ENANOSLIVO

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 105

2012-02-15T10:23:00.000-06:00

So I spent the last four days working at my favorite Chicago flower shop for Valentine's Day. It was lovely. Not lovely in an I'm in the movies and prance around whilst artfully placing sweet little flowers into vases which just happen to be resting on the latest designer desk and pausing between each blossom to step back and admire my work kind of way. More in an I'm in the basement slamming flowers into vases placed on hollow doors which are placed on workhorses while WXRT blares in the background so I can hear it over the noise of the four cooler compressors which also happen to be in the basement with me. I did that for three days, then spent the fourth upstairs, blinking like a day blind troll and slamming arrangements into the hands of impatiently waiting men who are sure that I am ripping them off. Hey, buddy, I told you to get the tulips, you choose the dozen red roses, not my fault you buy into what the commercials are selling you.

Speaking of commercials, I listened to commercial radio for the first time since, well since last Valentine's Day. I really enjoy the music on XRT, but the commercials I do not enjoy. Listening to all these commercials really opened my eyes and taught me about myself. I realized that I have been going about this all wrong. I haven't maximized the potential that is The Most Romantic Day of the Year.

I realized that if I, and by extension the husband, was going to be truly happy, that I would need fleece leopard print pajamas with a hoodie, Twilight Breaking Dawn on DVD, hand painted Fannie May Chocolates, and something, anything, from Meijer and Jewel-Osco. So of course I told the husband. I told him that if I was going to be truly happy on The Most Romantic Night of the Year I would need ALL of this stuff. And if I didn't get all of this stuff, then I wouldn't be happy, and then he wouldn't be happy, in the Romantic sense, if you get my meaning. In fact one of the commercials had told me to have him sleep on the couch all week if he didn't come through with the Twilight DVD and a bottle of wine.

If I have learned one thing during our short time of married bliss, it is that the husband responds well to threats. So I threatened with no Romantic happiness and lots of couch time, then left him to decide how to proceed. Proceed he did. And in grand fashion. I won't go into lots of detail, lest all you ladies get jealous and threaten your husbands with loss of Romantic happiness and extended couch time, but lets just say it involved a home made heart, lots of watching the children while I worked, rearranging his schedule to make my life easier and no complaining that my days of work made his all ready busy schedule that much busier. It involved packing up kids and taking them to and from his parents house, making sure the kids had some valentines to open from the both of us, rubbing my hands after a long day of work, listening to me blather on about whatever instead of sleeping, and making me tea in the morning. It was perfect.

Happy Valentine's Day to all of you. I hope it was your version of perfect.

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

I am posting a musical poem, that makes me smile every time I hear it. It makes me think of the man who introduced me to Billy Bragg, and that man makes me smile. (It's the husband, in case you were wondering.)

(here's a better video, my favorite, but it would not allow me to embed it - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Goxm0x4dTw)

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

Not really a quick takes

2012-02-10T21:18:00.000-06:00

more like a random thoughts on a Friday.

In the last three weeks I have made both THIS and THIS a total of three times. Go and make them both now. They are amazing. The tart is good hot, but it is especially good at room temperature the next day for breakfast. The cake is wonderful fresh, but if you let it sit two days, instead of getting dry like most cakes do, it magically becomes more spongy and moist. So, so good.

In unrelated news, the dryer has been shrinking my clothes again.

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

We went to the Field Museum again today and had a fantastic time. I am wholly sold on having a membership to really any museum you are interested in. Our method is to arrive somewhere in the 9 o'clock hour, look at one, maybe two exhibits in depth, eat our lunch and leave while every one's happy. Wash, rinse, repeat. We never get bored, and we see MORE than ever see on a rushed free day. Today we saw the Gems exhibit, we visited Dakar, and we saw a whole bunch of taxidermy animals. When asked later what his favorite part was, Deli answered, "Well...... everything!"

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

It's that time of year again. The time where I leave my little family firmly in the hands of the husband and his parents so I can go play with the flowers for Valentine's Day. I'll work Saturday through Tuesday. It should be fun. What interests me is how each year I become less and less invested. Don't get me wrong, I love going in and working. I love eating whatever good food comes my way, and I love walking in and out of four flower stuffed coolers for four happy days. But do I miss it? Sometimes, but not enough. After four days I miss my kids, my husband, and feeling like I am connected to them. So here's to flowers, and here's to coming home!

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

This picture is late, but I stumbled across it recently, and it still makes me laugh.

Josie's take on our Thanksgiving:

Dud: I love you
Mom: I love corn!

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

Happy Weekend!!

I made something

2012-02-09T14:12:00.000-06:00

A good friend at our home school co-op recently taught a group of us to knit. Boy do I love it. I only have knit and purl under my belt so far, but this knitting has been so wonderful. Not just because I can make pretty-ish things, but because it is making our homeschooling, more specifically our math, much, much better.

You know how you sit down to do math with your small child and they have suddenly forgotten every single thing they ever knew? Then you have to explain and re-explain, and talk, and show, and pull your hair out, and the whole time your head is about to explode? All you can think about is the four thousand other things you need to do today and holy cow!why must this be so hard? fifteen minus eight equals what? what is wrong with you child? why don't you know anything? aaaaaaaarrrrrrr!

Well, I never have days like that, but if I did, knitting would totally make it better. Now I can sit at the table and explain all day long. You don't get it? That's ok, another row knit. Can I help you figure out fifteen minus eight for the twentieth time? No problem, another row purled. Still can't remember how to count to ten, my sweet third grader? Fine with me, I'd like to finish this scarf today.

Knitting is awesome.

For my niece's 15th birthday, I knit a cowl, my first ever! Happy Birthday Raquel, and I hope you don't mind your Aunt's wonky knitting! Just what all 15 year olds want to hear, right?

I'm still not decided on the buttons, but they can be removed fairly easily. If she doesn't like them they can be snipped right off without affecting anything. I would wear it, which I'm sure makes it even more super cool for all 15 year old girls out there. No matter what this cowl looks like on, my lovely niece will outshine it for sure.

Knitting is awesome. It saves my sanity, makes me slightly less yelly at the kids, and keeps those I love stocked with strange handmade presents. What's not to love?

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 104

2012-02-08T15:49:00.000-06:00

The History of Mothers of Sons

BY LISA FURMANSKI

All sons sleep next to mothers, then alone, then with others

Eventually, all our sons bare molars, incisors

Meanwhile, mothers are wingless things in a room of stairs

A gymnasium of bars and ropes, small arms hauling self over self

Mothers hum nonsense, driving here

and there (Here! There!) in hollow steeds, mothers reflecting

how faint reflections shiver over the road

All the deafening musts along the way

Mothers favor the moon—hook-hung and mirroring the sun—

there, in a berry bramble, calm as a stone

This is enough to wrench our hand out of his

and simply devour him, though he exceeds even the tallest grass

Every mother recalls a lullaby, and the elegy blowing through it

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

The Way I See It: A Different Point of View

2012-02-03T19:12:00.001-06:00

This week I decided to join in on Molly's photography challenge. I've loved looking at them week to week, and while my photo skills are light years behind hers, this isn't about perfection so much as just trying something new.

What began as thinking about new camera angles and ways of looking at ordinary objects in a new way, quickly morphed into something entirely different. Something magical happened.

Suddenly, post outdoor hot chocolate was no longer an annoying, mess making blip in my day, it was a chance to sit and enjoy the goofiness of my children. It was a mess, a mug (or two) might have been spilled, but rather than grumble and sigh, I cleaned it up and poured some more.

Suddenly, it's not bleak and ugly outside, it's a chance to look at my lovely purple pansy glass inside, and think about how good every glass full of water is for me

Suddenly, it's not Del waking up at the butt crack of dawn just to annoy me. It's a little boy wanting to help his mama make breakfast for his papi, who has to leave extra early for work. Rather than banish him to my bed to wait for a more reasonable hour, I pop him on the counter to help (and prepare myself to fish an eggshell or two out of the mix).

Suddenly it's not crazy kids that I am forced to shush repeatedly, but four excited children enjoying their trip to the Chicago Symphony for the first time. I let the music wash over me, enjoyed their laughter and their oohs and aahs at the jugglers and clowns. What? The CSO has clowns? On this trip they did. It was a special Children's Concert and it was fabulous. Instead of becoming more and more tense, I sat back and listened to Mikey giggle for 10 minutes straight. Fabulous.

Suddenly, instead of being the messiest spaghetti eater in the house, prompting Mama hisses of, "Jose! Use a napkin! Stop slurping! Not your sleeve!", she became a crazy beaver toothed vampire, slurping up the remnants of a tasty snack.

So thank you, Molly. My pictures didn't change much, but my attitude and my spirit did. And for that, it was well worth taking that different point of view.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 103

2012-02-01T15:53:00.003-06:00

Crying
Galway Kinnell

Crying only a little bit
is no use. You must cry
until your pillow is soaked!
Then you can get up and laugh.
Then you can jump in the shower
and splash-splash-splash!
Then you can throw open your window
and, "Ha ha! ha ha!"
And if people say, "Hey,
what's going on up there?"
"Ha ha!" sing back, "Happiness
was hiding in the last tear!
I wept it! Ha ha!"

We get hurt putting away dishes

2012-01-29T19:39:00.000-06:00

But we never get hurt doing this!

It started out innocently enough

2012-01-27T20:51:00.001-06:00

First we went to the Field Museum, and we were all

but then we came home and the kids were fooling around while putting away dishes, and Josie clocked Mikey in the head with a Pyrex bowl, so he was all

and the doctors gave him shots in the forehead and a couple of stitches,

which made him all

but the night ended with an oreo blizzard at DQ, which made everything aaaall right.

As the nurse was explaining to us that we need to keep the stitches dry and clean, Mikey stopped bouncing off the walls long enough to exclaim, "Well, I don't know about clean, I'm not a very clean boy, you see."

Maybe not as back as I thought

2012-01-23T21:58:00.000-06:00

You know how you walk around all day thinking things that you want to share and when it comes time to sit down and actually share those things you are too tired, so you just spend some time looking around the internet and then shut the computer off without actually sharing anything? Yeah, me neither.

~~~~~~~~~

I took this picture a week and a half ago. This picture embodies the Deli perfectly. He always chooses the hard way. But he does it with such style and vigor that you can't help but let him.

It was a warmish winter day, not warm enough for bare feet, by any stretch, but Del insisted on wearing his kara-koros. I found these little clogs at the resale and we took to calling them that after the children's book A Pair of Red Clogs. He loves these clogs. Whenever it is warm enough he insists on wearing them everywhere. Running? He runs faster in those clogs. Hiking? The woods are easier to ramble about in those clogs. Riding his Hot Wheel? Well, not quite as easy, actually kind of hard, but as long as Mama is around to pick up his clogs after they fly off his feet in a fit of pedaling, well, why not wear them?

In a nutshell, there is Del. Strange, a little difficult, and super, super cute.

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

Three days a week we've been picking up a little friend from his school while his mom is at work. Some days he comes to our house and some days I take him to his sister at home. You can tell that he is getting more and more comfortable at our place because he is becoming more and more dissatisfied with the choices I give him. "Kris, I don't want water or milk, I want juice." "Kris, I don't like oranges, I want apples." "Kris, let's watch a movie with hot cocoa, not just play." but very occasionally I hear, "Kris, that was the bestest pizza in the whole world." Which makes it all worthwhile.

Isn't that how we all are, though?

"God, eternal life isn't good enough. I want to know my immediate future as well." "Friend, I know you are always there to listen and would never turn me away, but you didn't make me that treat I so desired. You also forgot my birthday." "Dear husband, I don't want just your life long love and devotion. I want trips and dining out and jewelry and booze!"

We grow comfortable, we settle our butts down into that comfy couch that is a happy marriage, a relationship with Christ, a friendship, and we decide it's not good enough. We don't decide that we are not good enough, but that "it" and by extension, the husband/God/friend aren't good enough. We demand more and better. It's really the fastest way to unhappiness that I have found. If you know a faster way please don't tell me. Occasionally though, very occasionally, I remember that he is the bestest husband around, my God keeps me nestled in his hand, my friends are the bestest friends. And I hope it makes me all worthwhile.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Speaking of homeschooling, my children's most impressive moments as scholars are directly related to their watching of PBS Kids, and not my tender ministrations to their little minds.

Where did you learn such a big word, Josie? Word Girl.

How did you learn so much about animals, Mikey? Wild Kratts.

Where did you learn that math trick, Elia? Cyberchase.

See, I don't so much teach them as guide them to the places where they can learn the most.

"Work smart, not hard.", that's my motto.

During circle time today, we were going through our big book of manners (yes! a book!), and today's lesson was about saying no to drugs and alcohol. The idea being that sometimes it's hard to say no to friends who are doing bad things because we don't want to be rude or hurt their feelings. And that it is OK in that situation to be rude and hurt some one's feelings. Elaborating a bit on the subject I told the children that if they are ever in a situation where their friends are doing something that is wrong and they are afraid to say no that Mami and Papi can be used as the bad guys. They can blame us for not participating. They can say things like, "I can't do that, my Mom would kill me!" "I can't play that, my Dad would be so mad!" or "My parents won't let me watch that." I told them that they don't have to be afraid to blame us as a way of getting out of something bad. Sometimes it is hard to say no to naughty things by ourselves and it's ok to use the parent excuse. To which Del piped up and said, "You mean we would say...... I can't go to Disney Land, my Mom says NO."

Exactly where I was going.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don't really know what's happening here.

Whatever was happening, he needed lots of rubber bands.

And glow sticks.

~~~~~~~~~

This is what I swept up from under the dining room table tonight.

I know, right?!!

That apple still had a LOT of fruit left on the core!

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 102

2012-01-04T12:56:00.001-06:00

Work while you work.
This might just be our new motto for the year.
Or the week. Whichever comes first.

We're Baaaaack!

2011-12-30T20:08:00.001-06:00

Kind of sort of. Along with a blogging break I also took an unexpected picture taking break and everything else break. There's been a lot of good, bad and ugly in these parts. Oh boy, has there been a lot of ugly, but we are back. I think.

