Gathering My Thoughts

I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

I think I need another thick layer of topsoil on the front bed. When the girls planted tulips, I'm not sure they dug deep enoough and now I'm worried they'll freeze.

::listening to 

The hum of the dryer.

::clothing myself in 

Black. Again. When my aunt died in September, my sister urged me to buy a new black dress. By the fourth death this fall, I did. Funeral again today. That makes six dear souls for whom we are praying especially this November.

::talking with my children about these books

We're all listening to The Mysterious Benedict Society together. I can't recommend it enough!

::thinking and thinking

 

::pondering 

I'm pondering the Eastern tradition of St. Philip's fast and the wisdom there. Saint Francis De Sales counseled even lay people to fast beyond the minimum; "If you are able to fast, you will do well to observe some days beyond what are ordered by the Church".) Furthermore, Pope Paul VI raised the norm even higher in regions “where economic well-being is greater”, stating that in such areas, “so much more will the witness of asceticism have to be given in order that the sons of the Church may not be involved in the spirit of the world.” 

As grocery stores explodes with the abundance of Christmas, I'm doubling down on our efforts to look at the season through a different lens. The only catalog we've kept for list making purposes is the Food for the Poor gift catalog, where each of my kids is deciding what to give. They are debating the merits of soccer balls over chickens...

::carefully cultivating rhythm

I'm grateful to have thought through a November rhythm. I expected that it would be more at-home and more peaceful. But life--and death--happen. I'm still grateful to have had the plan.

::creating by hand

I have my list of gifts to make and I really thought I'd be merrily crafting them by now. Maybe I'll get to it by Friday. It's a pretty fun list and I am excited. But first, a pause to catch the last few rays of November light.

::learning lessons in

grief. We all experience it so differently. Grieving with someone and walking someone through her own grief--all very tricky. 

::encouraging learning 

Stephen is still faithfully writing for National Novel Writing Month. November seems like a great month for national initiatives. Stephen's writing a novel. Patrick's trying to grow a beard-- or something. I like Stephen's chances;-). Fortunately, Patrick is very secure in his manhood, with or without facial hair. He's looking rather like Shaggy from Scooby Doo.

::begging prayers

For my friend Megan and her family and for the repose of the soul of her beautiful mother, Cynthia McMullen.

For our dear friend Shawn Kuykendall, who is suffering terribly, and for his family and friends.

For Elizabeth DeHority, who faces a new round of very difficult chemotherapy today.

::keeping house

The basement is clean. Really clean. And the kids are so much enjoying the space downstairs that I think they'll help me keep it so. I am definitely an autumn deep cleaner. I still have a few more things I want to get to before Advent begins. My favorite Advent hymn is "People Loook East." Honestly, I love the phrase, "Make your house fair as you are able. Trim the hearth and set the table." It's been humming in my head all month. I do this when I am expecting a baby, too. The first couple weeks, after the positive test and before I start throwing up, I put meals in the freezer and try to get everything as clean and organized as possible to withstand the storm that is the first 16 weeks. Then, after the hyperemeis subsides, I seize the second trimester (what's left of it) and I clean and organize like crazy. I know that a newborn brings its own sweet chaos, so I do things that make that postpartum period easier. But I also want to have everything "just so" for the baby. The baby, of course, never notices. Still, I persist in this theory of getting my house ready for a noble guest every single time. The third trimester, I focus on baby "decorating" and readying baby clothing and supplies. I've recognized that I nest during Advent, too--and even before. November is all about that deep cleaning. I don't like to bring the trimmings out into a mess. Advent is readying for the baby.This year, as we grieve, we've thrown ourselves into the pre-Advent purging with considerable enthusiasm.

::crafting in the kitchen 

We've been making meals to take to friends. We brought dinner and basket of goodies to Megan last week. Tomorrow, we'll bring breakfast. And on Thursday, we're bringing dinner to Ginny, to celebrate new life. I figure dinner there is my ticket for unlimited baby holding. Looking very forward to inhaling that sweet boy. I'm looking for ideas. What are your favorite meals to bring or to receive? How do you make bringing meals something special?

