August 2019
Outside my window, zinnias are tall and colorful. Lots of butterflies this year. I see them everywhere and I see them here. And the cardinals. So many. I read a meme of how cardinals represent loved ones passed on, and I don't believe it, but sometimes, I give them a look--and I imagine just for a second if I could say, what I would say. Would it be a whisper or a roar?
Giving thanks for time with family and safe travels and summer days and the woods. I am so thankful for all that I have. Enough is as good as a feast, but oh, a feast. And I have all I need.
In the school room, the books are in. A month is planned. And I'm working on first day questions for a group of boys. I'm teaching sixth grade grammar this year. All boys. It's going to be awesome.
From the kitchen, a loaf in the bread machine. I meant to make it yesterday. And then I meant to start it this morning. But it's in the machine now and soon the house will smell like baked bread. One of my favorite things about AugustSeptemberOctoberNovember is all the good kitchen smells. Pies, breads. Coffees, teas. Scented candles and wood smoke (and it's no surprise to me the wood stove is already reminding me of its delicious, delightful days. I caught a whiff this morning and wanted to laugh. Soon.). Comfort and Joy in my mug today, and come September, I can order all my holiday favorites. I think I might get the big bags.
I am healing. It is a year later, and while I didn't acknowledge the day in the ways I imagined, I acknowledge the month and it is a year from then. The month I died and was left for dead. The month I was actually reborn, set free. My vision and health restored. And God is restoring me. A thief comes to kill, steal and destroy and this is truth. But Christ came that I would have life, and life abundant. And this is truth too. He is faithful.
I am reading, well, I just returned it today,
Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb. I checked it out as an inside joke to myself, that first year after my dad died and I was overwhelmed by everything and I couldn't even talk a word of it without crying. Not everyone can go where you go, and I learned this in Heartache. Not everyone can. Nor do they want to. One even said, "Maybe you should talk to someone" ... (awkward pause, her sad face, and I wiped my eyes and tried to stop the flow and change the subject
because I showed too much of my heart and it was too much.) The book was good. I appreciated the honesty of real life, and I laughed and cried, and felt the sting, especially in the chapter titled
Fathers. Now I've checked out a book called
A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman, and
Driving Miss Norma: One Family's Journey Saying YES to Living by Tim Bauerschmidt and Ramie Liddle.
I am also tackling Shakespeare with Lanie for the start of the school year. I am waiting for two books on John Wesley, because I heard that he strongly believed in community, and I wonder what he envisioned, because community, more often than not, has not ever been what I hoped. Maybe I need to change my definition. Or change my hope.
I am hearing hymns on the piano. This month Lanie has been playing traditional and contemporary services at a nearby church. It is her first paid job. She was hired to substitute for August with the possibility of going on staff. I love the congregation, and they have been so warm and welcoming to our family. But most of all, I love what it is for Lanie--to use her gifts to serve the Lord, to step out of the shadows and be seen, to interact with and be loved by so many people. And she is loved. She is so very loved there. (And now she is practicing
Reverie by Debussy.
Around the house, I need to cut the grass. I have (always) big dreams of a next big home improvement project. But mostly, I am focusing on this year: driving hours with Lanie, co-op, teaching at home, yoga, running and possibly entering my very first ever 5K.
A view of my favorite things:
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| her first day on the job |
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| getting ready to celebrate eight years here |
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| I seriously love all things bento |
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| Walden Pond, and if you listen closely, you'll hear my heart sing |
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| This. Purpose. |
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| Three generations |
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| A dedicated gluten-free facility and a window that opened to the outdoors. Everything was so good we came back twice. |
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| Our grandson turned one! (And his mom is enormously creative!) |
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| Grandlove! |
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| Hiking with the best! |
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| This is so Erin--and I love her so very much! |
At the table, tonight, leftover grilled skirt steak, and a delicious vinaigrette over roasted potatoes of all things! Roast potatoes. At the last five minutes, add some corn. Then toss all in a bowl with parsley, basil, oregano, smoked mozzarella, and the vinaigrette (1/2 c olive oil, 1/3 c apple cider vinegar, 1/4 c dijon mustard, salt and pepper). I am so happy to be home.
