All good gifts

Monday morning. School begins again. The baby is crying. The rabbit escaped. Sent hubby off. Dust bunnies everywhere. A deck of cards, spilled. Clothes to put away.

AND YET.

The baby got fed. School got done in RECORD time, with record smiles. Baby got fed. I caught the bunny (both living and dust). 52 pick up is a fun game for a not-quite-two year old. Clothes to put away means clean clothes to wear. And absence makes the heart grow fonder.

It's all in how you look at things.

Looking at the otherside of the coin today, revolting against my natural inclination.

There is SO much good.

(If I can muster nothing else for the week, I am glad for this time of blogging especially. A wonderful summary of my very blessed weeks, each and every one.)

• 

• an afternoon at Newman park, a.k.a our yard
• long grass
• bake-able clay
• prodigal rabbits
  

• three loads washed and dried in a blissfully sunny day
• Grandpa-made maple syrup
• school mornings that fly by
• king size blankets on queen size beds
• bedhead this cute

• matched socks
• freshly vacuumed carpets
• hot water, cold water. RUNNING water.
  
• kerchiefs holding back wisps

• the first frost~ the ending of garden chores
• caramel apple dip
• brothers

• cows that HAVEN'T gotten out
• 10 more (and younger!) chickens, for FREE!

• basking in the sunshine
• holding Matt's hand during church
• a babywrap that can get a baby to sleep in about 5.3 seconds flat
• baby burps, when they actually come. (I can't burp a baby for the life of me.)

• Matt saying "Can I hold you?" in the deep hush of darkness
• barn windows lit in the darkness of morning~ a man doing chores
• big tarps

• another layer for the lasagna garden
• eskimo kisses
• creamy zucchini soup on a chilly evening

• the sparkle of my ring; 8 years later I still steal glances
• book sales
• clothing cast-offs
• a truckbed of leaves to play in

• wooden spool garland lining the office
• Modest Mussorgsky during dinner
• Watching Corynn and Andrew dance together~they do it better than Matt and I
• turqouise

• pizza with bacon, a treat!
• cinnamon rolls on a Saturday morning
• pigs, romping and racing like children.
• seeing my reflection in his eyes

• The Waltons, borrowed from the library. (I COVET that house.)
• feasting, in our own way

#599 ~ #640 bits of grace to fill my days.

Rain

Rain, rain you can stay
I'm snugglin' in with my baby today!

I CAN

CAN'T
by Edgar Guest

Can't is the worst word that's written or
spoken;
Doing more harm here than slander and lies;
On it is many a strong spirit broken,
And with it many a good purpose dies.
It springs from the lips of the thoughtless each
morning
And robs us of courage we need through the
day:
It rings in our ears like a timely-sent warning
And laughs when we falter and fall by the
way.

Can't is the father of feeble endeavor,
The parent of terror and half-hearted work;
It weakens the efforts of artisans clever,
And makes of the toiler an indolent shirk.
It poisons the soul of the man with a vision,
It stifles in infancy many a plan;
It greets honest toiling with open derision
And mocks at the hopes and the dreams of a
man.

Can't is a word none should speak without
blushing;
To utter it should be a symbol of shame;
Ambition and courage it daily is crushing;
It blights a man's purpose and shortens his
aim.
Despise it with all of your hatred of error;
Refuse it the lodgement it seeks in your brain;
Arm against it as a creature of terror,
And all that you dreams of you some day shall
gain.

Can't is the word that is foe to ambition,
An enemy ambushed to shatter your will;
Its prey is forever the man with a mission
And bows but to courage and patience and
skill.
Hate it, with hatred that's deep and undying,
For once it is welcomed 'twill break any
man;
Whatever the goal you are seeking, keep trying
And answer this demon by saying: "I can."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• I *can* grocery shop with four children. (even if it means wearing the baby!)
• 
  
• I *can* survive the cross-eyes and stares when the whole family goes to town.
• 
  
• I *can* still carve out moments to read my OWN books, even if it is late at night and in bed.
  
• 
  
• We *can* still drink water when the electricity goes out (thanks to the stored water in the basement.)
• 
  
• I *can* feel protected, even when it seems the world is against me.
• 
  
• I *can* be cherished and loved, if only I let him.
• 
  
• God *can* use me to mold my childrens' lives, despite my many failings
• 
  
• We *can* trust in His will.
• 
  
• We can accomplish all that we ought in school (and enjoy doing it!)
• 
  
• I *can* still manage a nice meal every now and again.
• 
  
• I *can* happily heat up the kitchen with canning and baking on this brisk, cool, ever-rainy days
• 
  
• I *can* still take notes on lectures, even if I am not getting a popquizz on Friday. Learning is never over...not even for me.
• 
  
• I *can* find joy in the mundane
• 
  
• I *can* take a moment to do puzzles.
• 
  
• I *can* find value without dollar signs.
• 
  
• I *can* seek truth.
• 
  
• I *can* keep answering when the "Why's" keep coming.
• 
  
• I *can* still snuggle a 7 year old.
• 
  
• I *can* depend on others.
• 
  
• I *can* still be surprised by the things he does. (In a good way.)
  