::loving the moments

Patrick and the rest of the UVa soccer team defeated Notre Dame on Friday night to make it to the ACC finals. They lost to Maryland in a heartbreaking finish in the finals. I have lots of pictures to share, but time's really short right now, so I'll have to put them up here tomorrow. There were lots of very cool moments. The game was fairly local for us, at a park where my youth soccer players play all the time. So, it was like coming home for Paddy. My favorite moment was sweeping the stands with my camera and seeing so very many people there for him. At the first game, our friend from high school, MaryKay and her young family came to cheer. The second game we packed the stands. There were the regulars--my dad and his wife; all our kids (except the Sugar Plum Fairy); Stephen's godfather, Bill, and Beverly; Christian's godfather Jim and his daughter Rachel; and then there were old friends: families from Stephen's and Nick's former teams; the manager's family and the photographer from Paddy's youth team;  even a dad from Michael's youth team days. Several people came from Mike's office.  My friend Lisa (who started as an online friend and is now a flesh-and-blood friend) and her husband and son were there. Usually, Lisa and I live soccer games together via text. It was such a gift to have her right there! And, Mike's sister came and brought his mom. She rarely leaves the house and, though this game felt local to us, it was wandering far afield for her. It was good to gather together.

::giving thanks 

the comfort of the liturgy--from the Liturgy of the Hours, to the liturgy of the Mass, to the liturgical year--there is comfort in knowing that some things are never changing.

living the liturgy

I'm having to reconcile myself to the fact that though we say we live the liturgical year, some of the things that "we always do" because they are part of our liturgical celebration, aren't really necessary to celebrate liturgy with the Church. I've worked super hard to establish traditions around the liturgical year. In those baby years, when everyone was little and Mike was traveling all the time, it was really hard to make sure that we did certain things on certain days. But we did it. I wanted my kids to go out into the world when they were big and know wherever they were that certain days are set aside to fast or feast and always, always to pray. I wanted the liturgical year in the domestic church to be an anchoring peg. I wanted traditions to be for them what they are for me--reliable, predictable, purposeful places of the heart when the world is turned upside down. And I was kind of passionate about it.

St. Nicholas day has always been really huge. I told you about my stocking meltdown last year. You offered great ideas in the combox. I had hoped we'd  press on better than ever. The reality is that we won't do stockings on St. Nicholas day this year, for some of the reasons I outlined last year. And for resons that never occurred to me. And we have a new reason it will be different that day. For 23 years, it's been stocking day. For 13 years, it's been Nick's Name Day. But for 90 years, it's been Granddad's birthday. It still is. But this year, our real life jolly old man won't be with us to celebrate. 

Michael and Kristin are making their own traditions. Patrick and Christian will be deep into exams. St. Nicholas day is in need of something new. Something enduring?

I've often considered the habits of celebrating the liturgical year to be the tracks upon which our family prayer life are laid.

We live an advent that is intentional and filled with meangingful activity and pockets of quiet peace. And even when they're grown and gone, I'll still live those days much the same way.

 I thought my children would travel through life, navigating twists and turns and always have the signposts of the liturgical year to keep them rooted in the faith of the Univeral Church. The reality is that academic calendars and NCAA tournament schedules don't consider the liturgical year. The reality is that they are going to choose to make new traditions in their own homes. 

So, while I don't regret a single early December scramble to ready myself for St. Nicholas day and I will always sing the candle songs for each day of Advent and I'm not one bit sorry for thorns on salt dough crosses during Lent, and by golly, someone will have to read me all the books when I'm too old to see, I urge young moms not to be so wrapped up in those traditions it rocks your world when they die or are abandoned. And please, please, don't let it all be about the cupcakes; you'd be amazed how quickly they are too old for cupcakes. Think hard about investing in traditions that at least have the potential to be adopted in the new homes of grown children. And when they don't adopt them, it's probably best to just look back fondly at the memories you created and not be terribly sad they're over, but be wonderfully glad they happened.

Really and truly, the liturgical year is much more enduring than cinnamon rolls on the Feast of St. Lucy. Those things bring great joy. They have great meaning and I still believe that they make for a childhood that is rich with wonder and reverence and joy. They are not the source and summit of handing on the faith.

::planning for the week ahead

Some visiting to do. More soccer. More Nutcracker. More later;-)..

