Happy Birthday, Mimi!

As I've mentioned before, my Mimi is awesome.

I love snuggling under her quilts.

I love drinking her sweet tea.

I love crashing driving her golf cart during kumquat wars.


I love, love, love listening to her tell stories.

I love beating her at cards! (Hahaha...haha...ha...please don't hurt me, Mimi)

I love my Mimi.

And while Nutmeg didn't end up sharing Mimi's birthday, they split the difference with Christmas--Mimi two days before and Nutmeg two days after. Instead of sharing a birthday, they share a name.


Love you, Mimi!

Happy Anniversary!

Every year, our anniversary comes in the midst of Christmas preparations, Advent celebrations, and End-of-Semester stress and chaos.

Over the past thirteen years, our anniversary has been celebrated on both coasts and in between.

Advent has grown richer and more meaningful.

And the end-of-semester stress has shifted from that of student to that of teacher and professor.

Occasionally we talk about celebrating on the anniversary of the day we were engaged, which is in August.

No matter how busy it feels, no matter who may need to travel, J always insists that we celebrate. On the day. At least a little bit.

And he is right. It is something to celebrate. I am happier to be married to J now than I was as a newlywed--and I was an overboard romantic then. God has been so good to us, and we are in particularly sweet season right now. I love him so, AND I have the warm fuzzies and deep affection. And, oh, we laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

Sometime this fall, out of the blue, he sent me a poem. In a year of romance and sweet messages and great dates, the poem still stands out (maybe because I immediately printed it and put it on the refrigerator, where it remains).

I never knew the title before tonight, though.

To a Long Loved Love

Because you're not who I would have you be
I blind myself to who, in truth, you are.
Seeking mirage where desert blooms, I mar
Your you. Aaah, I would like to see
Past all delusion to reality:
Then I would see God's image in your face,
His hands in yours, and in your eyes his grace.
Because I'm not who I would have me be,
I idolize Two who are not any place,
Not you, not me, and so we never touch.
Reality would burn. I do not like it much.
And yet in you, in me, I find a trace
Of love which struggles to break through
The hidden lovely truth of me, of you.


Madeleine L'Engle

One of my favorite love letters from the man I adore.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart! I'm thrilled to be on this road--and in the midst of this construction project--with you.

PSA: Santa Claus

It may not be Christmas quite yet, but...


We're excited and getting ready!

Sunday of Joy

You know what? I'm working on a blog post. The kind where I write. But I'm not feeling it tonight. So I give you pictures instead.

Tonight, J and the children added white lights to the front porch. I went to take pictures. It was already dark out--and for some reason our crazy kids decided that my camera flashing was musket fire. They hightailed it away from me, shrieking. And I gave chase.

Oh, did I chase.

My camera's pretty smart and it was pretty dark, so there was much flashing and not so much shutter opening and closing. But I did capture a few shots, between hiding around corners of houses, sneaking up between cars, and suchlike.

My lungs are still a little sore from the all-out running in the cool night air. In flip flops. In the dark. With a really nice camera around my neck (clearly, these added up to give the kids enough of an advantage that it was a pretty fair game).

Bud "surrendered" the few times I got close--he was the most elusive

J joined in, too. We had a lot of fun.

Held up by my "musket"

Sweet, sweet laughter. Children whose legs are so tired they can "barely move!". A mom who accidentally fell into a game and had the delight of remembering how fun it is to play.




Happy Third Sunday of Advent, everyone!

Body Language

It appears that Nutmeg is adopting a signature pose. You know, something like Madonna's "vogue" or Michael Jordan's dunk.

I'm not sure that I can shed any light or interpretive assistance on these moments I caught her doing her thing, so I'll just share the images. I'd love to know what you would name this pose!



Good thing it was date night tonight; that's all I'm sayin'.

Advent, Week 2

Oops. This week got away from me. We are hurtling through Advent...Bud checks the dry erase board every morning for a fresh look at how many days until Christmas. And the slowing down isn't happening as much as I'd like.

This morning in school, Bud journaled a little bit about the season we're in. He can't wait to open presents--and to give them away. He also loves looking for the Elf.

Ah, the Elf.

The kids' aunt and uncle gave them their very own Elf on a Shelf a couple of years ago for Christmas, and it has bloomed into a tradition all their own. We don't really follow the original intents and purposes of the Elf; we don't have a little spy who goes and reports to Santa whether they have been good or not. Mainly because we don't tie Christmas presents to good behavior. As a friend in our Wednesday night group pointed out last week, "That's blatant works-righteousness. Plus even bad kids almost always get presents anyway, so what they're really learning is that whatever they do is good enough." Not exactly the gospel, eh?

(That friend was NOT talking about the Elf, by the way. Just generically about Santa Claus.)

Our Elf's name is Tompton. His last name is "Elf-on-a-stick" in German, which I can pronounce but cannot spell, so you'll just have to take my word for it.


Every morning the kids come out and try to be the first to find Tompton. He hides all over the place, trying to blend in. With his bright red it doesn't usually work for very long.



At first, we said that whoever found him first was entitled to light the candles in the Advent wreath during our worship times that day. This did not work out very well in Wombles' favor, so we came up with an elaborate civil code with various contingencies and exceptions.


That didn't work either, not least because I couldn't keep track of it all or decide what was fair.

Turns out, there didn't really have to be a reward for the kids to love combing over the house looking for our little SchtechelElf. They actually DO very much enjoy just hunting and finding. Who knew? (We do give a candy treat, though, for the first winner. Often that's Bud before anyone else has gotten out of bed, so no hurt feelings.)



One of the delights of parenthood is getting to help build what will be our children's memories and traditions. Along with special family worship morning-and-evening, we have our Elf on a Shelf. It's fun to play.


And although I don't think the kids are conscious of any parallel, I like the idea of incorporating a bit of hoping and searching into our Advent traditions. I like to think that there's some little heart muscle getting exercised that will be ever more ready to hope and search for the returning King.



During our worship times, the format is the same as last week. In the morning, we have switched our prayer to the following:

Merciful God, who sent your messengers the prophets to preach repentance and prepare the way for our salvation: Give us grace to heed their warnings and forsake our sins, that we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

And our memory verse to the next two verses in Revelation, 22:14& 15 (12-13 were last week).

In the evenings, we've switched around our original plan for singing. This week we're doing "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" in order to stay ahead of what we're doing in corporate worship. Instead of saving it for last, we're doing it now so that the children will know the words when we all sing it together. A fun element has been that it's one of Pixie's pieces for her recorder recital next week, so she has accompanied us once and I hope she will again.

Happy second week of Advent!