Let's just start off slow why don't we. I thought we'd start off with a little "what we are listening to now" post, to help get you out of your Christmas music rut, and into a random music rut. We are always here to help.

FIRST
Before you click play on this particular piece, you must turn the volume up to 11. Preferably on a really good set of speakers.

The husband brought this home and we first listened to it in the car with the speakers blaring. It was great. The kids will listen to the rest of it, begrudgingly, only after we listen to this part three times. OK, maybe four. Or five. Mikey calls it the fighting waves song.

SECOND
After Great Grandpa Livovich died, his son (Mike's Dad), (are you confused yet?) gave us some of his CD's. Great Grandma is deaf and has no use for the music. The husband has recent memories of sitting in a hospital room, holding great grandpa's hand, listening to Glen Miller, so he started playing it for the rest of us.

I know every single word of this song. We may have listened to it a couple of times.

We also borrowed "The Glenn Miller Story" from Mike's parents, and it was great. Starring Jimmy Stewart and June Allyson, it is full of 1950's gems, wholly unexplainable to the kids. Our other favorite?

I could listen to the Glenn Miller Band all day. And some days I have! Per the kid's request, of course. I'm nothing if not an indulgent mother.

THIRD
While I could listen to Glenn Miller all day, The Andrews Sisters not so much. Too syrupy. When we mix them in with other, less sweet tunes, they're quite enjoyable.

Beware: This song does bring up some uncomfortable topics. Things like, "Mom? What's 'pet'? Why are they mad about a girl who likes to pet?" Of course I answer their questions with a very honest and straightforward, "Let's ask your Papi when we get home." Works for me!

FOURTH
With thanks to Jalapeño Peppers, we've been enjoying the up to date Puppini Sisters quite a bit. Still lots of boogie, but a bit less syrup than the Andrew Sisters.

FIFTH
The Elia received an iPod for Christmas and she has been greatly enjoying having her own music on it. She's been listening to Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, Natalie Merchant and Cat Stevens. Oh, what will we do when she starts developing her own tastes?

This is one of her faves right now - and of course it has become ours, too.

SIXTH
Then we play these two really loud, so I don't go into diabetic shock from all the sweet music.

Both lots of fun.

What about you? What have you been listening too?

SEVENTH
Are you still with us? Did you shlog through the music? Did you skip the music entirely? It's ok. One last gem just in case I was becoming vain:

Papi (singing): I've got a love-ly pair of coconuts... (you know, from Gnomeo and Juliet)

Mikey: Mama's got a HUUUGE pair of coconuts!

Elia: Mikey, you don't know what a coconut is.

Deli: Yes, they are big, and mama has them thiiiis big, and they drop down low....

Elia (with a sigh and an eye roll): No, Del. Coconuts are big, brown, hairy balls!

Oh man, the Papi and I were laughing so hard by the end of this conversation. Time to close the door while I dress, methinks.

A Break

2011-12-05T10:06:00.001-06:00

The blog is going to go dark for a while. Maybe through Christmas. I just need a little break.

Wishing you a peaceful Advent and a joyful Christmas.

On a lighter note

2011-12-01T06:00:00.000-06:00

How we cook right now.

How do you cook?

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 101

2011-11-30T07:45:00.001-06:00

Turtle Toward Bethlehem

Norma Farber

I'm slow as molasses

That's me, that's my nature.

From every last creature

Bethlehem -bound who passes,

I'm begging for a lift.

Lion sweeps by,

Lamb right beside him.

Camel comes loping.

I holler. I'm hoping

he'll ask me to ride him.

Please get me to the manger on time!

I need to be there

while the baby's still new.

Next summer won't do.

He's in the stable today.

Tomorrow who knows?

Amazing how fast

an infant grows.

Please get me to the stable on time!

Hello Ram, with horns in your bonnet.

How tempting your back!

I wish I was on it.

Please get me to the manger on time!

Galumphing Baboon.

Big Bull, Brown Beaver, Cinnamon Bear.

Not none with a second to spare --

not Cony, not Coon.

Who are these three?

They're Kings! They're stopping. And stooping. For me?

I'm getting to the manger on time!

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

While waiting in the back of the church for girls in their Christmas Choir practice last night, the boys and I read When It Snowed That Night, a series of poems about the Christ child being born and all the imagined characters around him. Cute, whimsical little poems, accompanied by cute, whimsical drawings. It didn't keep their attention much longer than the time it took me to read the poetry, but it was a sweet diversion from using the pews as a jungle gym as my antsy boys waited (im)patiently for their sisters to be done.

This is the closest I'll come to publicly admitting that I am struggling. Struggling, dear ones. While Mom and then my sister's family were here, I could forget in all the busyness and traveling my inner thoughts. While in Pennsylvania it was easy to become wrapped in the happiness of seeing long missed family. But on my way home, it was just me, the kids and my thoughts. I was feeling so weighed down with all the people I know, dear to me who are hurting. I was wondering how to help them. How do I lift them up? How do I save the world? I spent time thinking up new directions to go, new ways to help those around me, different ways to reach out and show love. Through my love and my actions alone I would help them all! Of course.

Something happened, though. We came home and through a series of incidents, both large and small, most of them my own doing, I was forced to confront the fact that it isn't me who can save the world. It isn't me who can make the people I love feel better. It is, in fact, me who needs help.

It is me who needs saving.

All I can do is fall to my knees and beg, "Lord have mercy on me." Not on that person there, not on the other person who seems to be worse off than us, not on my loved ones who need His grace.

No, Lord have mercy on me. Because what I can do for those around me is directly related to what God has done in me. What I have allowed him to do in me. His saving grace is the only thing I can focus on right now. I can't change the world. I can't even change myself.

Right now it is hard. I feel like that turtle. I need to jump on some one's back and have them take me to that manger. Not because I am so excited and moving too slowly, but because I am moving too slowly and am lacking the strength to make it on my own. So pray for me, for us, will you? Lift me on your back in prayer, carry me along to the manger. Lord have mercy.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 100

2011-11-21T22:40:00.001-06:00

In Memory of

Michael Peter Livovich Sr.

1921-2011

And Death Shall Have No Dominion

BY DYLAN THOMAS

And death shall have no dominion.

Dead men naked they shall be one

With the man in the wind and the west moon;

When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,

They shall have stars at elbow and foot;

Though they go mad they shall be sane,

Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;

Though lovers be lost love shall not;

And death shall have no dominion.

Under the windings of the sea

They lying long shall not die windily;

Twisting on racks when sinews give way,

Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;

Faith in their hands shall snap in two,

And the unicorn evils run them through;

Split all ends up they shan’t crack;

And death shall have no dominion.

No more may gulls cry at their ears

Or waves break loud on the seashores;

Where blew a flower may a flower no more

Lift its head to the blows of the rain;

Though they be mad and dead as nails,

Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;

Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,

And death shall have no dominion.

Guess who's allergic to cats?

2011-11-19T22:14:00.001-06:00

Seven Quick (Duct) Takes

2011-11-11T20:59:00.001-06:00

What can you make with duct tape? Lots of things.

So this birthday boy likes to make stuff out of duct tape.

I found this out while shopping with his mom - she bought him duct tape, so I did too!

He made:

#1 tie for Mikey

#2 tie for Del

#3 tie for himself

They wore these ties to the big boys' Veteran's Day concert at school. Those big boys were so super ~~embarrassed~~ excited to see the group of little people, Grandma, Mom and Aunt Krissy traipse into the auditorium. There was some waving, and some, "Mom! I see Jesse! I see Aus! There's Jeffery! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi Jesse! Hi Austin! Hi Jeffery! Hi!Hi!Hi!"

You know the part at every single Veteran's event where they play the songs of each branch of the military and as each song is played the vets from that branch stand up? Gets me. Every time.

He made:

#4 A Wallet A duct tape wallet, which sounds cool. And it is. This boy just comes up with stuff. I'm not going to say anything about his deep dimples on his cheeks, or his sweet smile, or his long eyelashes and beautiful eyes because he's 11 now and would be embarrassed by that kind of gushing. Instead I'll tell you how impressed I was by his wallet making, and his skill at coming up with #5 new to us medieval weapons made only from screws and duct tape and his kindness to my boys when he outfitted them in ties.

Hi wallet was cool, we even borrowed some money for the photo shoot, but my picture didn't turn out. I'm pretty sure the money made it back to the lender's wallet - big boys you should check your twenties, just to be sure!

He also made:

#6 a new hat He noticed many of the caps the men at the Veteran's Day service were wearing and needed one for himself. I can't vouch for the accuracy of the decorations, maybe if he added a U.S. it would be more realistic.

Duct tape.

#7 a BIG THANK YOU to all the Veterans we know and love.

and thank you to Jen for hosting.

Superman at St. Peter's Village

2011-11-10T16:51:00.001-06:00

November 9th and we were hiking in t-shirts through the trees, faster than falling boulders,

higher than sleeping snakes in the rocks

and sweeter than a boxful of sugar daddies.

We had a lovely time exploring and jumping from boulder to boulder,

doing our best not to fall in the water.

Superman posed sternly with the cutest little cupcake around.

There were a whole variety of wild animal poses.

When asked to pose for this picture Mikey excitedly told Quincy that they should be cheetahs.

Quino looked bemused and answered, "OK, you do that buddy."

There were also some gorillas, and somewhere along the way a mountain goat.

Oops! Caught the Man of Steel fetching a bat from the cave!

No I wasn't... I was, uh, posing. Yeah, that's it, posing.

A super day with a super group of family.

Still in Pennsylvania

2011-11-09T15:42:00.000-06:00

We took a tour of Herr's Potato Chip Factory and it was so much fun.

It was like a salty Wonka's chocolate factory with 19 different flavors of chip to choose from.

When our tour guide donned her hair net and walked out to the line, bringing back a plateful of hot, salty potato chips, we responded much like those bell trained dogs, eagerly salivating as the plate came our way.

There are almost as many flavors of cousins as there are chips!

I'm pretty sure we tried them all.

Ragin' Ranch, Sour Cream and Onion and Cheese Popcorn were some favorites.

Although I was partial to Buffalo Hot Wing with Blue cheese.

All that munchin' demanded some playin'.

Good thing there was a park near by.

We are so grateful for beautiful weather - the kids have been able to play outside for large chunks of the day, enjoying the weather and more importantly, enjoying each other.

And we haven't broken any yet.

We almost did.

But not yet.

Sorry, No Poetry Wednesday

2011-11-08T09:54:00.000-06:00

Just the poetry of some family time. It's been years - four, five? at least - since I've seen my second sister's family. We had the chance to come out to Pennsylvania and we grabbed it! We have been here since Friday and have enjoyed every minute of it. My kiddos love all their cousins. Some, *ahem, Del*, are a little more annoying in their love, but the cousins put up with him which is all we can hope for. His love is like a stinky, stinky rose, that one.

Yesterday we celebrated Calvin's 11th birthday. Eleven! This boy was just a little crawling baby when I got married, how can he now be eleven!?

The day started with some weight lifting,

followed by some treasure hunting - gum at the end, woo hoo!

There were breaks here and there for reading and crochet,

playing of cards,

and general shenanigans.

There were personal pizzas,

and a whole bunch of cookies.

Calvin enjoyed our singing of the Happy Birthday song, I think. At least I hope he did, we sang it at least three times that I was involved with.

It came time to blow out the candles and Calvin blew.... and blew.... and blew.....

until Aunt Bethie and I yelled "Just spit on them!" Joking, of course.

So Mikey obliged.

And spit on them.

We didn't mind.

Calvin opened his presents, although it was debatable whether Calvin opened, or Mikey opened, or Del opened. They are just so very helpful.

Happy Birthday, Calvin!

It was a joy to celebrate with you!

First day in Pennsylvania

2011-11-06T09:58:00.001-06:00

Here's hoping we don't break ALL the children.

How do you take your baths?

2011-11-02T23:01:00.002-05:00

Poetry Wednesday, Vol.100

2011-11-02T07:15:00.000-05:00

Matins
Louise Gluck

You want to know how I spend my time?
I walk the front lawn, pretending
to be weeding, on my knees, pulling
clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact
I'm looking for courage, for some evidence
my life will change, though
it takes forever, checking
each clump for the symbolic
leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already
the leaves turning, always the sick trees
going first, the dying turning
brilliant yellow, while a few dark birds perform
their curfew of music. You want to see my hands?
As empty now as at the first note.
Or was the point always
to continue without a sign?

You know it's falloween when...

2011-11-01T11:56:00.001-05:00

You find a nonplussed scarecrow hangin' out in your yard,

hooligans dressed in silly outfits run around demanding candy,

and the Sleepy Hollow legend actually, for real comes to life.

Happy Halloween everyone!

Hope all that candy doesn't give you a mummy ache.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 99

2011-10-26T08:29:00.000-05:00

We rushed home a day early from Michigan because we were tired of being without him and wanted to see him. His happy face as the kids greeted him at the door was well worth the surprise, even if he doesn't like surprises. I am happier with him, I am a better mother when we are together, more relaxed, nicer, more patient. In two weeks the kids and I will be heading out again for a week without him. While I am really looking forward to seeing my sister and her family, I'm not excited about a week without our Papi. He is the Coke of our family. Things go better with Papi.

What We Need is Here

Wendell Berry

Geese appear high over us,

pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,

as in love or sleep, holds

them to their way, clear

in the ancient faith: what we need

is here. And we pray, not

for new earth or heaven, but to be

quiet in heart, and in eye,

clear. What we need is here

*NOTE: if you would like to see pictures of our time in Michigan and all the fun we had there, just pop on over to my Mom's place and check us out!

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 98

2011-10-18T11:38:00.002-05:00

I type this post while sitting in the Traverse City Public Library, watching the boys play computer, the girls lost among the stacks, discovering new graphic novels and books never seen before. We are in Michigan for a week, having traveled up her to accompany Mom as she visits churches and women's bible studies and reconnects with supporters. We are also reconnecting with the land of my father's birth and younger years. We are staying with my Aunt and Uncle, driving by the old farm, stopping in on various family members.