Gathering my Thoughts

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I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

The Bradford Pear tree in my front yard is always late to the autumn color show. I’m so glad. All the other trees are faded and nearly bare. This big beauty still has most of her leaves and they are turning from green to a glorious red. Lovely, lovely, lovely.

We planted 90 bulbs last week--one for every year that Granddad lived. In the springtime they will radiate all kinds of glorious color. At least I hope they will.

::listening to 

soccer practice. It’s the Monday routine, no? It’s quite chilly. Regular season games have ended. And still, Stephen has four practices this week and a couple weekend scrimmages in the works. There is no off-season, friends.

::clothing myself in 

Yoga pants, sweatshirt, and hand knit cashmere socks sent to me by Elizabeth DeHority. I spent the day cleaning the basement. I did shower and change but when I did, I just got dressed in another variation of the same. I’m going to sit in the car and write for an hour and a half and then go home, put small people to bed, sleep, and repeat the entire process. Mike’s out of town until Tuesday late. Not a much here that calls for earrings or proper clothing.

::talking with my children about these books

Jan Brett’s new book Cinders arrived a few days ago. Love, love, love that our fairytale explorations can take on a new volume.

::thinking and thinking

About all the things I thought I was going to do this year, mostly writing projects and speaking opportunities and all the things I did instead, mostly mothering. Thinking what a grace it is to be at peace with that equation.

::pondering prayerfully

“Our condemnation is often the veil for our own weakness: we cover up our own nakedness with the mantle of criticism; we see the mote in our brother’s eye, but never the beam in our own.” ~Venerable Fulton Sheen

::carefully cultivating rhythm

We are intentionally living each November day according to the healing plan. So far, so good.

::creating by hand

Surprises to send across the country.

::learning lessons in

Grief and gratitude. One is more bearable if every time it invades my brain space I chase it with the other.

::encouraging learning 

Had a discussion of “logistics” with one of my children today. Said child asked, “What, exactly, are the logistics that get a baby into a mom?” Um. Not the UPS man, my dear.

::begging prayers

for all the intentions of our prayer community.

::keeping house

I am on a serious deep cleaning mission. Everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. It’s purge and vacuum in every corner of my house. Amen.

And today is that glorious day every fall when all the laundry gets caught up.

::crafting in the kitchen 

I deep cleaned the pantry yesterday. I took everything out, wiped it all down, and put back only healthy things. For me, this appears to be a first step every time I successfully get back on the grain-free/dairy free wagon. I desperately need to get back on that wagon.

There are a few baking mixes on the top shelf, reserved in case we are required to bake on a moment’s notice (yes, that does happen). Other than that, there is nothing but whole food in my kitchen. By the way, somehow I have come to possess six pounds of red lentils and four pounds of green lentils. Feel free to share your favorite lentil recipes. I’d be most appreciative.

::loving the moments

when I know I just invested a whole day in the hearts of my children.

::giving thanks 

for a home my children truly love.

living the liturgy

I’ve moved my morning Liturgy of the Hours time yet again. Sarah Annie loves to cuddle first thing when she wakes up. She wants me to sit and be still and just hold her. Turns out she loves Morning Prayer, too. I’ve promised her that time every day and she holds me to it. We do Night Prayer together, too. In her bed. She’s yet to remain awake until the end. Truly beautiful way to close out the day.

Liturgy is a gift. For me, in times when I’ve doubted or struggled with the community of the Church, it is liturgy that has sustained me. Scripture and prayer and wisdom of the saints of old. A lovely, sustainable rhythm for any day in any season. And if you drift away, it will be right there, unchanged, awaiting your return.

::planning for the week ahead

*More deep cleaning.

*Hopefully, a visit to hold a newborn baby

*Hopefully, a trip to Germantown to the Soccerplex for the ACC semifinals on Friday and finals on Sunday. Hopfully.

*More Nutcracker rehearsals.

*Another soccer tournament for Nick.

Gathering My Thoughts

I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

There are two new trees on my front porch, awaiting some nice big holes. Mike’s studio sent us a crape myrtle and a dogwood to be planted. I’ve always wanted those two trees! I’m looking forward to getting them in the ground.

