub & a rosemary/garlic/olive oil marinade. YUM.
2. Becky mashed the potatoes, done traditionally by hand w/lots of butter, cream, salt & pepper.
3. A carrot & grape side dish I got off the Pioneer Woman website that might have been yummier if I'd used baby carrots (that's what the recipe called for) instead of the gigantic, kinda sour, tasteless ones in my frig.
4. An AWESOME salad I've dubbed "Jen's Kathy's Salad" because Jen brought it from NZ by way of Kathy.
5. Homemade French Bread that was fun to make w/the girls but would have benefited from Bread Flour. "All-purpose" should really not be on that label.
6. Matt's mom made cranberry relish. Yum. I loved it on the pork!
7. The Blackman family traditions: sweet potato casserole (Becky), and Mom Blackman's ham biscuits, sausage balls, and Chex Mix.
8. The aforementioned pumpkin pie that Becky brought, compliments of Marie Callender. Topped with Cool-Whip, it was quite fine.

After dinner, Shelley and I took the three kids on a walk while my in-laws cleaned the kitchen and Alan, Becky, and Matt watched football. We were grateful for Esther's presence (Evelyn loved the hairdo she gave her) and for the time together. I was so glad that the whole thing could happen, and that we could all fellowship together once again.

Regrets? Yes--I have no pictures of all of us. But I don't think my mom is ever thinking of taking pictures while she's in the kitchen cooking a holiday meal, either. :)

Get ready to cringe!

I begin with an apology for the accompanying picture. I will also say right now that, while I do slack off shaving in the colder months, these are ALAN'S legs.

"What did he DO?!?" you ask. The best metaphor is this: imagine getting a tiny tear in your jeans, hardly noticeable. You wear the jeans for months, maybe years with that small tear or frayed spot. Then, one day, doing nothing out of the ordinary, you bend over to tie your shoe and the whole backside of your pants rips apart.

That's probably what happened to his knee. He's in a lot of pain, and in the past week has been to Patient First, an orthopedist, and has had an MRI. The orthopedist will read the MRI on Tuesday to give us the full scoop: how big the tear is, where exactly it is, and what kind of surgery (and when) to expect.

Until then? Well, let's just say Alan will be doing all his holiday shopping on line from the comfort of our living room couch. :) We've had some good laughs in spite of it, and when my in-laws heard what happened they jumped in their car and came to our rescue on Tuesday. We'd planned on hosting the Blackmans for Thanksgiving, and their help in cooking, cleaning, child care, and good, old-fashioned common sense (my mother-in-law encouraged me more than once to strike things from the "to do" list to save my sanity--and she was right!), made that possible. Alan had a gig Wednesday night, which he was able to do w/me as the chauffeur and roadie, and it was actually a nice, relaxing evening which my in-laws made possible.

So now I'm going to go to bed (after I've looked at that knee again and said "eeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww!" one more time!)

The View From Our Front Door

Sometimes, it's not my circumstances that need changing. (The parking lot across the street from our house.)















It's my perspective. (The brilliant sunset happening exactly above it Sunday night. Pictures taken just seconds apart in time---miles apart in attitude.)

The Nala Walk

For a long time, when we'd go to the Walshes' house for Hamiltopia, Amelia would run upstairs to Maddie's room to play with a certain stuffed animal. It was once a tiger before its stripes were loved away. (Velveteen Rabbit, anyone?) Amelia LOVED that tiger. But she knew it was very special to Maddie, and she always had to ask permission to play with it.

Well, when Amelia turned 4 in May, Maddie gave her the ultimate gift--the treasured tiger. Amelia named it "Nala" and it continues to hold a special position. Yesterday Amelia & I went on a neighborhood walk, and she wanted to push Nala in the stroller. It couldn't have been more perfect. A late afternoon sun, a chill in the air, and my beautiful daughter reveling in her love for this very special stuffed animal. Thank you, Maddie, for giving a true gift--something of your own that you treasured that you willingly gave up because you knew how much it would mean to someone else.

I wish I was better at expressing how precious this is, and how it offers little flickers of light on our heavenly Father--sacrificial giving, unconditional love for something the world might consider worn and replaceable. Instead I'll just leave it at that. Nala is special to me, too, for a lot of reasons. :)

One Hat

I'm taking pictures of my classroom and instruments at Battle Monument School as communication aids for my students, and figured I'd put a couple here. Battle Monument Music Teacher is a hat I've been wearing for (gulp) over 20 years. Teaching there is so outside-the-box, and all my students are outside-the-box, too. They continually humble me, astound me, make me laugh, and keep me on my toes.