It is strange to be here with my kids, without my husband, all grown up, yet still little Krissy. It is strange to be here where my Dad is so very present and yet gone. We walk into the nursing home to visit Gram and there on the wall is an 8x10 portrait of my father. I walk into my Aunt's office and see the same 8x10 framed on a shelf. I would imagine if I entered any family member's house in the area I would see the same picture repeated, the only change being the type of frame and placement on a wall or shelf. I forget that there are other people who miss him besides my immediate family.

This visit reminds me again of how much we lost when we lost Dad. And of how much we gained by having him as a father. We lost his sense of humor, his scary stories, his guitar and songs. We lost his guidance and deep love for all of us, his willingness to drive anywhere and fly any place to show us not just his love, but his deep love of Christ. We gained a crazy family. And I mean crazy. The Hannas are a hillbilly world apart. Even those more "normal" "citified" Hannas are from another world. We gained a family that hunts, fishes, traps, and loves each other deeply while at the same time keeping each other at arm's length 'cause they can't stand each other.

In ways even though Mom, my brother and sisters and I suffered the greatest loss, we have also been allowed to move past our loss into our happy memories and joyful hope for a future reunion. It's not so easy for the Traverse City branch of the family, where Dad is ever present to them as a child and a son, forever frozen in that 8x10. Every corner, every stop has a memory for me, a person who never lived here and visits rarely, one I struggle to capture and put voice to for my children. How heavy must the memories be for someone who has never left?

It has been a good visit. A bit stressful. We are staying with my uncle, the uncle who completely terrified me growing up. I'm still nervous around him. He's old and grumpy and hard of hearing. The kids can't figure him out. They can't tell when he's joking and when he is actually for real getting after them. It falls on me to translate this Michigan speak into our normal vernacular. I have to watch for the glint in my uncle's eye which means he's had enough kid noise and things need to get quiet fast. He's usually had enough after oh, five minutes or so.

It has been good, though. Yesterday he took the girls to buy them each their very own two gallon jar of pickles. The boys should have a turn sometime this week. We have been enjoying the hot tub morning and night. Yesterday we made forts out in the woods - Uncle Ed said he scared the bear off last year and they haven't seen him this year, so we shouldn't have any problems. Which is why I don't let the kids go out alone where I can't see them. Call me city, but I don't trust the woods.

You won't see much from us the rest of the week, we have no internet connection out at the house. I hope you all have a peaceful week. Hug your loved ones tight and avoid the bears.

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

Ways of Talking

BY HA JIN

We used to like talking about grief

Our journals and letters were packed

with losses, complaints, and sorrows.

Even if there was no grief

we wouldn’t stop lamenting

as though longing for the charm

of a distressed face.

Then we couldn’t help expressing grief

So many things descended without warning:

labor wasted, loves lost, houses gone,

marriages broken, friends estranged,

ambitions worn away by immediate needs.

Words lined up in our throats

for a good whining.

Grief seemed like an endless river—

the only immortal flow of life.

After losing a land and then giving up a tongue,

we stopped talking of grief

Smiles began to brighten our faces.

We laugh a lot, at our own mess.

Things become beautiful,

even hailstones in the strawberry fields.

while I was trying to escape, they had this conversation

2011-10-13T04:00:00.000-05:00

Mikey: Mom? Mom? MooooOOoooOOoom!!

Papi: Mikey, what do you want?

Mikey: Um..... Papi? Isn't Mami the boss of the kitchen? .........Then I think I should ask her.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 97

2011-10-11T22:46:00.000-05:00

I don't even know who I am anymore. I'm typing this on my new-as-of-a-couple-months-ago mac. When I finish this post, I'll go to bed and read a big, heavy book in bed. Only it won't be so very big or very heavy, because I will be reading it on a Kindle. On our Wisconsin Dells trip there was a company dinner and they raffle off odd prizes, and the odd prize we won was a Kindle. A Kindle! This family that devours books, folding back the covers, writing in the margins, dog ear-ing the pages, now owns a Kindle.

And I love it.

We do quite a few home school lessons with the Kindle, I check out library books, and well that's it so far, but boy do we like it. I also have a fancy phone, the kind that gets email and internet. No, not an iPhone (just tried to spell that with a capital I, shows exactly how tech savvy I am), but fancy enough.

There was a time not too long ago when we had none of these gadgets. In fact we took great pride, some might even say we reveled in our gadget-less existence. Luddites? Yes, us. Now we are different people. Some days it is difficult to pry my nose out of my many gadgets. Some days it is difficult to look up and see the lovely golden color cast over our back yard by the neighbor's tree. I look out front and wonder when the mums began to flower, and didn't we just have tomatoes planted there?

Last night I was attempting to find some pictures of a baby Josie for Mom and had to wonder, wasn't she that little just yesterday? When did her cheeks lose their chub?

Then I remember that it is actually 2011. Not two years ago, three, even four. It is now. Put down the gadget. Look at them now. Those cheeks are still chubbly. I just have to look.

FALL SONG

Mary Oliver

Another year gone, leaving everywhere

its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,

the uneaten fruits crumbling damply

in the shadows, unmattering back

from the particular island

of this summer, this Now, that now is nowhere

except underfoot, moldering

in that black subterranean castle

of unobservable mysteries - roots and sealed seeds

and the wanderings of water. This

I try to remember when time's measure

painfully chafes, for instance when autumn

flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing

to stay - how everything lives, shifting

from one bright vision to another, forever

in these momentary pastures.

Too much

2011-10-10T22:16:00.001-05:00

It's a good thing Abuela has a camera and a blog, or you would never find out what's happening in these parts. Fun. That's what's happening.

Museums, ice cream, eating out with friends, last visits to the beach before winter, and plenty in between.

The good news is that I did find my camera. Good news indeed or you would have faced a future of nothing but my deep thoughts. The horror. The bad news is that I have been absolutely terrible at taking pictures and then transferring them to a computer. No time for cameras, we've got plans! Mom's gonna make me a new skirt and a new cushion for the bench, and bags for toys and games, and clean the art room, and, what's that? She's not my slave? Oh, don't worry, we give her breaks. We let her take us out for dinner.

What's that? Not good enough? We also let her take us places for birthday treats, and soon she'll take us out for ice cream at Sherman's on our way to Traverse City. See? We do lots for Mom. We give her our deep and undying gratitude. And appreciation. And love. And thank you's. Thank you Mom!

Monkey in the middle, that's what's happening.
That monkey had to work hard to stay in the middle.

We visited a wind farm in middle Indiana, which was enlightening. Our favorite part? Writing on a turbine blade. As we left the building after the beginning talk, I glanced over at a blade parked to the right of the building and felt sad that so many people had defaced this giant blade. As I was thinking this our guide pulled out a handful of sharpies and told the kids to have at it. And have they did.

These turbines are amazing in person. At over 200 feet tall, you find yourself almost falling backward as you crane your head back for a view.

The kids were duly impressed.

I will do better at pictures. Promise.

Until I don't.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 96

2011-10-04T23:25:00.000-05:00

Arithmetic

Carl Sandburg

Arithmetic is where numbers fly like pigeons in and out of your
head.
Arithmetic tells you how many you lose or win if you know how
many you had before you lost or won.
Arithmetic is seven eleven all good children go to heaven - or five
six bundle of sticks.
Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand
to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer.
Arithmetic is where the answer is right and everything is nice and
you can look out of the window and see the blue sky - or the
answer is wrong and you have to start all over and try again
and see how it comes out this time.
If you take a number and double it and double it again and then
double it a few more times, the number gets bigger and bigger
and goes higher and higher and only arithmetic can tell you
what the number is when you decide to quit doubling.
Arithmetic is where you have to multiply - and you carry the
multiplication table in your head and hope you won't lose it.
If you have two animal crackers, one good and one bad, and you
eat one and a striped zebra with streaks all over him eats the
other, how many animal crackers will you have if somebody
offers you five six seven and you say No no no and you say
Nay nay nay and you say Nix nix nix?
If you ask your mother for one fried egg for breakfast and she
gives you two fried eggs and you eat both of them, who is
better in arithmetic, you or your mother?

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

We are full into school, and if there girls were pressed to choose their least favorite subject it would be the one above. We have been plugging away, though. It helps ever so much that on Thursdays they head over to Miss Mary's house and have a day of Math and Science with two of their dear friends. Elia told me last week, "you know, I might even like Math!". There is hope after all.

We have been busy, busy with Abuela. We hit a museum last week and went apple picking today. This week will involve apple processing and a whole lot of outdoor fun as we attempt to enjoy some of the last few warm days of the year. My Mom was unable to be with the kids for their birthdays but this year she sent them each a "Birthday Gram" with the promise of an activity of their choice when she arrived. Today was Elia's turn and she chose lunch at Tonya's for her birthday treat. You can see pictures at Mom's. Mikey's turn will be on Thursday (we are pulling names out of a hat to see who goes when, saves us from arguing). He wanted Abuela to buy him 30 bags of gummy worms, and as good as an idea as that was, we talked him into doing, rather than buying. They are going bowling! And I am jealous, I love bowling!

Have a lovely fall day, friends.

Jesus

2011-10-02T20:18:00.001-05:00

Most of you read Pentimento. I had not really. I followed a link today and began perusing her older posts. Good, good stuff. Sunday's post made me think of Claire, especially, and her thoughts on the poor. Do you always feel as if you should put quotation marks around "the poor"? As if they are a category unto themselves? Are we being ironic, using air quotes? Aren't we all poor in a way, or do the quotes mean physically poor rather than spiritually poor? "The Poor" as opposed to poor people. Anyway.

Reading back in time along Pentimento's posts I discovered this gem. She was right. Just watch.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 95

2011-09-28T12:29:00.000-05:00

We are in the thick of it. Three weeks into school, we all are sick, we all (and I include myself here) are whiny and coughing. Abuela comes tomorrow, and I had really hoped to have a few projects done by the time she came, or at least I had hoped to not be sick! This week we have been taking it easy, minimal school work, lots of TV, tons of tea and orange juice, enough echinacia to give us all the squirts and plenty of eucalyptus infused baths.

Even without being sick though, I wake up feeling behind. This fall has been different for me because I have been attempting (attempting and attempting) to wake up early. Early enough to read or exercise, early enough to pray before the kiddos get up. I've been waking the girls up early so they can do their math and other school work before the boys wake up. The husband is an early riser, and every once in a while we are able to pray together if my rising attempts are successful. And by early riser, I mean 5 or 5:30. Who does that? What is wrong with him? But maybe that's what I need to do. Don't tell him though.

More often than not by 7:30 I find my pulse racing, my temper shortening and harsh words escaping my mouth. That's 7:30 AM by the way. As in the morning. There is just so much to do. And I don't even mean the every day tasks of laundry, food, school, friends, etc. It's the bigger stuff that needs doing. There is so much my kids need to learn, so many things they need to see and experience, and how can we possibly fit it into one day? One childhood? They're grumpy today and there is a lot of complaining about the teensy amounts of work I ask them to do, maybe I've failed as a mother all ready! We were going to read that book then do the project, but our museum membership is almost done and we need to go there, and now someone is biting someone and will he continue to do that when he's thirty and how will I teach them to love other people if they can't even love each other?

On the mornings that Mike and I are able to pray together, the day starts so much better. On the mornings I pray by myself things are better. Maybe there is something to that. Maybe I need to pray more than I need to sleep.

We haven't done anything good for anyone in so long! When will we ever be able to teach our children how to love the poor, how to give sacrificially, how to embrace Jesus in each person they meet? We can't even embrace each other half the time! I just yelled at Del and made him cry for being a boy and doing boy things. I just stomped around like a teenager because I was asked yet again for a snack. How will they ever grow up to be what I know they can be if I can't act like a grown up?

Stop.

Breathe.

Pray.

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

Morning Poem
by Mary Oliver

Every morning

the world

is created.

Under the orange

sticks of the sun

the heaped

ashes of the night

turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---

and the ponds appear

like black cloth

on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.

If it is your nature

to be happy

you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination

alighting everywhere.

And if your spirit

carries within it

the thorn

that is heavier than lead ---

if it's all you can do

to keep on trudging ---

there is still

somewhere deep within you

a beast shouting that the earth

is exactly what it wanted ---

each pond with its blazing lilies

is a prayer heard and answered

lavishly,

every morning,

whether or not

you have ever dared to be happy,

whether or not

you have ever dared to pray.

Heard at our house

2011-09-25T19:49:00.003-05:00

"...... it's like a swift kick to the rotten cupcake!"

Wha?

Seven Quick Takes - the Saturday edition

2011-09-24T10:11:00.000-05:00

When I told you I would be back, you thought it would be more often than once a week didn't you? Suckas!!

First - I lost my camera. It's been two weeks since I've seen the thing, where could it be? I've looked in all the usual places, but no luck. Has anyone seen my camera? 'Cause the enanos aren't getting any cuter, you know. In fact, as they grow, they begin growing strange bumps and weird tooth arrangements. I need a camera to document them before they get into that strange and awkward stage of life that is best left undocumented. I need that camera!

Second - Last Sunday we had friends over for dinner. New and Old friends. We had THIS lady and her family over. Hi Ruthie! It was so nice to see her again and to meet her husband and little boy. The baby had to stay home, she had a cold and needed to get better, so we didn't get to meet sweet Rowan, but we got 3/4 of the family. We knew Ruthie in highschool, actually, Mike knew her better, and she was friends with my brother. Interesting side note, she went to prom with my brother. Crazy, huh?

We had a really nice visit. Her husband Brian is just as awesome as she says on her blog, and Fletcher is adorable. Since Ruthie is vegetarian, I made pork loin for dinner. No joke. My brain apparently oozed out my ears and I decided the best thing to feed her was pork. There were vegetables, but really? Pork? Stupid, stupid, stupid. And then I tried to break her little boy by making the pork spicy. My advice? When cooking for guests, some of those guests being small children, don't pick the recipe that starts with "Take 8 ancho chilis...."