::listening to 

soccer sounds. I’m at the fields again while Nick plays. Familiar sounds of happy boys. Music, really.

::clothing myself in 

For the funeral, my boys all wore their wedding suits. A couple of them had to be let out several inches each. There was something incredibly powerful about looking down the pew at five boys dressed alike, five profiles so very much the same. Like arrows in a quiver…

::talking with my children about these books

The Mysterious Benedict Society! Oh my gracious, what a great book! Nick, Stephen, and I listened to it all the way to New Jersey and all the way back last week. Highly, highly recommended.

::thinking and thinking

About death and grief and legacy and blessing. I will never look at grief and mourning the same way again. I will never assume that my presence at a wake or a funeral is insignificant. I noticed every single person who came to grieve with us and I sincerely appreciated each one. This came as a surprise to me, no big lover of crowds. With each person, we were given a little piece of memory and not one was insignificant. I cannot overstate how much their presence meant to me. From a young age, Catholics are taught that burying the dead is a corporal work of mercy. Now, I fully understand why.

::pondering prayerfully

I’d love to tell you that it’s Scripture that has run through my head this week, but it’s not. At least not consistently. Instead, it’s Bette Midler.

Did you ever know that you’re my hero,

And everything I would like to be?

I can fly higher than eagle,

For you are the wind beneath my wings.

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,

But I’ve got it all here in my heart.

I want you to know the truth, of course I know it.

I would be nothing without you.

Thank you, thank you

Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.

Everything I would like to be. Amen.

::carefully cultivating rhythm

We’ve certainly lost our rhythm. Even the very basic stuff of life like sleep. Until last night, every night was interrupted by a child calling out in the night. Some of them were not so very small. If we can just restore sleep, I’m hopeful that the rest of rhythm will find us, too.

::creating by hand

I had a long talk with Ginny this morning about a Honey Cowl. Yarn is ordered. I still have sleeves to knit on my baby sweater and a sleeve for Karoline’s Tiny Tea Leaves, but that cowl will happen sooner than later, mark my words. Besides, sleeves scare me.

::learning lessons in

What’s really important. Careful readers will recognize that I was struggling a bit before my father-in-law died, just trying to resolve some things that have long troubled me. The loss of someone very close, together with a studied reflection of his life—very well lived—have made some of those puzzles of last month seem easy to solve. These days have been wracked with grief, but I sense certain peace in our not-too-distant future.

::encouraging learning 

Math. In an effort to regain our routine, I have insisted on math. Today, we will pull the books for “E” Week, though I don’t think we finished D. I just can’t go back that way. Better to move forward.

::begging prayers

for the repose of the soul of Eldo Merlin Foss, beloved husband, father, and grandfather.

::keeping house

My sweet sister is sending a cleaning lady at the end of the week. Incredibly thoughtful gift.

::crafting in the kitchen 

Hilary brought us lasagna on Monday. My sister sent an abundance of Chinese food on Tuesday. Kristin brought a million bagels the morning of the funeral. My mom sent sushi the night of the funeral. That’s all we ate all week. Everyone survived.

For Monday Night Football this week, Nick made Manhattan-style clam chowder. Back in the saddle. We’re getting there.

::loving the moments

when I catch his eye and know he’s remembering the same thing I am.

::giving thanks 

for friends:

::the one who received my urgent text on Sunday and prayed me home from the tournament. Neither of us knew what I was driving into and neither of us knew what Mike was already facing, but God did and His grace was sufficient.

::the one who prayed while I wrote

::the one who is too pregnant to move, but willingly sits and listens to me ramble on and on, while I try to make sense of the jumble in my brain.

::the old friends who picked up right where we left off and came to be with my family, to remember, and to comfort us with their presence.

::far-flung friends who have prayed for us and sent words of solace.

::my sister-in-law’s friends, who provided food for strangers and loved our tribe well.

::Mary Beth’s friend Molly, who sat with me for hours and sifted through years of photo memories. Sometimes friends are more than friends and when they are, they are Molly.

::Patrick’s friend, Zach, who was there with Granddad the last time my children saw him, was there on Sunday afternoon when Mike shared the news that he was gone, drove Patrick back to school, and then came home with Patrick for the funeral. Together with my boys, Zach carried my father-in-law on Saturday. We are grateful for Zach’s strength.