Yesterday in one of my classes we were practicing playing a pattern of 1-2-3-rest on various instruments to Queen's "We Will Rock You" (I'm a closet fan.) It was the third time in the past month this class had done this activity, and the hope was of course, that the students would "get it." Well, J GOT IT. He has autism and is usually completely absorbed in rolling the hem of his shirt. Finding anything that distracts him from this is very difficult, and requiring him to do anything else usually frustrates him.

But yesterday, he GOT IT. He started playing the 1-2-3-rest pattern--then he started smiling--then he started LAUGHING--and he did it through the entire song, forgetting entirely about his hem. As the song progressed, you could just feel the excitement in the room--all four staff members AND the principal (who'd popped in--I LOVE principals who pop in)--were holding their breath to see if J would last to the end of the song.

He did. And you'd have thought we'd won the Super Bowl. The room erupted in applause, and everyone jumped out of their seats, embraced one another, high-fived, and wept. And J just kept on smiling.

What a great hat to wear two days a week. :)

Memorable Moments

This Sunday during Breaking of Bread, Evelyn was her usual up-and-down self. I'm used to it by now--the constant shifting around, frequent dives into the bag of tricks packed with coloring supplies and small toys, the dropping of small toys into the row behind (an interesting study could be made comparing churchgoers who return the toys and those who ignore them), the requests to use the bathroom or get a drink, the determination to rip pages out of the coloring books to give as gifts to people (the ripping of a coloring book page is remarkably LOUD!), etc.

During one of her dives, she began rummaging through my purse. I heard what sounded like a wrapper and figured she'd found a cough drop. I was turned away from her, looking at the man who was sharing at the time. Then I heard her whisper loudly, "Mommy, what's THIS?" and turned to find her with her arm extended in the air, holding...a tampon.

Today I struggled...

...as a parent. This is something I'd like to practice. It goes with one of my favorite verses in the Psalms, "Your gentleness makes me great." (Psalm 18:35)

I'm pretty sure I didn't make anyone great today. But at least God is still gentle, and they're ultimately in HIS hands.

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." (Lamentations 3:22-23)

Here's to a new morning! :)

Sometimes...

...life is a bit like Amelia's hair. Crazy, hard to get all the tangles out of, but still really beautiful. :)

(And I'm always entertained by the pictures the girls take, even though they're not really supposed to handle the camera. They do a really good job of capturing the haphazard joys of life so much better than I do.)

Lovin' the 'hood: Part 3

Hamilton has culture! One example is the newly-formed Hamilton Community Women's Ensemble, which I joined this fall. I've enjoyed rehearsing some lovely Christmas music with these ladies for an hour and a half on Monday evenings. It's a bonus that I can walk to the rehearsals, and it just feels so good to SING!

Anyway, Hamilton Presbyterian is the church that sponsors the ensemble, and also hosts a little concert series. Tonight I took the girls to hear a lady sing a program of Broadway musical numbers. The girls were SO good (even though they asked if it was over each time they heard applause), and it felt kind of nice to be doing something like that right in our neighborhood.

About half way through, Evelyn looked up, eyes wide, and pointed as she whispered, "Mommy! That lady's voice is so pretty, it's putting that man to sleep!"

Well, I've seen people fall asleep downtown at Meyerhoff Symphony Hall to the lovely sounds of the BSO, too. :)

Great Seasonal Recipe #1: Black Bean & Sweet Potato Burritos

3 cups sweet potatoes, peeled and diced
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 sweet red or green pepper, chopped (optional)
2 cups swiss chard, chopped, stems removed (also optional--save the stems for soups or stir fry)
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
1T cumin (or more, if you like)
1/2 t ground cinnamon
1/2 t ground mace
salt & pepper to taste
shredded cheddar
8 flour tortillas

Saute first 5 ingredients in 1 or 2 tablespoons of olive oil until they're just tender. (Add a little water or apple juice to keep it from sticking.) Add the black beans and spices and heat through. Spray a large baking dish w/non-stick spray, then roll up some bean/veggie saute and some cheese into each tortilla & bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes. Cover the pan w/foil if you like your burritos soft, leave uncovered if you like the tortillas to have a slight crunch.

(Recipe courtesy of Simply in Season: Recipes that celebrate fresh, local foods in the spirit of More-with-Less, by Mary Beth Lind and Cathleen Hockman-Wert.)

Diversity of Gratitude

I'm glad the girls can balance one another's personalities. Where one is extroverted, the other is shy, and where one is overwhelming, the other is muted. And you might not always know which is going to be which.

The new thing around here is, instead of simply praying for a meal, to improvise a totally original Thank You Song. Watch Evelyn's, then Amelia's. That's the order in which they were sung, and definitely strikes that aforementioned balance.

Road Rage

On Tuesday Evelyn was off school, and she & I headed to hike at Gunpowder Falls State Park. En route, a 20-something maniac nearly clipped my bumper swerving in and out of traffic. I told Evelyn we were going to pull over and pray that he would get safely to his destination. No, unfortunately, that is NOT what I did.