Next time you come over, Ruthie, we will make sure to serve something not spicy, like roasted baby rabbit, or rack of veal. Just kidding. I don't know how to cook veal.

Third - My camera is gone, but you can still see old pictures. Today is the second day of autumn, (happy fall everyone!) and we love fall, but I kind of miss these days.

We spent a lot of time on the beach this summer. And most of it was magical. I found it entirely possible to forget my grumps, the kids were able to stop whining, we just enjoyed being together. We spent many happy days at Aunt Barbara's beach (Miller), enjoying the long sandbar and the calm water.

We also spent time with friends at various beaches, I went to Porter beach for the first time in my life. I know, right? I've lived here how long and never been to Porter beach?! Now I have visited, and it was everything I dreamed it would be. Our favorite, though, continues to be Aunt Barbara's. It is quiet and empty and peaceful.

So now we will need to find new places to paint. I think there are some apple orchards, corn mazes, and yet more watershed visits in our future. We may be more bundled, but I hope we can recapture the calm, peaceful happy feeling of the beach. It's been a busy fall and I'm trying to catch my breath, as are the kids. We will be off to breathe and be together. If I could only find the camera, you could see us do it...

Fourth - We have a new mix in the car. The Papi makes us mix/tapes and we find one or two favorite songs on there and listen to them over and over and over and over and.... you get the picture. Our first favorite is this:

The girls love to belt along with with Sinead. Josie especially. I tried to explain the idea behind the song to them - you don't need to be a man's woman, you need to be God's woman, the Spirit is the one who will never let you down, blah, blah, blah - their eyes glazed over. Mom leave us alone, we just want to sing the chorus. Even Mikey loves it, although his version is more fun to listen to: "I don't wanna be no girls woman." Makes me smile every time.

Fifth - Our second favorite is this:

Deli adores this song. He sings along, waving his hands around. We listen to this song a lot. A LOT. And it's loud. REALLY LOUD.

Sixth - Abuela arrives on Thursday for a month long visit. You can go on over here and see what she looks like. Isn't she pretty and sweet? The picture was taken in her Moody days, I believe on her way to a banquet with Dad. He bought her those flowers at my favorite shop in the world, LaSalle Flowers. Small world, huh? Doesn't she look happy and in love? I love that picture. And you know what, she is just as beautiful today.

Anyway, Abuela flies in and we will hit the ground running. We have lots of plans for her and she has lots of plans for us. I don't know how we'll do all the school, playing, shopping, eating out and traveling that we have planned for the month without wearing out, but we will! Si se puede! Pray for our stamina, but you don't have to pray for our fun, cause we'll be having lots of that.

And Abuela, we'll find some new mix/tapes to listen to while you are with us. We might even turn down the volume a little. Do you like Hank the Cow Dog on audio?

Seventh - To help us rest and prepare for the marathon of fun to come, Mike's parents took our kiddos last night and will keep them for a couple of days. They'll return them sometime Sunday - sometime late, I hope! Just kidding! Not really. The kids will have tons of fun, I know, and Mike and I will rest and relax and maybe even go out for a movie. We get pretty crazy when the kids are gone. So I am off to hit the resale, an antique store, and maybe even grab a fancy pastry to go with my new book. Thanks, Mom and Dad L. for this lovely gift of time!

Have a wonderful weekend all of you!

And thanks for Jen for her Quick Takes.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 94

2011-09-21T19:54:00.000-05:00

Up - Hill

Christina G. Rossetti

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?

Yes, to the very end.

Will the day's journey take the whole long day?

From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?

A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?

Of labour you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

Yea, beds for all who come.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 93 (It's back, you lucky people!)

2011-09-13T22:37:00.002-05:00

Just a few moments ago I finished preparing my lesson for Wednesday's Co-op. I will be teaching the older kids tomorrow, and it kind of scares me. I know what to do with pre-schoolers. If it can't be fixed with a snack or a visit to the playground or the bathroom, then it can't be fixed. Same goes for lower elementary. But upper elementary? Thirteen year olds? Gulp, sixteen year olds? I just don't know.

My lesson will be on....... you guessed it, poetry. This week's lesson in Story of the World is partly on the Crimean War. The Charge of the Light Brigade came out of this war. Fascinating stuff. In my wanderings online, trying to figure out just what I would teach these children, I came across a recording of an original soldier in the war playing his bugle. I found very exciting resources on Lord Tennyson. And I found this. A good argument for why poetry is necessary, even today. Go and read, I'll wait.

All this to say we are back. Poetry Wednesday will begin again. It would be lovely if you could join in.

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

This last week has been a busy one. Between school, school prep, co-op, various classes, and how do we fit meal time and grocery shopping into the schedule?, it has been busy. I find it nice, necessary, even, to rest. In order to accomplish what must be done I need to do something frivolous. Sit and read a book. Take a nap with Del. Peruse Pinterest a little longer than necessary.

The pleasures are as much a part of our every day as the work. As necessary as the work, I would argue. For that reason I am making time for friends. I am reading inane superhero books to little boys. I am starting the next Game of Thrones book, even though it is much too long. I may or may not be starting it before I start the book club book. But I've already read that book, it's just review at this point. We are heading to the beach/park/museum. All worthwhile.

What small moments of sunlight are you enjoying this week?

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

The Word
by Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"
and "broccoli," you find
that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful. It touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent from someplace distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue,

but today you get a telegram
from the heart in exile,
proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them
who can find the time
to sit out in the sun and listen.

Idyll in the country

2011-09-12T22:10:00.001-05:00

A few weeks ago we spent a lovely afternoon at our favorite watershed. We go there quite a bit, it's perfect for any weather. In the spring we watch the flowers bloom, in the summer we play in the creek and enjoy the swallows nesting in the gazebo by the creek. In the fall the deer come out to fatten up before it gets too cold and in the winter we track the deer through the snow.

We take pic nicks to the watershed, or we just take a ball and some gloves. The girls have begun bringing books so they can read while we play (which reminds me, did anyone find a Westchester Public Library Garfield book? Grrrrr)

On one lovely Sunday afternoon, the girls read books, Mike and Mikey threw the ball and I wandered around taking pictures and enjoying the beauty of the day.

What is this scene I see before me?

Ah, a sweet little family on a hill, enjoying the last rays of the summer su- wait a minute. What is that little one on the left doing?

Is he?

Is he doing what I think he's doing?

Yup. He was.

Alive

2011-09-09T21:07:00.000-05:00

As in yes, we are still alive. You thought this was done, no more enanos. You thought no more silliness, no more poetry (I know that was your favorite part of this corner of cyberspace). Think no longer! We are back! What began as a couple days off, turned into a couple weeks, turned into a month. We just wanted to make you miss us.

Actually, I'm just tired. We've been running a lot, having too much fun, and we've been thinking deep thoughts, and anyone who knows me knows that I find deep thoughts exhausting. We are still thinking deep thoughts and we are still running like crazy, and I am definitely not rested, but we are back. I hope you missed us. I hope you are not rolling your eyes, wishing you knew how to remove us from your Google reader. Oh, the excitement that is in store for you.

On that note, I am tired. Deep, bone-weary tiredness. I should not even be up this late (8:30), but I just couldn't stay away from you. We started back to school this week and it has been good. There is the usual stress of planning and getting us scheduled. Somewhere in Mexico my mom just laughed - schedule? What schedule? We laugh in the face of a schedule! Sort of. This year I thought I would try waking the girls up at 6:30 so we could do math. We find math to be our most difficult subject and if left to our own devices would skip it each and every day. I thought that if we started our day with math, before the boys woke up, that we would get more done. We've managed to do it for a whole week! Can you believe it? Frankly I can't. I bribe the girls with tea, any kind they want, even black, and that seems to help. Josie is pretty grumpy but she eventually warms up. Elia is loving it. She is like her father. She loves having a task, a list to check off, and a clear set of instructions. Josie is a bit more fly by the seat of her pants. I don't know who she takes after.

So there is one reason for my tiredness.

We also started up with co-op this week, and that sucks a lot of energy from me. I love seeing friends, the kids really love seeing friends, I feel like they learn quite a bit, but it is exhausting.

And then we just have life. Life in general is kind of hard right now. Contrary to what you've read so far, I'm not trying for a pity party, just things are tiring. Those big existential questions that we all must go through at some point - What is the meaning of life? What is our special purpose in life? When will we find it? Why is God so quiet? Why can't anyone pick up after themselves I swear I am going to lose it if I have to pick up one more stinkin' ground up cracker.... - you know, that kind of stuff.

Otherwise life is good. It seems a contradiction, staying up late worrying, being tired, but knowing that life is good. We KNOW how many blessings we have. We KNOW that from beginning to end we are in God's loving hands. We KNOW that our teensy little life is good.

Good - Mikey is slooowly learning to read. Deli is loving his preschool books. The girls aren't as bored with my school plans as they thought they would be (insert a mama eye roll). We went to the Museum of Science and Industry today and on our way home stopped and bought flowers for a dear friend's wedding tomorrow. Speaking of the Museum, Del might be a genius. As we walked up to the entrance he said, "Mami, that building looks like the Pantheneon (Parthenon). ** Wait. Wha? **
I know, right?!! We should send him off to boarding school now before we dumb him down. More good - We get to see old friends (anyone want to send greetings to the Rev. Know-it-all?) tomorrow at the wedding. We are surrounded by dear friends in Indiana who keep us going, even if they don't know it.

And the best part of good? We are snuggled on a couch watching Peter Pan: the play. Yes, the live action play. Mikey chose it. He is just the sweetest little boy that ever climbed a door frame. He's been huddled on the couch, holding his teddy, eating popcorn and watching this show with rapt attention. I've been telling the kids that we were in the Peter Pan play in highschool. Their Papi was Smee! Their Uncle Kenny was John! And what were you, Mami? Ummm, Indian girl? But what was your name Mami? Indian girl #3. Tell us where you were in the play, Mami. I was in the background... supporting. I was very supportive. It was a very important part, you know.

On that note, I will leave you. We will catch up tomorrow. There is so much to catch up on!

Friday Night at the Livo's

2011-08-08T08:03:00.001-05:00

We have some crazy times at this house.

The party never stops.

The Josie is 7

2011-08-08T07:56:00.001-05:00

On Saturday we had a birthday party to celebrate the Josie turning 7 and the Deli turning 4. Saturday was Josie's actual birthay, and maybe just a month late for Del. The most surprising part of that sentence is that we celebrated a birthday on the birthday date. A rare occurence around these parts.

Of course, as seems to be happening a lot lately, my camera died too early, so there are very few photos.

Let's begin a few days before the birthday, shall we?
The kids decided to make their own pinata.
Well, the kids decided, but only one kid really did it.

Everyone except for the Elia decided that the paper mache mix was too goopy, too smelly,
and too much.
I agreed, but was conscripted.
The original plan was to make a chewbacca head, but we went with a beach ball.

Although it ended up looking like an easter egg.
Whatever it looked like, it didn't matter.
It was stuffed with candy, so it could have looked like a brown paper bag, for all the kids cared.

We ate a lot of good food. A LOT of good food.
Grandma made a super cute clown cake, I made some pies.
Josie wanted a blueberry pie shaped like Ariel.
I made a blue berry pie with a top crust made from cut out stars.
Close enough,right?

Happy birthday sweet Josie!

10 Years ago today

2011-08-04T17:35:00.000-05:00

Surrounded by our family and friends we said "I do" to a lifetime together. Thank you loved ones for supporting us along the way. Your love has made the hard times bearable (right now the husband is raising his eyebrows and making that face. Don't worry husband, there have been no hard times, I just say that so people won't be jealous of the eternal bliss that is our marriage. It wouldn't do to brag), and the good times extraordinary.

Encontre' mi media naranja.

Startin' the weekend right

2011-07-30T08:00:00.002-05:00

Step 1 - On Thursday, take a bowl full of strawberries, add a couple basil leaves and a splash of water. Puree. Pour into popsicle molds and place in the freezer.

Step 2 - On Saturday morning, nonchalantly hand the children popsicles for their first meal of the day.

Step 3 - Listen to your offspring squeal with the thrill of treats for breakfast!

Step 4 - Be awesome.

And now is ze time on Sprockets when we dance!

2011-07-29T12:48:00.000-05:00

On Tuesday the boys went to spend a couple days with their cousin Eli at Grandma and Grandpa's house. While they were gone I had big plans for all the things I would accomplish. And I got almost all of them done! I napped, slept late, made no real meals, had everyone eat on the living room floor picnic style 'cause the dining room table was too full of unfinished projects... it was awesome. Oh! And the girls and I took advantage of our entirely feminine household (while the Papi was gone at work, of course) and did some girly things. We went to the Porter County Fair. We were able to meet up with some friends there and had a fun, fun time. The girls had never been on rides before, and it had been a long time for me. I'm not sure who was more excited, them or me. I do love a fair. I learned some things, to boot.

I learned:

That I am still undecided which is scarier - creepy, skinny, druggy uncaring carnies, or skinny, tan, uncaring German teenagers running your rides. Not sure if it's a trend, but we found that the people running the rides were overwhelmingly teenage, overwhelmingly German and overwhelmingly didn't care/couldn't answer questions or explain rules. It gave every ride a delicious sense of danger. When I ask them how to adjust the seatbelt, will they reply, "liebe mein affe monkey!" Will they be able to help us when the whole thing falls apart? Will they know to call 911, or will they just break into a silent and sullen rendition of a Sprockets dance? Who knows and who cares! We're at the fair!