• I *can* sing in the midst of tears.
• 
  
• I *can* depend on Matt.
• 
  
• I *can* be strong.
• 
  
• I *can* create.
  
• 
  
• I *can* make mistakes and be forgiven.
• 
  
• I *can* lose weight.
• 
  
• I *can* be gracious.
• 
  
• I *can* be beautiful, being made in His image.
  
• 
  
• I *can* forgive.
• 
  
• I *can* be self-controlled.
• 
  
• I *can* be content.
• 
  
• I *can* be productive.

Becoming what we were meant to be can be hard. It usually is. But aren't the most difficult things in life the most rewarding?

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." phillipians 4:13

So thankful for the possibilities within me and the fresh start I am given each week, each day, each moment. All are gifts, all worthy of a number.

#567 ~ #598 possibilities for me. Thank you, Father.

Changing Seasons

Last night was an October sky: the vibrant orange, then pink, then purple cascading over mountains and trees and bathing everything and everyone in gold and it was then that I realized summer was over. Moreso than the dying garden, the cold barefeet, the morning shivers and the crinkling leaves, that one magnificent sky opened my eyes to it.

Everywhere around me I see signs of the changing seasons.

The chickens are molting; the rooster has only one proud arched feather in back to strut around. The garden is taking its' last gasping breathes before dying an October death. My basil finally gave in. Warm breakfasts are preferred to cold. My typical barefeet seem constantly chilled.

The responsibilities of a new baby. A family of six. Two "schooled" children, instead of one. Trying in vain to lose baby weight, 30 pounds of it.

My blog is quiet for weeks at a time.

Life happens; moments, days and seasons change right under my sniffing nose. I really don't intend upon staying away from Renaissance for so long, but the longer I stay away, the easier it becomes~ which is surprising, even to me. When I begin to worry that no one will want to visit this blog if I stay away for a week at a time, I take a breath and comfort myself knowing that even still, all is as it should be because life OUGHT to take precedence over recording memories. A life lived is more important than a life preserved for posterity.

So I will be here when I can, and only then; and you faithful few, who continue to visit despite my absences are the visits I will cherish most of all.

October and this new season of Newman~ I am finally ready for you.

Allow me to catch myself up:

SINCE I LAST WROTE....

* the leaves not only began to change but began what MUST have been their color peak. Alas, I didn't have my camera the day I noticed and the next day (and since) it has rained, knocking vibrance to the ground to be trod upon.

* we made grand messes in the kitchen


* I made the most delicious peanut butter swirl cookies and then gave them all away.

* I thanked the me I was a few months ago, the girl who popped some extra pie crust into the freezer after making a double batch for no reason. Chicken Potpie is made so much faster when the dough is right there handy.

* A Judah-party was given by my sister. It was too fun to take pictures of.


* I greedily have taken hourly sniffs in the neck of my delicious boy

* I have become so frustrated with life that I could have screamed countless times. Oh-that's right. I DID scream. Ironically, it is the life that is lived outside these four walls that infuriates me so.

* I have begun walking/jogging-methinks in part to counteract said frustrations. Unfortunately, ice cream has also been consumed for the same reasons.

* School has officially started and been eased into, and somewhere along the line I got myself a new student. Our school days aren't all that I have planned for them to be just yet, but I am happily confident that it will be before too long.


*I discovered a boy who scribbled a few months ago has turned into quite the perfectionist recently!

* My Judah boy has finally begun consistently giving me a full nights' sleep, the latest all-night sleeper I have had to date but admittedly, still blessedly young.

* I cleaned the childrens' room (with their help). No more stinky socks hanging out in toy baskets or dust bunnies under the bed.


* Began the exhausting chore of changing summer to fall clothing out. Two oldest children are complete. One more child and two adults to go.

* Watched a girl fall on her forehead no less than five times.

* we added more animals to our ever expanding farm. This time, RABBITS. I won't tell you what is in store for their babies, I don't feel comfortable with it at all.

* Bugs of all kinds have come inside to find themselves in the comfort of home. (I don't feel comfortable with this, either.)



* Tried to savor the last of my own tomatoes. Salads daily. Bruschetta tonight. Soon those garden garnets will be gone and things won't be the same without them.

* Handmedown knits have made their appearances.


* leaf piles are the newest game. When it isn't raining cats and dogs.

* I remembered what it was like to fall asleep in a perfectly tidy bedroom. Sweeter dreams were my reward for hard work.

* Matt and I went to visit a struggling brother sans older children. The visit was tragic and sweet, all rolled into one.

* had a princess help with pears


* admired Oma's threadbare apron, buried in gold


* Our winter-wood got all split, much of it as a surprise to us by Matts' dad. ?!?! Wonderful man!

* Made stovetop kettle corn. Delicious.

* Got into John Taylor Gatto's head once more, always an enlightening trip.