I slammed on my horn and yelled, "What's with THAT, dude?!?" He, of course, would not make eye contact w/me at the light (he'd gotten there SO much faster than we had. Ha ha), and since he was in the far right lane & I was two lanes over turning left, I thought the whole thing was over.

Then, when the light turned green, he peeled out and turned LEFT from the RIGHT hand lane!! Now here's where I'm REALLY not proud of myself (and I admit, Alan will find out about this reading the blog. Ugh. I am so not proud of this.) I peeled wheels and CUT HIM OFF, nearly clipping HIS bumper in the process. My heart was pumping.

And then I realized what an idiot I'd been (the realization was aided by my six-year old, who was yelling from the back seat as she rolled from side to side w/my swerves, "What's going on, Mom?!?") I confessed to Evelyn that what I'd just done was wrong. What the Lord really wanted us to do was to forgive people who wrong us, and to NOT wrong them back. Her response? "Mom, what you SHOULD have done was pull up next to him, smile at him and say, 'I forgive you!'"

An evil, wicked grin spread across my face imagining that. "Yes, Evelyn," I replied sweetly, "That's EXACTLY what I should have done."

p.s. Our hike at Gunpowder was deliriously wonderful, in spite of the rocky road getting there and the fact that I forgot the camera.

Our two daughters...

...are very different from one another. As seen by the juxtaposition of their artwork.

Evelyn, the idealistic realist whose lovely house is symmetrically girded about with flowers, clouds, blue skies, and birds.

And Amelia, who prefers to express herself a bit more abstractly.

Of course, I could stare at them both all day. I think they ooze beauty, creativity, and personality. Hence they are the current exhibit in our proud gallery--via scotch tape on the kitchen wall.

Books!

I am reading again! It is wonderful! Right now I am finishing Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, which is a chronicle of her family's year of living off their own land. Why does this sort of thing fascinate me?!?

I also read Into the Wild, the account of that twenty-something college grad who went "off the grid" in the 90's with hopes of living off the land in Alaska and ended up dead in an old bus. (Don't worry--you know this right from the get-go if you've not read the book.) Again--fascinating. We rented the movie on Netflix.

Before that, it was West with the Night, Beryl Markham's story of growing up on a farm in Kenya in the early 1900's and becoming one of the first women bush pilots. Wow!! (Mom scored me that one in a Goodwill this summer when we went on a shopping spree the day of her surprise b-day party.)

Of course, I can always re-read any of my Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries by Dorothy Sayers. Jen and I used to laugh when we were roommates about having crushes on Lord Peter. I'm not sure there is a modern equivalent of him. (Sayers wrote in the 1920's and 30's.) Besides, if there WERE, he wouldn't hold a candle to Alan. Lord Peter only plays classical piano and cannot ride a mountain bike. Besides, he wears a monocle. Not sure I could get used to looking across the dinner table at a guy wearing a monocle.

I also re-read a book my mother-in-law gave me years ago that is a pretty fascinating story set in the California Gold Rush that is based on the book of Hosea: Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. I'd read it first while recuperating after our first miscarriage, and it amazed me how I cried at totally different places in the story this time around. Alan liked to tease me about the romance-novel cover, but this book has a lot more depth than the cover conveys.

What's next? I've been wanting to read Richard Llewellyn's How Green Was My Valley, which came recommended by Kathy in New Zealand. (Kathy inspired me to read all Jane Austen's novels years ago--I think she decided to have a "summer of the classics" or something like that. I still love Jane Austen.) And it was either Kathy or Jen who started a bunch of friends reading The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series by Scottish author Alexander McCall Smith. They all take place in Botswana, and Jen gave me the whole series when she moved to New Zealand. Well, all but the FIRST one. (It disappeared after being loaned, as books & CDs will do.) And since I don't have a great track record with library books, I've held off, hoping a copy will jump out at me at a thrift store.

I've also got a whole list of books Aunt Betty suggested--books about and/or by spunky women. My favorite of her suggestions is Recollections of a Handcart Pioneer of 1860: A Woman's Life on the Mormon Frontier, by May Ann Hafen. This woman pulled her own cart from Iowa to Salt Lake City because she was too poor to own oxen. My favorite part of Aunt Betty's suggestion is that she gave me credit for being the only person she knows who might ever attempt something like that. That totally flatters me! But if my attempt at 40 miles of the Appalachian Trail was any indication, Aunt Betty gives me WAY too much credit.

Feel free to suggest titles! I've given up TV (finally!!) and can now read a bit before bed (when not watching movies like Waking Ned Devine with my husband, who is definitely more worthy of a crush than a fictional, British amateur detective who wears a monocle!)