That Josie is a miniature me when it comes to rides. I think she's a mini me in a lot of ways, which may be why we clash quite a bit. I don't really look forward to her teenage years because I don't really want to deal with myself yet again as a teenager. There are aspects of the Joser's personality that drive me CRAZY. And you know what? They are the same things that drive me crazy in myself. But! Back to the fair! Josie rode every ride she could get on. She was nervous at first. We started with the Ferris Wheel and worked our way up to the Inverter. She couldn't get enough, anxious to try certain rides again and again. The centrifugal force ride? You know, the one where you lean against a wall and it spins faster and faster until you are pasted to the wall and the floor drops out from under you? Josie loved it. Six times she loved it.

I learned:

That I am old and my stomach cannot handle the centrifugal force ride. The Inverter? Yes. The one where you sit facing out and it goes high up in the air in a big ol' circle, much like the viking ship rides? I can do those. Anything that spins in a very fast circle makes me want to hurl. Ok. Actually makes me hurl. But just a little bit. Nothing large and dramatic. Just enough to be embarrassing. Walk it off, rinse your face, and muscle on. Because who cares if you puke?!! We're at the fair!

That Elia is very much like her Papi both in personality and in skepticism of fair rides. Maybe that's why Elia and I get along so well. I married her Papi, after all, so people who are like him are easy for me to deal with. She is gentle and kind and allows me to have my way... wait. Are we talking Elia or the husband? Moving on.... Back to the Fair! Too many times yesterday Elia looked at me with a face that said, Really?! Really?!! Do you really think I will like being strapped into a machine that turns me in fast circles while upside down and side ways? For a long time? Do I look like I want to do that? Really? In her defense, she did try quite a few rides. She started at the Ferris Wheel, just like Jose and me, and found she enjoyed the centrifugal force ride - just once - and loved the bumper cars. Her favorite, favorite ride was the Tilt-a-Whirl.

I learned:

That the imagination is a powerful thing. Ever since I was a child, what made fair rides so fun was that delicious sense of fear. All the creaks and pings and rusty chain noises were terrifying music to my ears. Each and every ride brought with it a sense that you might just die. Right Now. And who doesn't love that? We went on a "scary pirate" ride yesterday, that was not scary in the least. Unless of course you have read a a few too many horror stories and allow your imagination to wander in the land of the horrifying. We sat in our little car and slowly, sloooowly crept through the clanging metal doors into darkness. There was an overly loud tape playing sounds of chains and OoOOoOoos, and difficult to decipher mean sounding voices. But that was it. Nothing jumped out, nothing grabbed you, nothing dripped on you. There were a couple of moments when a red light came on, and I imagine something was supposed to happen, but this ride was tired. The monster mannequins were taking a break in the back room, smoking, drinking Diet Coke and telling stories about their rough mornings. They were not about to come running just because a red light lit up. Who do we think we are? But we didn't need mannequins. I had my imagination, which was plenty scary enough. And I might have grabbed the Elia tightly by the shoulder from behind, which brought out a scream. But don't tell her that, I blamed the spooky ride...

I didn't learn, I remembered, that my girls are a lot of fun to be with. If you remove us from the pressures of home and getting along with brothers, we relax. If you take Mama away from her chores and meal prep and facebook, she's actually a lot of fun. I learned that when we relax and just enjoy each other we have a great time. Maybe I can learn to relax and just enjoy my kids more often. Even without the fair.

Visit from Abuela

2011-07-21T18:53:00.001-05:00

We had quite the visit from Abuela last week! As you all know, she lives in Mexico. She came in for only a few short days, seven to be exact, not nearly enough time. But she had good reason for coming - aside from seeing us of course!

Abuela came up for the 50th anniversary celebration of Art and Marita Mikesell. The Mikesells are some of my parents' nearest and dearest friends. They figure into many, many memories of my growing up years. Uncle Art preaching, Aunt Marita chalk drawing, followed by Dad preaching, the three of them singing while Dad or Marita played accordion are big memories for me. Sometimes they would even manage to convince my mom to get up front and sing! Minor miracle, that. Of course not service, meeting, lunch date, visit, phone call, game night, really, anything, would be complete without Uncle Art presenting the Gospel and doing an altar call. Uncle Art is an old school missionary. And a dear, dear part of my parents' lives.

Of course Mom had to come up for the party!
And we went with her!
I did not take nearly enough pictures of Abuela's whirlwind visit, but she did! You can see all our shenanigans on her blog,
The Ice Cream Grandma.

Here is what I did get.
Crafting!
Crafting!

Abuela helped Elia work on her pom pom scarf, they made good headway!
Abuela also came right at cherry picking time, and she was game, so we headed out for cherries.

We had a lovely time filling buckets of glowing red fruit on a beautiful day. We went to same place we've been going for the last few years, and Lehman's did not disappoint. We picked over 50 pounds of cherries and I'm pretty sure we ate half that amount while picking!

While Abuela was here we traveled, we ate out, we played and swam. We picked blueberries, we made pie, jam and all kinds of other goodies. We packed A LOT into one week. It was a fun time, for sure.

Elia accompanied me to drop Abuela off at the airport, and we were all sad to see her go.
We were sad, but we for sure crashed when she left! We've spent the last two days doing nothing but swimming, eating and watching movies. It helps that it's too terribly hot outside to do much of anything else. So we are resting and recovering, I hope Abuela is doing the same!!

Now he is four

2011-07-20T22:12:00.001-05:00

We had a birthday boy living in this house recently.
He turned a big four.

This boy had not one, not two, but three days where the mail arrived with cards, envelopes and packages with his name on them.
He happily tore open envelopes filled with crisp dollar bills and boxes full of treasure.
And what treasures they were!

Great Aunt Becky sent a superhero t-shirt with just enough room to grow.
Yes, he did wear it for three days straight. And that was only because I made take it off to wash.

Uncle Dave and Aunt Katie sent over a pirate outfit.
The sword and hook may or may not have made some other children in this family jealous. Who doesn't want a hook for a hand?
The outfit came complete with earring, eye patch, chain necklace and hat.
The only thing it didn't come with was a belt and scabbard for the sword.

But Del made do.

Arrrrrr.

Huzzah!

2011-07-13T23:15:00.001-05:00

Did you know that we have the best children's librarians ever?
I mean EVER.
Not only do they offer a plethora of classes and programs during the year, but they outdo themselves each and every summer planning a fantastic reading program for our little readers.

Last Saturday we had the pleasure of attending our library's big summer party in honor of the summer reading program. This year's theme is Dragon Days & Summer Knights. All things medieval. We have been reading books on knights, kings, queens, strange medical concoctions, superstitions, the medieval church and cities. You name it, we've read it.

So of course we were delighted to see, in Chesterton's very own gazebo park, a giant, authentic, medieval bouncy castle!
Olly, olly, olly! Oy! Oy! Oy!

Dressed as a jester, a brave knight of Zorroland and princess Ariel, along with Elia and me (dressed as ourselves - spoilsports) we made our way through the sights and sounds of an authentic medieval faire with an "e". We saw medieval birds, made robin hood hats, had our faces painted, saw some jousting, talked to dragons, ate some popcorn, listened to dramatic readings of the pied piper, and in general had a merry olde English tyme. It was "the best fair ever"! According to my excited kids.

You know what I thought was the best part of the fair?

When we played Hunker Hauser.

Hunker Hauser is a sort of tug-of-war involving two contestants. Each contestant stands on a wooden block and at the word GO begins to pull on his end of the rope. The object of the game is to have your opponent either drop their end of the rope or lose his balance and fall off the block. More than strength, it is a game of skill and outwitting your opponent. Although it never hurts to have some strength in your corner. Not too hard, right?

The Deli won.
The big guy was tired, clearly.
Or maybe he was afraid of clowns?

If Frida and Harpo had a baby

2011-07-10T19:22:00.001-05:00

he would look something like this.

And he would be turning four today.
Happy Birthday to our crazy big Deli pickle!!

Friday night pizza

2011-07-08T21:47:00.001-05:00

It's been a long, busy week here in Enanoslivoland (say that five times fast). Tomorrow and Sunday hold little rest, but much celebration. Tomorrow is a big medieval faire-with-an-e in our town center, put on by the library for the children's summer reading program. With sword fighting, animals, crafts, knights in armor, jousting and a catapult, it promises to be a good time. On Sunday we head to Kokomo to celebrate Mike's sister and her husband's 15th wedding anniversary. They will renew their vows at Mass, then we will eat, eat, eat and have a good time. Congratulations Crista and Chad!!

Today I delivered a lovely bunch of flowers for a beautiful bride and groom. Elia came along as my helper, cutest helper around.
There was plenty more that happened this week, and we are ever so grateful to God for his care and protection for ourselves and for our loved ones. God is good, all the time.

Tonight we are tired.

The husband grew up with Friday night pizza or Lincoln subs at the beach.
They would arrive just in time to linger and watch the sunset.

I grew up with Friday night tamales -mmmm rajas con queso. We'd go to this little store front in Puebla, I don't remember the name, and we would all choose our favorites. Mom and Dad usually had mole, I don't remember what my sisters chose, Kenny always chose the sweet tamal with pudding and either pineapple or raisins in it, which I thought was disgusting, and I always chose rajas con queso, or tamal rojo. I can almost taste them now. Oh, they were good.

Not often enough in the summer do we find ourselves at the beach. Promising the children that "the faster you eat, the faster we head down to the water", we pass out paper napkins, scarf down our food and try not to leave a mess behind. We clean our picnick table, take off our flip flops and head down the stairs to the sand and water.

Don't let these pictures fool you, the water was cold.
Liquid ice cold.
I dipped my toes in, and the husband got in up to his knees, but that's only because one of the kids was drowning.
Three guesses who, and if you guess Elia, Josie, or Mikey, you are wrong. Oh, that boy.

Not all of us swam.

The girl comes by her love of reading honestly. Both her father and her mother are never found far from a book. If I had a nickel for every picture my parents took of me with a book in hand, well, I'd probably be up to a buck twenty. She's a reader, the Elia is. Even Josie loves to read. She claims to hate it, but she spends a good chunk of her day hunkered down in the porch, nose in a book. If that's hate, then keep on hating, little girl.

So my kids are growing up much the same way their Papi did. Not bad.

Although I still wish there were a good tamal place around here. I could go for a rajas con queso right about now.

Flower Time

2011-07-08T08:08:00.002-05:00

Free Flower Saturday right now.

No time for love, Dr. Jones!

2011-07-07T22:56:00.000-05:00

We've been pretty busy lately! Lots of things happening!

Head over here to see one of those things.

We have a new computer and I am learning the lay of the land. We have some travels coming up this weekend, so things might be pretty light for a couple of days.

I'll be back soon, folks!

It's been raining pretty hard

2011-07-04T22:14:00.001-05:00

So we're loading up the ark.

It burns

2011-06-30T12:36:00.001-05:00

You, dear reader are about to witness a moment in the life of the Del child. Small though he may be, his mental gymnastics are boundless.

Del (lifting his dinner plate): This is my body....

Mama looks on at the cuteness.

Del (lifting his cup): This is my blood....

Del takes a drink while Mama continues to marvel at her sweet boy. But suddenly! That Sweet boy is clutching his neck and gasping and gagging and choking for air!

Mama: Deli! Are you ok?! What's wrong?!!

Del (in a raspy, choked voice): I........Am...... A....... Vampire!!! (death rattle, he falls over dead)

And scene.

Her shirt says SublimI'mAwesomeinal

2011-06-29T10:59:00.002-05:00

And she is awesome. She's super helpful, a great reader, even keeled and happy. She just recently learned how to swim short distances under water, thanks to her "magic goggles" and is fearless on her scooter. She loves staying up late and more often than not she will appear deep into the night, after all the brothers and sisters have fallen asleep, wrapped in her blanket and asking if she can stay up with us. "I just can't sleep.", she says. And more often than not, we let her. She still doesn't mind being called Smellia, and claims it won't bother her even when she's a teenager. We'll see about that. She's a cool kid, the Smells.

I don't want to be like you.

2011-06-27T16:01:00.000-05:00

I just want to belong to you.

This past week my friend, Shannon, and I took our children camping in southwest Michigan. We set out on Thursday under cloudy, threatening skies, hoping for the best. There was some talk of postponing the trip, but finding another three day space this summer just wouldn't happen, so we set out. Our husbands, left at home to work, shook their heads at their crazy wives and agreed to join us on Friday. Maybe.

It started out cold, and drizzly and windy. The playground, right next to our campsites (the reason I had chosen said sites) was nothing but a giant patch of sand with a single, sad, solitary monkey bar set. Less than ideal conditions. The kids? Loved it. Lu-hu-hu-huved it.

This is what they did the entire weekend.

They took one look at that giant patch of sand and turned into dirty, feral digging machines. There was a water source near by, which meant they could dig moats and make sand castles and get completely filthy in general. Oh, we took breaks for eating and snacking, walking to the beach, eating and snacking some more, but the sand called them back again and again.

Thursday night was cold and windy. I slept with all the older kids in my tent, Shannon had baby Molly in her tent. With the storm our tent shook and rattled, buffeted by the wind. I woke quite a few times, wondering when the kids would start crying, when I would have to walk a terrified Aiden and Bailey in the rain over to their mama's tent. But they slept through. Josie woke up around three a.m. Scared in the storm? No. She wanted to sleep next to Bailey. With my Josie, it's never a simple matter of just getting up and stepping over the child that is currently sleeping next to Bailey, so she can scooch herself in. No with my sweet Josie, it means she needs my help and things aren't right, and the blankets are weird, and Mikey is touching me, and now I'm whining....... and then Mama says "just stay in your spot Jose, you'll play with Bailey tomorrow. This is too much. Too much. Just go to sleep." Not the answer Josie wanted. So there was a long bout of crying and whining, but that was the worst of our weekend.

Friday dawned gray and wet and miserable. Shannon and I sat in the front seat of my van while the ruffians played in the back, relishing the warmth and dryness a car could afford. We thought of going home. We tested the idea with the children. Surely they were wet and miserable and cold as well? NO!!! The were having a great time! Don't make them go home!

So we stayed.

The husband had his notion that I am crazy confirmed for the seven hundredth time when I called to tell him we are staying. The kids are having fun, I said, we can't make them leave. Truth be told, even though I was miserable and wet and cold, I was having fun too.