* Did a Senior session


*Laughed at how babies suck any bare skin available to them~ no matter that it is an arm or a shoulder or a neck.

* It has been (and still is) raining torrents.

Grapes

We got the grapes done on Saturday. 60 pounds of 'em. Drinking antioxidant-rich grape juice during the winter months is not only a treat, but an immune booster to boot. It is good for you.

Instead of last years' wash and pluck method (in which you add 3/4 cup of sugar for every four cups of water (boiled for five minutes). Pour into jars, adding about 1 1/2 cups grapes per jar). Process for 15 minutes in boiling water bath. Let cure for several weeks and strain grapes when ready to drink.) I decided to use Matt's handy dandy fruit press for the job.

Last years' work was tedious, I recall. Not as tedious as peeling and seeding them, but tedious enough.

All hands were on deck to help.

Fresh tastes, all around...

...which made this little ones' hands keep reaching for more juice instead of helping with the grapes.

Eventually, that had to be nixed.

We used a clean sheet for the "strainer", just as we do with apples. But with the grapes, there was still a lot of squirtage. (yes, I made that word up.) Methinks we need to modify the design a bit, making a shield of some sort. Or just plan on showers for all afterward.


Last year I had 56 pounds of grapes and made 56 quarts of juice. But, with that canning method, most of the jar was water.

This year, 60 pounds of grapes yielded just-shy of 22 pints ( more without the fresh tastes taken) of pure juice concentrate. YUM-O. Pure goodness (and saves space in my ever-filling canning cupboard!)

A Closer Look: The Canning Cupboard

This man, during his few days off, started a project for ME....

...that turned into this cupboard....

...which when opened, looks like this....

....which holds lots of these....

Approximately 320 some quarts, I think it is.

I love that the shelves are just big enough for quarts-no wasted space-and that the jars that had begun piling up around my smaller canning shelf (and along the walls in random rooms and basements) now have a SPOT. A place for everything and everything in its' place.

At least until this one fills up. Which it nearly has---and I haven't even gotten to the pears or apples. Or any of the meat I plan to can.

It's a beautiful sight. To me, anyway.

Thank you Mattie.

Multitude Monday

Always more moments in life to be filled with gratitude, always more beautiful moments to notice:

#534~ clear water with ice cubes, plunked

#535~ husband-made spaghetti

#536~ A new family read-aloud, just begun

#537~ Smooch, all snuggled in

#538~ first week of school, over

#539~ a child-made firepole under a canopy of grapes

#540~ childhood innovation

#541~ a garden, still green

#542~ tomatoes, more. lots more. (This IS a good thing, right?)

#543~ the sharp points of newly sharpened pencils

#544~ the smell of mulch

#545~ scrap pans for pigs. Absolutely NO waste on this place.

#546~ the smell of these lovelies when you walk into the front room. Way better than YANKEE.


#547~blue eyes turning brown

#548~ hot showers

#549~ baby breathing

#550~ the little blonde waif running about

#551~ the last Rose of summer, a surprise gift



#552~ little fingers that wrap around my own without even knowing it

#553~ elastic waistbands, thank goodness!!

#554~ sun rays splotched through cloud shadows

#555~ hours, lined up on a shelf



#556~ shelves to line hours ON

#557~ bananagram lunches

#558~ homemade bruschetta, oh.so.good

#559~ a visit with Gram, introductions


#560~ a day of Baptism, Judah's

#561~ crisply ironed clothes, laying flat on Saturday night. Preparing for the Sabbath.


# 562~ washing with water

# 563~ He who calls himself the Bread of Life and the True Vine

#564~ feasting on His bread and His wine each week

#565~ a wee girl who spreads her skirt wide and waits to partake of the bread, patiently staring at it as if it will run away.

#566~ a boy whose happy face is a scowl

#533 ~ #566 bits of my amazingly beautiful life. Thank you, Father.

Brothers

Thanks so much for all the input on birth announcement survey. Looks to me like we are agreed. The green shot won out in the end, which is just the one I was leaning towards.

Why?

Because I stumbled across this four year old photo of Judah's lookalike, back when Andrew was my little Panda. awwww....memories. The likeness just tickled my fancy, even down to them holding their hands similarly. Sweet babies.

Andrew's birth announcement photo:

I was surprised by all the anti-cord feedback I got. Never in a million years would I have thought a cord would gross people out. Even my mother called to say YUCK. She even suggested I put a silver dollar or something over it---ha!

Honestly, since that little black plug is the only thing proving that my 3-month old sized child is indeed a newborn, I wanted it in the photo. It stays on for such a short time, I wanted to capture it while I could. The newborn essence.

But, on the other hand, it is good to know that it grosses some people out. Wouldn't want my birth announcement to illicit vomiting around the globe. :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lots of things to share, but alas, school must be done. Egg dishes to wash. A fireman to oversee (the four year old kind). A baby to nurse. You know, things like that. If I get all my ducks in a row---you might see me twice today.

Here's hoping...