::my sister, the oldest friend I have. She has an uncanny knack for knowing when I’m at my absolute lowest and calling just then. Her support this past week has meant the world to me.

::living the liturgy

There is a beauty to living liturgy, a beauty that reveals itself in moments of sorrow. Planning the funeral Mass was a source of great comfort. Celebrating that Mass in community with people dear to us is a gift that defies words. God is very good.

::planning for the week ahead

We are going to put one foot in front of the other this week, trying to restore rhythm, stopping to soothe sad hearts, tending to the business at hand.

Tomorrow is Mary Beth’s 17^th birthday.

On Saturday, Stephen will play in the State Cup Final Four in Richmond. Mary Beth will go to a homecoming dance.

Life will go on.

Gathering My Thoughts

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I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

Nick and I were later than we’d hoped to be to goalkeeper training Monday night. We made a decision to pull over and capture the sunset. He’s been so desperately wanting to do this that I took iPhone pics and put the big camera around his neck. We’re both very pleased.

I’ve been consciously focusing on home these days, trying to hear God’s call here and to appreciate the beauty in both this time and this place. All the pictures this week were taken at places very much a part of my daily round

::listening to 

ringing in my head. Mike and I went to our high school reunion Saturday night. We got back to the hotel around 1:00. When I found myself shivering and nauseous around 2:00, I thought maybe that’s what happens when I go over my one-glass-of-wine limit (I had two glasses in the space of seven hours, but you never know). I don’t know why I didn’t remember at the time that my girls have recently had what Karoline called “the dizzy fever.” Dizzy fever indeed. Thanks for sharing with Mama. I’m still shivering and sweating and my head’s ringing.

::clothing myself in 

Yoga pants, sweatshirt, and hand knit cashmere socks sent to me by Elizabeth DeHority. The rain and the wind brought cooler temperatures to the evening. Nothing like welcoming autumn weather with a touch of cashmere.

::thinking and thinking

About this:

Unfortunately, experiences of moral failure, group meltdowns, personal pettiness, and partison harshness in congregations and ommunities make us wonder if our efforts in building community are worth the trouble. We often invest great hope in our Christian communities, and when there are serious ruptures, it feels as if part of the kingdom has been trampled. How is it that people who want closer relationships and deeper experiences of shared life sometimes find themselves in terribly difficult situations--sorting out betrayals, broken commitments, and creeping cynicism?

Growing into the likeness of Christ and into the church as it's supposed to be cannot be separated from the messiness and disappointments that are part of human relationships. We can protect ourselves from such difficulties only by cutting ourselves off from our relationships, and that is rarely a satisfactory option. Nevertheless, we can build and maintain congregations--just like we do with marriages, families, monastic communities, and businesses--in better or worse ways. Good communities and lifegiving congregations emerge at the intersection of divine grace and steady human effort.

~from Living into Community.

I have a lot of regrets about community in the last decade. Most about an online community where I invested far too much time and assumed far too much about friendship. Sadly, there has been a fair share of trial and scandal in our local church community, too. In both cases, the scars, particularly where some of my kids are concerned are deep and still painful to the touch. And yet. And yet, try as I might to deny it, I know He created us for community.

Just where? And how?

::pondering prayerfully

“How is it God, that you have given me this hectic busy life when I have so little time to enjoy your presence? Throughout the day, people are waiting to speak with me, and even at meals, I have to continue talking to people about their needs and problems. During sleep itself I am still thinking and dreaming about the multitude of concerns that surround me. I do all this not for my own sake, but for yours. I only hope that for you it is truly a sacrifice of love. I know that you are constantly beside me, yet I am usually so  busy that I ignore you. If you want me to remain so busy, please force me to think about and love you even in the midst of such hectic activity. If you do not want me so busy, please release me from it, showing other how they can take over my responsibilities.” St. Teresa of Avila

::carefully cultivating rhythm

At the beginning of a season, rhythm takes careful thought and quite a bit of discipline. Then, it sort of dissolves into a natural, easy flow. We have finally reached the flowing stage. Alleluia! Amen.