Our husbands joined us that night. We ate hot dogs and s'mores and brown bears under the stars, stayed up entirely too late talking and woke up (I really can't say refreshed) to a beautiful day. The rain and the clouds had disappeared, leaving a perfect summer day in their wake. We all hiked down to the beach and enjoyed our last day camping. All in all a good weekend.

Growing up, we were always far from blood relatives. My grandparents lived in Missouri and Michigan, my various aunts, uncles and cousins scattered throughout the world. We didn't have family close by, but we managed to put together a motley assortment of family members. The missionaries in CAM were my many aunts and uncles, their children my cousins. Some of my dearest friends are from the churches I grew up in. I consider many of them to be closer than blood.

We all want to be different. Doesn't the saying go "You are unique and special..... just like everybody else."? I know I don't want to be "normal". I don't want to fit in and blend in to everyone else. At our co-op this spring, one of the little girls was having trouble remembering my name and referred to me as, "the mom with the pretty skirts". Fine with me! I like being myself.

But I also want to belong. The trouble I have with the U S is this idea that you must be like the people in your group in order to belong to them. The only group I am like is the missionary kid group, and even then we vary. But I belong to them.

Living here in the States - actually, Chesterton is the longest I've lived anywhere! - I've found it hard to find a group I belong to. I don't want be just like everyone else. I do want to be with them. It would be nice if they wanted me, too. I can fit in, sure, but I want my heart to feel like it belongs. I want to be at rest, not worried of what they will think of me if I deviate from the norm. Of course we have all of the husband's family in the area, and we belong to them. They love us very much, as we love them. My side of the family is far away, though. The people I belong to are scattered from Mexico to Texas to Pennsylvania. So I've had to find my own family, my own group here in Cheesetown.

I'm not like Shannon in many ways, and she's not like me. But I feel like I belong.
Our kids love each other so much, it's sweet to see. I can't think of a better family to be miserable, and cold, and wet with. This is what I thought as I drove home on Saturday. I belong.

we survived

2011-06-23T08:39:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was my birthday.
It was a lovely day from the breakfast in bed beginning, to the going out to eat end. That pretty much sums up what I want for my birthday. I don't want to cook. Normally I enjoy cooking very much, but you know how sometimes you get in a rut and you just can't think of a meal beyond crackers, peanut butter and fruit? That is how it's been around here. Anyway, birthday! The children made me some amazing presents, the husband, being a good husband, wished he could have done more, when in actuality he did great. It was a wonderful day.

The picture above is of me going home from the hospital. My oldest sister, Beth, is holding me, with my next oldest sister, Kim, looking on. You are right. There are no car seats. In that picture I am only days old. You are also right. There are no seats to speak of in that van, and my newborn self is being entrusted to a 9 and 8 year old. But you know what? We survived. And beautifully.

Instead of inspiring horror, this kind of picture just makes me happy. And it makes me worry less for my own kids. My parents did their very best with what they had and we all turned out fine. I'll do the very best with what I have and my kids will turn out fine. With the grace of God and a loving family, we will survive and we will thrive.

We are now heading out camping with friends where hopefully our children will do something dangerous and hopefully they will survive.
Have a wonderful weekend, all of you!

summer

2011-06-21T16:58:00.001-05:00

Today is the first day of summer. I love the first day of summer. I get so excited thinking that today, today! is the longest day of the year. Every year I tell the husband that we need to have a party. We should grill, invite friends, have water balloon fights, drink summery cocktails and stay up late. Every year he agrees and every year we get distracted and the party doesn't happen. It isn't happening this year.

Summer just feels so short in the Midwest. Today is really the wrong day to write about a short summer, seeing as how today is muggy and hot. It's gross and sticky in our house. The humidity brings out all the smells that lie dormant in the floorboards and cracks. All the crumbs that fall under the dining room table become meltier and stickier. We have a/c, but we've had such a cool wet spring that I hesitate to turn it on. We should enjoy the heat, right? Why complain about something we spend 6 months a year longing for?

In an effort to truly enjoy this summer the kids and I wrote out a big, long list. Under the heading of

"Livo Summer 2011" we have about 8 feet of fun things to do. Some are small - take walks - some are bigger - go to the Drive In - but all are achievable. There was some guidance on my part. Especially when Josie yelled out, "Go to Mexico!" . Oh, I wish we could. Wouldn't that be a great summer? Even though we are making steady progress checking items off the list, I feel a sense of urgency. Have fun! Eat! Pick fruit! Play! Relax! Hurry up and do it all!

Last Friday we went as a family to pick strawberries (check that off the list). We found an organic strawberry farm in Michigan City, and believe it or not, the price was right. With this rainy, cold spring the farm was overrun with weeds and mosquitoes. Picking was slim, the workers were disgruntled (you would be too, if all your customers were grumbling about the crop), but we had a nice time. The kids started out strong, although they quickly succumbed to the heat, the mosquitoes, and the prickly weeds. We cheered them on with a rousing rendition of Great is Thy Faithfulness (you really should have Mikey sing it for you, too cute) followed by musical whiplash of Hey Good Lookin'. Once the singing was over, the kids were done.

We had picked just enough for one batch of jam, a couple strawberry rhubarb tarts and some eating. Del had worked hard to fill his own little quart of strawberries. He refused to pour it into the big basket with the rest of ours. He insisted that he would eat all those strawberries all by himself.

Of course he did. He sat on our front steps and plowed through that box, humming to himself the whole time. He littered the front steps with strawberry tops and drops of red juice.

He ate summer.

This is what I want to do this year. Even if the house is sticky and stinky. Even when we are tired and whiny. I want to enjoy every moment, even the hot and muggy ones.
I want to eat summer.

for next year's father

2011-06-18T22:27:00.001-05:00

I wish I had seen THIS sooner, I would totally have made one!

Happy Father's Day to all you dads!

2011-06-17T15:56:00.002-05:00

Are you going anywhere this weekend? Here are some of our favorite car ridin' songs.

1. If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out by Cat Stevens

Mikey is the cutest boy in the world when he sings along to this. It makes me smile every single time.

2. Car Song by Woodie Guthrie
The kids can't figure out how that man can make those noises.

3. Hey, Good Lookin' by Hank Williams
This is Josie's song. She sings along with gusto and just a little bit of a warble. A fairly decent imitation of Hank. It keeps your toes tapping and a smile on your face. We sang it today while picking strawberries, in fact!

4. Superman by REM
As you've already seen, this is Deli's song. Del love, love, loves Superman. We recently watched Superman: the Movie. You know, the REAL Superman with Christopher Reeve. Do you remember the scene where Superman first appears? There is this fantastic cloud of smoke/fog/Idon'tknowwhat, Clark Kent runs into it and Superman flies out of it, with much fanfare. Oh the squeals and shouts of joy when the man of steel appeared! Sheer joy!

5. You Are My Sunshine by Ray Charles

Ray Charles and Country. Best mix ever. We also like Busted - it regularly makes it into the mix as well.

6. Rox in the Box by The Decembrists

Elia's favorite! We've listened to this seven hundred and thirty billion times, if my count is correct. I may be off by a few dozen billion or so.

7. Delia's Gone by Johnny Cash
Yes, we like the morbid songs around these parts. But you can't argue with The Man in Black.

Bonus Track!

Rock Island Line by Johnny Cash
We do our best to sing along with Mr. Cash, and more often than not dissolve into tongue tied giggles.

Oh, why not, one more!

Uh Oh Love Comes to Town

Happy Driving, folks!!

Why I went to a Cubs game, even though I never watch them

2011-06-16T14:23:00.002-05:00

Cause it makes them happy


Cause I like tension


Cause I needed to find out definitively how to pronounce Fukudome.	I feel strange even writing that.

Cause singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame is fun.

Did I mention it makes them happy?

Until it doesn't.

Aw, ya bums!

do you want to know what I did with all these beauties?

2011-06-13T10:48:00.001-05:00

You'll find out soon.
A week and a half ago we had an amazing photo shoot with Beth from Beth Fletcher Photography.

Do you remember the giveaway she had? (which for some reason I cannot find the link to)

Well, I don't want to brag, but WE WON!! (trust me, there was a giveaway and we did legitimately win - because we all know "random.org" cannot be paid off. Believe me, I've tried. Multiple times.)

Anyway, you can get a sneak peek at what I made with these flowers and Beth's amazing photo skills right over here.
The nice thing is that this wonderful gift of a shoot came right when we began toying with going full steam ahead on my secret flower business. Oh, you didn't know I do flowers? No one does and I'm not going to talk about it.

And that's why it is a secret.

This business model has worked well for me, especially with Lois living with us. I could not manage everything at once. But now we are moving into a new chapter of our lives and the flowers are making more sense. Expect big things! Huge! Fantastic! Amazing! Or just pictures of flowers and my ramblings about them. What you can expect is that I will be dusting the cobwebs off the old Sugarfield blog and that my amazing husband will be trying his web design skillz out for the first time. In the very near future I will be offering some flower design/enjoyment classes, a brand new blog, some slightly less random posting, and just in general trying to be more open about my top secret business.

For starters, though, answer me this:
Would you prefer a Friday evening class or a Sunday evening class?

And then there were haircuts

2011-06-09T15:02:00.001-05:00

We started with a fairly decent Blago.

Stopped for a moment at toupee with lollipop.

Took a breather for some naked mirror gazing.

I can assure you the Papi was not also naked.
It just so happened I cut his hair as well, and he took his shirt off.
Or so we want you to think.

And we ended up with a young and spastic Dr. Spock.

I think I want my money back.

More!

2011-06-09T14:37:00.001-05:00

It's no secret around here that we have been loving The Sisters Grimm series. We are currently reading book seven - how many books are there? the husband asks - lots and lots. My sister told me about them and we can't get enough. We love fairy tales already, and these books are just plain fun.

The girls put on a play for us, you can see below Henry, Veronica, Sabrina, Daphne and Jake Grimm, preparing for something.
The something was difficult for the girls to agree on, there was some giggling, maybe a little whispering and a whole lot of eye rolling. We never did figure out what that "something" was.

At one point Josie laid her head on the footstool/stage and said, "This isn't a play, THIS is a disaster!"

The audience didn't seem to mind.

And last but not least,
we have discovered the perfect way to deal with the Deli boy when he is naughty.
We send him to the corner and tell him to think about his actions
and all of the implications they may have.

"how do you affect the world around you Del?"

It seems to be working.
Or maybe he's just scared out of his head.
Either way.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 93 (the nothing edition)

2011-06-08T15:02:00.003-05:00

I am sorry friends, but there is no poem today. Even though I feel as if we have been doing nothing, we have been very, very busy doing it. There is no poem, I have not been reading poetry, and the trusty husband has been busy with work, home and a new website for me.

I believe I will be taking a summer break from Poetry Wednesday. There may be a poem here or there tucked on this here blog, but no linky - for the moment. Please check out all the people on the side bar - they are faithful with their lovely poetry and thoughts on each individual poem.

We have plans for our future and plans for me, plans for kids and flowers. Some hints? Well, I'm pursuing flowers. I will be hosting a couple of classes this summer (details to come), we are working on website, marketing, and all that good stuff. The husband is figuring future schooling for himself, which of course affects our little family. What does the future hold? We don't know. But we step forward with faith that God will hold us and will catch us when we stumble.

Tomorrow expect a whole bunch of pictures catching you up on all our doings. I hope to jump back into this neglected little EnanosLivoLand with both feet. See you tomorrow!

I will be adding a linky today, please be sure and stop by each link!

why? how do you spend your days?

2011-06-06T13:27:00.002-05:00

I couldn't figure out how to make this shorter, so only watch what you want. There is no big pay off at the end.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 92

2011-06-01T08:51:00.001-05:00

We continue with the children's poems! I have some more serious poetry, I promise, but at the moment the kids and I are reading through old favorite books and discovering new favorite poems. One of our current favorites makes the kids smile, even if they don't understand all the words or the pun. Enjoy!

The Embarrasing Episode of Little Miss Muffet
Guy Wetmore Carryl

Little Miss Muffet discovered a tuffet,
(Which never occurred to the rest of us)
And, as 'twas a June day, and just about noonday,
She wanted to eat-like the best of us;
Her diet was whey, and I hasten to say
It is wholesome and people grow fat on it.
The spot being lonely, the lady not only
Discovered the tuffet, but sat on it.

A rivulet gabbled beside her and babbled,
As rivulets always are thought to do,
And dragon flies sported around and cavorted,
As poets say dragon flies ought to do;
When, glancing aside for a moment, she spied
A horrible sight that brought fear to her,
A hideous spider was sitting beside her,
And most unavoidable near to her!

Albeit unsightly, this creature politely
Said: "Madam, I earnestly vow to you,
I'm penitent that I did not bring my hat. I
should otherwise certainly bow to you."
Though anxious to please, he was so ill at ease
That he lost all his sense of propriety,
And grew so inept that he clumsily stept
In her plate-which is barred in Society.

This curious error completed her terror;
She shuddered, and growing much paler, not
Only left her tuffet, but dealt him a buffet
Which doubled him up in a sailor knot.
It should be explained that at this he was pained:
He cried: "I have vexed you, no doubt of it!
Your fist's like a truncheon." "You're still in my luncheon,"
Was all that she answered. "Get out of it!"

And the MORAL is this: Be it madam or miss
To whom you have something to say,
You are only absurd when you get in the curd,
But you're rude when you get in the whey!

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 91

2011-05-25T11:40:00.001-05:00

The kids and I really enjoy Scranimals by Jack Prelutsky. We recently rediscovered our torn and tattered copy, reading at odd times of the day. Last night we read it for a bed time story. I have to admit, when we first opened the book a couple years ago, I was less than excited about it. The poems and the ideas just didn't grab me. But the kids loved it. Every new animal was endlessly fascinating. They spent entire minutes drawing new variations of animal/fruit/vegetable hybrids. So we kept reading the book. And as it so often happens with Stockholm Syndrome I grew to love the book. Now I don't just read it, I actually enjoy it!

