I'm still angry, but thankfulness rushes over
the sharp edges of it,
and is the overwhelming emotion
For most things.
Except the words "heart attack"
Then I'm angry again.
But I remember that pulsation,
pressing against my finger-
so o o o o s l o w,
but under the familiar texture of his skin
stronger than anger,
stronger than the alarmed response
to technology's brazen beeps
and jagged colored lines
blood of my father.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I'm here in my cozy home, pj's on, 3rd cup of coffee in hand and the kids are playing happily in their room.
Ok, so I'm not snowed in. I'm not even rained in. I'm cloud-ied in. It's not even in the 30's right now- or 40's for that matter, but it IS 50, and grey.
Don't judge. It's Saturday morning, and I'm feeling slightly under the weather (so to speak) and there is nothing more gorgeous than taking it slow in the mornings. With a veritable buffet of things to do, I sit at my computer and let them parade in my thoughts, eventually picking out of the line-up the most time-wasting and unprofitable. "Doing Laundry" and "Make the Grocery List" and "Getting the Kids to Clean Their Room" glide past gracefully, and wedged in there like a troup of clowns in a tiny car between the gorgeous and ornate floats comes "Sit Down on the Compy and Post Something Improvised." Clowns. Love them or hate them, but they win the grand prize in the Putzing Parade.
Today we live up to our middle-class status in all outward appearances. Pancakes for breakfast, video games in the morning, Emma has an ice skating party this afternoon at the mall, and I plan to take Bo to the game store during that time, and perhaps pick up an overpriced coffee while I wait. Sounds totally staid and un-thrilling.
Below the surface of this "normal Saturday" are the undercurrents of something richer. Something you have to take time and breath to sense and feel. A relaxing in the shoulders. The happy sound of children who have gotten off the tv and are creating worlds together. The trees chuckling and shaking in the wind. The sense of a Lord who is new each morning, and yet the Same. His joy permeating and changing everything.
My life is not what it appears to be. My life is what I am Living. If you pass me in the mall today, I'll raise my paper cup of mocha cappucino, and hope the riches that are stored up in you find their way to the surface of your day.
Here's to cloudy Saturdays.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Now that I have so much storage space, I still have SO much JUNK.
How does this happen?
I'm still trying to simplify, still proud of the fact that we downsized so much in the last year. But now I have more space and those empty corners seem to attract junk like the disposal attracts spoons.
We spent a goodly portion of the evening working on Emma's room, and my goo'ness does that girly have alot of sparkly plastic things. Combs, bracelets, costumes, crowns, pens, ponies, even books are coated in sparkly plastic. It's quite the phenomenon. Luckily, Em is not too sentimental about things she's outgrown. All the princess stuff? "Gone." as she put it. "Trash." When we wailed on and on about her Little Mermaid Doll that she used to take EVERYWHERE and sing with and play with and love, she looked at me and said "Well, you keep it then!" Bo, on the other hand, stacked up the books that were his favorites long ago which got handed down, and then outgrown.
Hug (He and I will still say "Bo Bo!!!!" "Mama!!!!")
Toad Makes a Road
Bill and Pete (about a crocodile named William Everett. A must-have for a boy named William Everett.)
WHAT? Bo's name is William Everett????
Well, that's a story for another post.
Anyways. About this crap around the place. I really want to keep up with it, honestly, but my kitchen keeps pulling me back. It calls me down the corridor... "You really want to try something in that new dutch oven of yours!" And my new griddle cries out "Pancakes! Your kids NEED pancakes!" And once Betty starts her seductive whirring...well, I'm just lost.
But seriously. I really needed those things. OK. I've lived without them for 33 years now, but I think that's long enough to prove a point.
Besides, I still have empty drawers in my kitchen. So there.
And you know what? I plan on keeping them empty for a long time.
Space. The final frontier.
It's not just for Trekkies anymore.
Live long and prosper.
Friday, January 02, 2009
You lucky year, you.
2008 did all the hard work
saw all the changes
the boxes filled up
and disposed of
so hello '09.
little out of you.