::creating by hand

I bound off on the body of a baby sweater last night. On to the sleeves! And I cut a top for Sarah today. I hope to feel well enough tomorrow to sew early in the morning.

::learning lessons in

Food again. I slacked off on the “no gluten-no dairy-no sugar” resolve. It’s always really hard during birthday week. I’m seven pounds heavier and my joints are stiff and painful. So, if I needed to learn whether food makes a difference, I just did.

::encouraging learning 

in geography. My four-year-old can look at the shape of a state and the outline of the country (with no states outlined) and put her finger on the spot where that state belongs. She can do it for all 50 states consecutively without missing one. I did nothing. Stack the States app is all kinds of amazing.

::begging prayers

for all the intentions of our prayer community.

::keeping house

I think dipping leaves in beeswax and bringing autumn to the mantel are in order this week.

::crafting in the kitchen 

Is anybody else putting pumpkin in everything? I can’t seem to help myself...

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::loving the moments

when we gather with friends and family on the sidelines of a soccer match. On Friday night, we had dinner with my father and stepmother. We went to watch Patrick play. There, we met my friend Sharon and her husband. Sharon went to high school with us and she was a dear friend in my early mothering days. Sitting next to her, sharing mom hearts, it was just like old times. Even better.

::giving thanks 

for our high school reunion, old friends, and warm conversations.

living the liturgy

I’ve moved my morning Liturgy of the Hours time from the closet with my bike to the sewing room. I know I do this at the risk of not being able to squeeze the exercise in at midday, where I now have it penciled. But right now, I need to make a commitment to sewing time and sewing has naturally become a kind of prayer. So let’s see how it works there.

::planning for the week ahead

Colleen arrives tomorrow. After a whirlwind trip all over the country meeting interesting and influential people, she’s going to spend a few days resting and recovering here. I have no one influential lined up for her and nothing especially interesting. Our days will be filled with autumn walks, homemade soup, crusty bread, and the Jane Austen movie marathon Karoline has planned.

The weekend will take the boys and me to Princeton, NJ for a soccer tournament.

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Gathering My Thoughts

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I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

I love the way the sun sets at the soccer field. It’s happening earlier and earlier each evening. Next week, we might miss it altogether. I am determined to bring my camera tomorrow in order to attempt to capture it. The iPhone just isn’t cutting it.

::listening to 

soccer practice.

::clothing myself in 

Denim shorts and an orange shirt, neither of which I owned last spring. When we first saw possibilities for the cover of Small Steps, I didn’t much prefer the one that was chosen. It’s been a few babies since I’ve felt comfortable in shorts and orange isn’t really my color;-). When I received word that the “shorts cover” was indeed the cover chosen, I went shopping. I try really, really, super hard to be wholly authentic. If my book had a picture of a lady in shorts with an orange shirt and her feet up drinking coffee, by golly, I was going to make every effort to try that whole scene at least once. So, I did.

I still rarely put my feet up. I don’t drink coffee regularly. My couch does not match my orange shirt. And the orange shirt still isn’t really my color. But the denim shorts?

I kind of love them.

::talking with my children about these books

we spent a lot of time talking about 9/11 books last week. The kids seemed to keep revisiting them, much more so than in years past. We haven’t yet talked about the recent D.C. shooting. I put a ban on all television where they might be exposed. I spent a fair amount of time making telephone calls in my car so that I was safely out of earshot. I need to figure out how to approach this one. This time, it’s going to take me a few days to find words.

::thinking and thinking

About God’s unique call. I wonder sometimes at the damage done by a women’s movement that fought so hard and so long to persuade the culture that women can do it all—be wives, mothers, employees, employers, artisans, crafters of the ideal life. No ceiling, no boundaries, no limitations. But there are, aren’t there? Natural law makes it so. There are only so many hours, so much energy. We can’t do it all and we likely will burn ourselves out trying. The culture tells us we can. God doesn’t. God calls us uniquely to live as He created us and He grants us abundant grace to do it. He didn’t create us for burnout. That feeling of being stretched too thin, doing everything halfheartedly and nothing well? That’s not of God.

::pondering prayerfully

Let yourself be seen by all as you really are. Just as we are in the sight of God, so let us be in the sight of all.