And next time we are at your house and you serve us radishes, you will understand why our pronunciation of the name is just a little off.

Jack Prelutsky

In the middle of the ocean
In the deep deep dark,
Dwells a monstrous apparition,
The detested RADISHARK.
It's an underwater nightmare
That you hope you never meet,
For it eats what it wants,
And it always wants to eat.

Its appalling, bulbous body
Is astonishingly red,
And its fangs are sharp and gleaming
In its huge and horrid head,
And the only thought it harbors
In its small but frightful mind,
Is to catch you and to bite you
On your belly and behind.

It is ruthless, it is brutal,
It swims swiftly, it swims far,
So it's guaranteed to find you
Almost anywhere you are.
If the RADISHARK is near you,
Pray the beast is fast asleep
In the middle of the ocean
In the dark dark deep.

Guess that song

2011-05-23T21:55:00.001-05:00

No really, guess.

heard you wrong

2011-05-23T09:17:00.000-05:00

I was reading Sisters Grimm to the kids and read the word "nincompoop". Everyone started laughing. Laughing hard. Del seemed especially affected by the funniness of the word. They laughed for a while, and while pausing to catch their collective breath, Del remarks,

"Ha! You said ninja poop!"

2011-05-20T21:42:00.001-05:00

He is looking at her, adoring, young and handsome. She is laughing and in love, so sweet and teeny and cute. They were so young.

My mom posted this as her picture on facebook and I thought it was just the sweetest, so I stole it. Okay, she sent it to me. But I put it on my blog first. It simply makes me happy to look at the two of them. What makes it cuter is that they are wearing matching shirts. I think she made them, am I right, Mom?

Right now we just pressed play on The Frisco Kid. I have a vague memory of watching it as a child in the living room with the family. I have no memory as to what it was about or if it was any good, but I have a sharp memory of Dad, in paroxysms of laughter, tears running down his face. With each new gag and one liner, Dad, in his chair, would reach greater levels of hilarity. So when I saw the Frisco Kid on our library's "just in" shelf I had to grab it. Here's hoping it's good. Or at least watchable. Or OK.

You know what's good? The picture above and the two people in it. Good.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 90

2011-05-18T11:34:00.002-05:00

Around our house we really enjoy fairy tales. All stripes and sorts. I grew up reading the Violet Book, the Red Book, the Yellow Book of fairy tales. The kids enjoy the language and the imagery in these stories. Some are gory, some are sweet, some make no sense at all.

At the library I checked out Roald Dahl's Revolting Rhymes. His treatment of fairy tales is enough to make one gasp and giggle. The children were shocked at first, but once they got over their astonishment at the irreverent treatment Mr. Dahl gave to their favorites, they thoroughly enjoyed them all. I hope you and yours do too.

Cinderella
Roald Dahl

I guess you think you know this story.
You don't. The real one's much more gory.
The honey one, the one you know,
Was cooked up years and years ago.,
And made to sound all soft and sappy
just to keep the children happy.
Mind you, they got the first bit right,
The bit where, in the dead of night,
The Ugly Sisters jewels and all,
Departed for the Palace Ball,
While Darling little Cinderella
Was locked up in a slimy cellar,
Where rats who wanted things to eat,
Began to nibble at her feet.

She bellowed 'Help!' and 'Let me out!'
The Magic Fairy heard her shout.
Appearing in a blaze of light,
She said: 'My dear, are you all right?'
'All right?' cried Cindy 'Can't you see
'I feel as rotten as can be!'
She beat her fist against the wall,
And shouted, 'Get me to the Ball!
'There is a Disco at the Palace!
'The rest have gone and I am jealous!
'I want a dress! I want a coach!
'And earring and a diamond brooch!
'And silver slippers, two of those!
'And lovely nylon panty hose!
'Done up like that I'll guarantee
'The handsome Prince will fall for me!'
The Fairy said, 'Hang on a tick.'
She gave her wand a mighty flick
And quickly, in no time at all,
Cindy was at the Palace Ball!

It made the Ugly Sisters wince
To see her dancing with the Prince.
She held him very tight and pressed
herself against his manly chest.
The Prince himself was turned to pulp,
All he could do was gasp and gulp.
Then midnight struck. She shouted, 'Heck!
I've got to run to save my neck!'
The Prince cried, 'No! Alas! Alack!'
He grabbed her dress to hold her back.
As Cindy shouted, 'Let me go!'
The dress was ripped from head to toe.

She ran out in her underwear,
And lost one slipper on the stair.
The Prince was on it like a dart,
He pressed it to his pounding heart,
'The girl this slipper fits,' he cried,
'Tomorrow morn shall be my bride!
I'll visit every house in town
'Until I've tracked the maiden down!'
Then rather carelessly, I fear,
He placed it on a crate of beer.

At once, one of the Ugly Sisters,
(The one whose face was blotched with blisters)
Sneaked up and grabbed the dainty shoe,
And quickly flushed it down the loo.
Then in its place she calmly put
The slipper from her own left foot.
Ah ha, you see, the plot grows thicker,
And Cindy's luck starts looking sicker.

Next day, the Prince went charging down
To knock on all the doors in town.
In every house, the tension grew.
Who was the owner of the shoe?
The shoe was long and very wide.
(A normal foot got lost inside.)
Also it smelled a wee bit icky.
(The owner's feet were hot and sticky.)
Thousands of eager people came
To try it on, but all in vain.
Now came the Ugly Sisters' go.
One tried it on. The Prince screamed, 'No!'
But she screamed, 'Yes! It fits! Whoopee!
'So now you've got to marry me!'
The Prince went white from ear to ear.
He muttered, 'Let me out of here.'
'Oh no you don't! You made a vow!
'There's no way you can back out now!'
'Off with her head!' The Prince roared back.
They chopped it off with one big whack.
This pleased the Prince. He smiled and said,
'She's prettier without her head.'
Then up came Sister Number Two,
Who yelled, 'Now I will try the shoe!'
'Try this instead!' the Prince yelled back.
He swung his trusty sword and smack
Her head went crashing to the ground.
It bounced a bit and rolled around.
In the kitchen, peeling spuds,
Cinderella heard the thuds
Of bouncing heads upon the floor,
And poked her own head round the door.
'What's all the racket?' Cindy cried.
'Mind your own bizz,' the Prince replied.
Poor Cindy's heart was torn to shreds.
My Prince! she thought. He chops off heads!
How could I marry anyone
Who does that sort of thing for fun?

The Prince cried, 'Who's this dirty slut?
'Off with her nut! Off with her nut!'
Just then, all in a blaze of light,
The Magic Fairy hove in sight,
Her Magic Wand went swoosh and swish!
'Cindy!' she cried, 'come make a wish!
'Wish anything and have no doubt
'That I will make it come about!'
Cindy answered, 'Oh kind Fairy,
This time I shall be more wary.
'No more Princes, no more money.
'I have had my taste of honey.
I'm wishing for a decent man.
'They're hard to find. D'you think you can?'
Within a minute, Cinderella
Was married to a lovely feller,
A simple jam maker by trade,
Who sold good home-made marmalade.
Their house was filled with smiles and laughter
And they were happy ever after.

Del, you're lucky he didn't have a Sharpie.

2011-05-16T15:57:00.002-05:00

This was not my fault.

I was the one driving.
The Papi did this to Del.

It's like a frat house on wheels.

Minus the booze,
but there is a lot of belching and gas release on a regular basis.

I don't know what would have happened if there had been a marker in the glove box.

Seven Quick Takes - late to the party edition

2011-05-13T17:45:00.001-05:00

UNO** So I was all excited to join the Seven Quick takes at Conversion Diary this week, but Blogger was being dumb. And since do not have the know how to write all my html (what is that?) and must use Blogger, I am late. Speaking of dumb, there have been other problems with Blogger, so I'm thinking of switching. Wordpress? Typepad? Which is better? I know one is free, the other is not, which factors in, but do you have a preference?

DOS** Since the weather has gotten nice, this is the Lola dog's preferred place to sit. From her vantage point she can bark, yelp and growl at passerby to her heart's content. It's the small furry equivalent of "Hey! You kids! Get off my Lawn!"

TRES** The Chicago Tribune ran an article yesterday on a blind couple who adopted two blind little girls. It's just a happy feel good story, but I kept the article and keep going back to it, just to look at the pictures. I showed it to the kids last night and it blew their minds. How? they kept asking. How do they shop? How do they pick clothes? How do they know how to eat? This prompted a blind dinner. Did you know it's hard to eat ramen with your eyes closed? The kids have all kinds of questions about this family, and I am just amazed by this family. The way things have changed in the last 100, heck, 50 years! There was a time when a blind person was destined for an institution or was thought of as less of a person, simply because he was blind. This couple's little girls are from India and China, both countries where it is difficult to live, let alone be blind. And now they are in the U.S., happy, loved, and leading wonderful, regular lives. Just amazing.

CUATRO** Some of you have asked, and some of you already know, how our home for the elderly is coming along. Long story short, it's not really. There are so many details I won't get into here, but we have done all we know how to do, and unless we go kidnap us some old people, they are just not coming. Which is crazy. What old person wouldn't want to live with four children ages 8 and under, a small adoring lap dog and whatever Mike and I are, in a teensy house in idyllic Chesterton? Apparently, NO old person. So we are having to take a big step back. We have other plans for our future, but none nearly as exciting as an old people home. The thing is, in our morning reading the kids and I have been reading stories of saints who did nothing. Nothing big. They were either sick their whole lives, able to do nothing but pray, not even feed themselves, or they were unremarkable. Just ordinary people serving God in ordinary faithful ways. Some of them had great plans but were felled by terrible illnesses and after a period of bitterness, they found peace and contentment in just loving Christ. Nothing else. We are also reading the story of Joseph in our picture bible. Today's portion of the story was where Joseph revealed himself to his brothers, while weeping and praising God. The concluding lesson was that God has a plan. It seemed like God didn't care about Joseph when he was sold, enslaved and imprisoned. But God had a plan. I suppose we could draw some lessons from that. I guess. If we have to.

CINCO** I hurt my foot a few weeks ago. The best diagnosis I can come up with after all my internet perusing is either a bruised heel or planter fasciitis. The latter makes more sense, seeing as how this is not the first time I've hurt my heel, but this is definitely the longest time it has taken in healing. I could go to the doctor, but being a Hanna, and with apologies to my doctor and nurse friends and family, Hanna's aren't really big on doctors. Which is dumb, but that's what we do. Or don't do. Anyway. Last weekend we went to a wedding and I wore some stupidly high heels, the kind that used to make sense, but no longer do, and I realized something. My foot didn't hurt! Apparently standing on my tippy-toes all night makes the hurt heel feel so much better. So I wrote myself a prescription (sorry doctors) for a lot of high heel wearing. Yesterday I made breakfast in pajamas.... and heels. The husband was all like hey, babeeee. And I was all like NO, my heel hurts. Poor husband.

SEIS** Speaking of husbands, this morning I went for a super early walk with a friend and I came home to this:

Seven A.M. and the husband had both boys out in the backyard working on the fort. It looks pretty amazing. Wild and crazy and cool. Tomorrow we'll add some burlap to the roof and maybe even some moss. It's kind of hobbity and Where the Wild Things Are-ish, and just fun. I need some photographically inclined friends to come over and take cool pictures of it. *ahem* Yes, I'm talking to YOU.

SIETE** Speaking of moss. While looking at the picture above I just realized that Del has been wearing the same pants for four days and nights straight. With no underwear. And I'm really not joking. I wish I was. He may need to change tomorrow. Or for church on Sunday. Sometime, anyway, he will change.

Thank you, Jen, for hosting! And someday I will learn how to add the little post-it note at the top. (See number UNO for my computer savvy...)

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 89 (Two for the price of one edition)

2011-05-11T10:21:00.002-05:00

Spring

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Nothing is so beautiful as Spring -

When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;

Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush

Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring

The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;

The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush

The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush

With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?

A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning

In Eden garden. - Have, get, before it cloy,

Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,

Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,

Most, O maid's child, they choice and worthy the winning.

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

Today my Mom arrives in Tuscon for the funeral of her brother, my uncle, Lee. He died of Melanoma, which had metastasized in his brain and spinal cord. His wife Becky, and sister Elaine were able to be present with him in his final hours. My Mom and her siblings had been able to gather previously to say their goodbyes and express their love for him. You can see some pictures of Lee in his youth over at my Mom's. He was able to see his children, who are spread all over the globe (Mexico, US, Morocco) for a final farewell before the cancer took him. Now he rests, free of cares and worries in the arms of his Savior. You can pray for his children, and for my Aunt Becky, as she continues with life without Lee. He was one of my Mom's baby brothers (at 65 - although I picture him in my head as a dashing young airman in black and white pictures. I have other memories of him, but my mind brings up the old ones) and he had many more years ahead. He and Becky had dreams and plans. Pray for her. For peace and joy.

You can pray, also, for Alan, Beth (my sister) and their family. They fly to Florida tomorrow for what will more than likely be their last visit with his father. Pray for safe travels, for good visits with family, and for joyful goodbyes. Because we can only say goodbye in peace and hope when we know we will be gathered again, in joyful reunion, as the proverbial sheaves of wheat.

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

8

Gerard Manley Hopkins

He hath abolished the old drouth,
And rivers run where all was dry,
The field is sopp'd with merciful dew.
He hath put a new song in my mouth,
The words are old, the purport new,
And taught my lips to quote this word
That I shall live, I shall not die,
But I shall when the shocks are stored
See the salvation of the Lord.
We meet together, you and I,
Meet in one acre of one land,
And I will turn my looks to you,
And you shall meet me with reply,
We shall be sheaved with one band
In harvest and in garnering,
When heavenly vales so thick shall stand
With corn that they shall laugh and sing.

Recent doings

2011-05-10T16:21:00.001-05:00

Our first attempt at making Naan - deemed a big success.
"And I only burned myself twice!" says Josie.

The fort.
I don't even know how this happened.
What started as a silly gathering of the neighbor's extra tree limbs. I thought we'd make, I dunno, a tee pee? A trellis for peas? Turned into a full fledged fort with a flag. It is not finished yet, but don't worry, you will see it in all its glory.

Mother's Day at my in-law's house.
With the best kids ever.
Isn't he sweet in Grandpa's hat?

And today, Pinkalicious.
The musical.
It was Pinktastic.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 88

2011-05-04T08:20:00.001-05:00

Forgetfulness

Billy Collins

The name of the author is the first to go

followed obediently by the title, the plot,

the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel

which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor

decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,

to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine muses goodbye

and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,

and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,

the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,

it is not poised on the tip of your tongue

or even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river

whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall

well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those

who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night

to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.

No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted

out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

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

I just made my third attempt to pour hot water into a mug for tea. A mug all ready full of hot water, tea bags steeping. It is tedious, forgetting. Going through the extra steps of filling the pot, starting the fire, waiting distractedly for the kettle to whistle. Beginning to pour while thinking of something else, only to find out that, oops! the mug is full.

In my days it seems I spend all my time trying not to forget inconsequential things while doing an odious job of remembering great, earth-shattering events. I try to remember to tell the kids this, or teach them that, oh, I forgot the other. There is so much to remember!

My family had, for as long as I can remember, a little box. Much like a recipe box it was divided into two sections - family and friends. The sections were stuffed full of pictures and sometimes the lines were blurred. Some carefully cut out from prayer letters, some updated prayer cards. Some were pictures taken when last we had visited Michigan or Missouri, hopelessly out of date, but the only pictures we had of certain loved ones. My mom has a fabulous memory for remembering all the details about every single person in that box. We would each take a picture and she would tell us all about what was happening in so-and-so's life. Then we would each take turns praying for the people in our picture. As with so many childhood memories, I remember liking it when I was smaller, and inwardly (maybe outwardly) rolling my eyes and wishing the family meal time torture would end as I got older. Now I look back with nothing but fondness. I've never met some of the people in that family prayer box, but if you were to bring up their names today, I would know plenty about them. My Mom continues to forward prayer letters, pictures, updates, you name it, she sends it out, to all of us, reminding us of each of these peoples lives and needs.

Here is the part where I make my request of you. Yes. YOU. We have our own little family prayer box. It is much smaller than my parents', but contains pictures and prayer cards and not-so-carefully folded over prayer letters. I'm not quite as neat as my Mom, maybe someday.... maybe not. We keep all those lovely Christmas pictures that arrive during the holidays, updating and adding to the prayer box. Some pictures are held together with a paper clip, as I can't stand to get rid of the year before. They are so fun to look through! (look, there's Aiden as a baby, wasn't he cute? now comes Bailey, next is the Molly! Aw, so sweet...) Anyway, we need your pictures. If you want us to pray for you, you have to remind us not to forget you! Now, you don't need to run out and get a family portrait done, you don't even need to print one off. Just send me your favorite digital copy and I will do all the hard work of having CVS print it out for me. If you sent out a Christmas picture or a recent prayer letter/card, then no need to worry. We've got you.

And you might want to send your picture soon. Mikey has been particularly flowery and sweet with his prayers. His latest lunch time blessing included "Dear Loving Father shining above us.... help our hearts to remain thankful..... we will speak with you often.... we are ever truly yours..... amen" I really hope his prayers make God smile and give a little chuckle the way they do us. And who doesn't want that boy praying for them? I wish he'd pray for me!

So! Please! Send us your pictures! (livovichkris (at) gmail(dot)com) We want to remember you.

flutter by

2011-05-02T21:51:00.003-05:00

For the Mikey/Elia birthday we bought butterfly nets with real! live! butterfly! larvae!
I thought this was a good idea, you know, science, learning, good for the brain, connect with nature and all that, but have you seen butterfly larvae? Yuck.

Double yuck when they are in their little plastic tub contentedly munching on the beeswax looking stuff on the bottom and dropping copious amounts of beeswax looking pellets of poo. Those spiny little worms (caterpillars, Mom, Elia inserts with an eye roll), started out teeny and grew disturbingly fast. All on my piano in the living room.

Nature is ugly.

But the butterfly larvae happily ate their stuff-in-a-jar, grew big and fat, and did just what they were supposed to do. They built crysalids, a fascinating process, and then they sat there. And sat there. And didn't move. And sat some more.

Really, it was only about 7 days, but that is a looooong time for a three year old.

We were rewarded though! Our patience, our willingness to beat back the shudders of revulsion and not drop the whole thing in a trash can just so I could get it out of the living room paid off! We had butterflies!

The literature warned us that not all the butterflies would emerge from their crisalids, but all of ours did! An example of fine parenting on our part, I like to believe. Did you know when they emerge that a red, blood like substance sometimes drips down the side of the netting? It's not blood, it's meconioum. Even in such beauty, nature is gross.

Our butterflies emerged! We gathered hyacinths in vases, we put paper towels drenched in a sugar water solution. We managed to keep all the butterflies alive until the outdoor temperatures hovered above fifty five. Well, we managed to keep almost all the butterflies alive.

When we unzipped the netting to release all our Painted Ladies, we found one floating in the water of one of the hyacinths. It must have been in there overnight. It wasn't fighting, it wasn't moving. Our first casualty.

I removed the flowers from the net and helped Del and Elia set them free while keeping a watchful eye on the Mikey, who sometimes likes to bat things out of the sky. I did not need our second casualty to result in the banishment of a brother. Josie fretted over her little dead butterfly the whole time, not able to watch the beauty of the others flying by. After the rest of us watched for a bit, I heard,

"Mom! Look! It's alive! It's alive!"

Josie had pulled the floater out of the water and was showing me how it was weakly moving it's wings. Small signs of life indeed. Upon closer inspection, though, I found that the poor thing had been in the water long enough for it's back legs to begin to disintegrate. The body looked a little gelatinous. I told Josie that the butterfly was suffering and the kindest thing to do would be to place it on the ground and step on it. *GASP*

Not the right thing to say.

So we delicately placed the wounded butterfly on a hyacinth. We watched it weakly flutter it's wings and we prayed that it would get strong and fly away in the night. The butterfly was gone in the morning. I couldn't tell you for sure what happened to it, I have my suspicions (no I did not go out and squish it, I'm not THAT mean!) but Josie insists that it got strong and flew off to warmer gardens.

And that's my Josie.

And lest you think that everything around these parts is all maudlin sentimentality, I leave you with my favorite butterfly picture EVER. Drawn by the Elia when she was just a few years old. I've featured it on this blog before, but thought it was due for another round. The beauty and sentiment in this simple drawing continues to amaze and delight. I hope you enjoy it just as much as we do.

Are you ready?

Flower Child in the making

2011-04-28T23:45:00.001-05:00

The girls love it when I make arrangements. They love helping me pick out the flowers, they hover as I cut them and drop them in buckets, they anxiously watch as I use the flowers up. They choose "their" flowers long before the belong to them. They watch me use up all these beautiful flowers and worry that there will be none left over for them. But somehow there always seems to be a little bit left.
It's a miracle.

The Elia has been honing her flower skills for quite some time now. We lived in Chicago when she was born and I was still working at my favorite flower shop. When she was a few weeks old I went back to work three days a week. We would get up early, I would pack her in the maya, fold up her little portable swing, gather enough diapers and an outfit change or two, and hop on the red line all the way down to the store. At the time I didn't work at the main store, but managed our smaller south loop location. It was just me, Elia, Joana and Richie, hanging out all day.

She would spend her days in the maya, in her swing, being held by my co-workers and sleeping in empty flower boxes. She was so sweet and easy. Yes, there were moments of uncontrollable crying, but those were pretty rare, and thankfully she chose our off-peak hours for fussing. And if she started fussing and I couldn't get to her, my co-workers were always happy to hold a baby.

Man, I had the best boss ever.

I stopped working even part time, especially after moving to Indiana and popping out a couple more kids, but still managed to make it into the shop for holidays and occasional work. I have quite a few pictures of Elia and then Josie sleeping in little make shift toddler bed/boxes in the back room of LaSalle, or tucked under a counter. They were happy to play with scraps of flowers, watch shows on the computer in the office, and generally charm the pants off anyone they came across.

Again, best boss ever.

All that playing and sleeping in boxes is paying off. Elia made her very own arrangement this Easter. She cut the foam, found a dish, taped it in and arranged it all herself. We carried this lovely piece of work all the way to Grandma and Grandpa's house where it graced a table for Easter dinner. It even survived a little stomping by the Deli's feet in the car. She's just that good.

She's been bugging for a pocket knife like mine so she can carry it with her and make arrangements should the mood strike. I am not procuring said knife quickly enough for her liking. As soon as I go to the wholesaler, my dear, it will be yours. And then watch out, Northwest Indiana! Grand flower arrangements are coming your way!

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 87

2011-04-27T10:51:00.001-05:00

There were a good amount of thoughts in my head for this poetry day. But as it happens, things get busy, we are a bit stressed, life is moving at the speed of light. I need a mental break. Thanks to the Writer's Almanac, it has arrived. Thanks to Billy Collins, I can look forward to another rainy day with a smile on my face.

What She Said

by Billy Collins

When he told me he expected me to pay for dinner,
I was like give me a break.

I was not the exact equivalent of give me a break.
I was just similar to give me a break.

As I said, I was like give me a break.

I would love to tell you
how I was able to resemble give me a break
without actually being identical to give me a break,

but all I can say is that I sensed
a similarity between me and give me a break.

And that was close enough
at that point in the evening

even if it meant I would fall short
of standing up from the table and screaming
give me a break,

for God's sake will you please give me a break?!

No, for that moment
with the rain streaking the restaurant windows
and the waiter approaching,

I felt the most I could be was like

to a certain degree

give me a break.

ok, now we're ready

2011-04-23T22:37:00.001-05:00

Really. Who do those children belong to?

NOW. We are ready.

In preparation

2011-04-22T22:14:00.001-05:00

Among the many things we did today for Easter,

the children's favorite was the long, endless, whiny, terrible Good Friday service.

Oh man, I wish it was their favorite.
Although I remember as a kid sleeping, whining and complaining through many an Easter morning service.
Now my kids get to complain through a bunch of Easter services! They love it.

We are ready for Easter.

2011-04-21T05:11:00.002-05:00

On the first three Wednesdays of each month we head to our homeschool co-operative and have a great time. Sometimes we even learn things! This Wednesday differed only in that after co-op we had a yearly check up for the Mikey. Co-op ends at 1 and our appointment was at 2, so we stopped at the Goodwill by our pediatrician (I love resale stores, but this Goodwill always stinks. It smells of mothballs and stale cigarettes so badly that I hesitate to buy any clothes because I'm not sure I can get the smell out.) But I threw an adorable skirt for the girls and some light up Buzz Lightyear slippers for Del in the cart. But the Mikey!
The Mikey didn't get anything!

He was swiftly succumbing to tears and quivery lips when he spied THE THING! Just the thing he needed! Mom! I neeeeeeed this! I need this baby! And Mom, faced with the liquid brown eyes of love begging for his very own baby, succumbed. (And it's an ugly baby, too. So ugly, I shuddered in revulsion when face to face with it. yech.) But the Mikey, happy with his baby trotted out to the car and took his baby, now named Herbert, into the office so he could get checked out by the doctor too.

Everything went well. Even though the Mikey was not wearing underwear - surprise, Mom! - and had mud (real mud, not poop!) crusted to the seat of his jeans, the doctor declared him in great health. We finally made it home and everyone headed to their separate corners for some quiet time. The Del and I retreated to my bed for books and a nap, interrupted as usual by cries of "I'm doooone!" from the bathroom and multiple requests for snacks. Then Mikey interrupted one last time with a request for me to "tie this thingy on me". Yes, yes, Mikey, I'll tie it, now please, please, let me nap and go have your quiet time.

That tying was well worth it. After quiet time I found the Mikey happily tucking his baby into his rebozo and carrying Herbert around. Mikey talked with Herbert, loved on him and even held him through dinner and a show.


yes, Mikey and Herbert are lounging on a basket of laundry. Clean and cushiony!

Tonight Mikey made his baby a bed right next to his own, undressed the baby and placed his clothes lovingly on the bookshelf. He tucked Herbert in and tucked himself in his own bed. I told him, "Mikey, you are a good Papi, you know that?" His reply?

"Yes, I am."

Awesome baby. Awesome boy.

This sweet little boy and his baby made me think of the sweet babies and their parents who are not able to simply head to their local Goodwill and get a baby. There are parents who go through heartbreak. Families who go through heartbreak. Beth, along with her sweet family, went through their own heartbreak. She has taken this deep sadness and turned it into beauty. She and her family want to support other babies and other families.

Through March of Dimes, they have formed Team James and Jake, with a goal of raising $1500 (I think they're gonna make it). You can donate at March of Dimes. You can just send prayers their way. Or you can buy pretty pictures! What?! Yes.

Beth just opened June Afternoons, and Etsy shop of fantastic photos taken by all kinds of talented people. You can buy prints of the pictures, which is lovely. But the best part of the deal is that ALL proceeds go to Team James and Jake! So to recap, you get a pretty picture, they help sweet babies. Pretty good, no? Yes.

I don't know if you can help the babies be more like Herbert, though. Because in Mikey's words,

"He can fly. And shoot lasers."

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 86

2011-04-19T22:44:00.000-05:00

Spring Song

Lucille Clifton

the green of Jesus
is breaking the ground
and the sweet
smell of delicious Jesus
is opening the house and
the dance of Jesus music
has hold of the air and
the world is turning
in the body of Jesus and
the future is possible

***************

This poem feels hopeful and a little hippy and a whole lot happy, and all the way ready for Easter. We can feel and taste and hear Easter Sunday on the not too distant horizon.

Have a peaceful week.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 85

2011-04-13T07:03:00.001-05:00

One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. --Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.