~ St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

::carefully cultivating rhythm

We are in the second full week of the total schedule. I’m finding my writing pockets. Those are like little nuggets of gold. Writing does for me what knitting does—it calms me; it organizes my thoughts; it leaves me feeling full. I get a little stressed out when I’m not sure how I’ll fit it in. It relaxes me to see those golden nuggets of time reveal themselves.

::creating by hand

I did the things Monday that keep me from sewing. I prewashed a whole bunch of yardage. And I traced. I ordered some patterns (that I thought I’d already ordered but apparently in my sleepless stupor last week I never sealed the deal). I’m planning some shirts and dresses for my girls and a little love bundle for the mail. Now, I might actually get to sew!

::learning lessons in

appliance maintenance. Just in case there is someone else out there who doesn’t know: Take the cover off your dryer every month. Vacuum out the inside. I’m not talking about the lint screen. You have to clean that every time you switch loads. I’m talking about the innards, where the heating element warms the drum. Lint gets in there. And it can catch fire. When it does, it causes the thermostat to overheat, igniting the safety valve which shuts the whole thing down. That’s the best case scenario: you get a load full of dried clothes that smell like you had a wild time in a smoky bar and you have to replace the thermostat.

The worst case scenario is the stuff of nightmares.

Really, go vacuum out the inside of your dryer.

::encouraging learning 

We’re hitting that sweet spot between planned lessons and following rabbit trails. I’m not an unschooler; been there, done that, paid a huge price. I have a plan and I have some non-negotiable essentials. But I do love a good jaunt in  an area of interest that reinforces the whole notion that learning is fun and has purpose.

::begging prayers

for the victims of the tragedy in Washington, D.C., both those who lost their lives and those who lived through the horror. My stepbrother works in Building 197. He saw unspeakable things.

for all the intentions of our prayer community.

And yes, for that intention I was keeping quiet; it’s still very close to my heartJ  

::keeping house

I am nearly caught up after being without a dryer for 9 days. Go me.

::crafting in the kitchen 

This morning I made a quick decision to return to Monday Night Football Geography. With that decision, I committed to cooking on Monday nights according to the cities that are playing. Tonight’s dinner was super fun.

::loving the moments

It’s been a rough couple of days. I caught some sort of virus late last week and it has hung on. That, coupled with a lack of sleep, a mountain of laundry, some great ideas that I don’t have time to get into print, an unintentional oil spill and cleanup to rival BP in my driveway, sewing projects that are not yet begun awaiting the magic moment, and the very tragic news of Monday morning had all combined to bring me way, way down. I sent a friend a quick note around midday Monday and she stopped and spent an hour just talking and sharing and understanding. I love the moments when I feel understood. We really need to do that for one another, don’t we? We need to understand.

::giving thanks 

for the safety of the people I love tonight. Really, it’s not to be taken for granted.

living the liturgy

We are approaching my favorite stretch of liturgical feasts. I’m so grateful for the way that the liturgy aligns with birthdays in my life. Five years ago, we began the novena for St. Therese on the September 23, the feast of Padre Pio. I began to bleed that night and the doctor in the NICU told me that birth was imminent. My baby was 28+ weeks in utero. I didn’t deliver. Instead, I spent several days in the hospital and then I returned home where I was forbidden to get out of bed. I surrounded myself with the saints. I’m going to tell you more about that tomorrow. Just know that those saints kept me safe in their prayers. My daughter was born –early, but healthy—on the vigil of All Saints. So very appropriate. And, not long after, when my world crashed and rocked and I began to question the Church because of the people in the Church, I could not walk away. Because I could not leave the communion of saints, I could not leave the Divine Office, and I could not live authentically without living the liturgy.

::planning for the week ahead

I return to the eye doctor Tuesday at noon. I would dearly love for her to tell me that we’ve made progress on this whole warped eyeball thing. I only have one ear. My eyes are working at about 50%. Just know this: I have an incredible sense of smell. So there’s that.

Mike is taking a bunch of boys to watch Paddy play Tuesday night. It’s absolutely beautiful soccer weather. That’s a good thing because we’ll return to Charlottesville Friday and then we’ll begin State Cup for Stephen back here on Saturday and there is a match for both Stephen and Nick on Sunday.

I do love to watch them play.