It rained all day, but when the afternoon turned to evening and it was time to drop him off at camp the skies cleared. That's when we finally saw a bit of sun. We tromped up the hill and through the woods to his cabin where I hovered and fluffed like a mama bird, certainly enough to embarrass him. And then the professor said, "He can handle the rest." And he could. Gulp. Father and son gave each other a quick fist-punch. I snatched a short hug. Certainly no kisses! Then we were off again... back through the drippy woods, back down the muddy hill, back to the car. And he was there.

Several weeks ago the children and I joined my mother for a day trip to the little town in rural West Alabama where she was raised. It was a sweet time of showing and telling, connecting with family, listening to stories, and standing in places that have, for many years, been only memories.

A highlight for me was visiting the home that my grandparents built. My aunt lives there now, in the house built of antique bricks with a big porch on the side, but everything is still so familiar, so little changed from the days of my childhood. When I stepped into the dimly lit breakfast room I saw the same table that's been there for as long as I can remember {always with hydrangeas in the center}, and I breathed the same familiar house-smell that's lived there always, and I peered out the window at the same piney backyard view, and in the seeing and the smelling and the remembering I realized that, although the moment might be fleeting, sometimes, in a breath and in a heartbeat, we can go back. And, it was sweet.

{the boys on the beach of Lake Michigan} We told them, "It's a lake but it's so big that you'll feel like you're standing on the shore of the ocean." It wasn't until they stood and gazed that they comprehended the vastness of Lake Michigan.
I think it's important for boys to be struck with enough wonder and awe of the natural world to remind them that they're not invincible.
Yet, to feel small while simultaneously being reminded that the deep friendship and love in the unique bond of brotherhood is larger than this wide, wide world is a blessing to treasure for a lifetime.

As the mother of school aged children I've noticed that the weeks between Spring Break and the last day of school go by so quickly. As a teacher and the mother of school aged children, those weeks were. a. blur. Although school ended in mid-May the momentum, the mayhem, continued... Our family took to the highway on a long dreamed of, much anticipated road trip to Michigan, an adventure that all of us thoroughly enjoyed. Upon returning home {ahhh, home!} the pace continued... gatherings with friends, swimming lessons, an out of town wedding. Finally, we're settling in for the slower, hot days of summer. And so, we carry on now as before, and as always, under His grace.

We kept inside most of the day, away from the damp, gray chill. Late in the afternoon we zipped into jackets and walked through the woods on the Boy Scout trail where the trees and vines twist and grow over and around the winding path. The woods were quiet and still, like the day, this December last. And after we'd passed through the woods we meandered along, coming home by way of the walking path in the park, stopping to read the names of the trees planted along the way. Red oak, sugar maple, live oak, longleaf pine, ash, and elm. As we walked back up the hill we stuffed cold hands into our jacket pockets while the sun set behind us... ending the day and the month and the year.

I woke before daylight this morning, before everyone else. And, I tiptoed downstairs in the dark. I opened the drapes and turned on the Christmas tree lights and made tea. Then, I sat in the silence, and savored it, and scribbled thank you notes to students for thoughtful Christmas treats. When the sun came up the sky was painted all orange and pink and winter-blue. I watched through the window with our colorful Christmas tree lights twinkling back at me in the reflection. And then it was time to scurry. Out the door. Last day of school for Sister and me. We were the last ones in the family to finish.
The skies have been clear and the children and I have been dashing about this week. First downtown and then to the mall. A skip over to Target, and then all over again. Round and round and round. They've been troopers and our Christmas errands have been productive. Whew!
While at the mall, Sister caught a glimpse of Santa and said, "See, Santa is real!" Little Brother, ever a stickler for accuracy, replied, "Well, reindeer can't fly." Then, Sister drew a picture of Santa, which in my mother-eyes really resembles the jolly old fellow. All of this Santa talk is amusing because our family has never "played" Santa, but listening to it is fun and it makes me smile.
We have a Christmas tree shaped holly bush outside our front door. The professor acquiesced to my request to put white lights on it this year. After the children were tucked in tonight I peered out the window through the bare trees at the bright, glowing moon hanging in the almost-winter sky. Lovely lights in the night.

My fifth nephew made his entrance into the world this week. And we were aflutter with smiles and excitement. And now, we have another to love. In addition to life's regular rhythm we added hospital visits and extra baking, special errands and newborn cuddles to our activities. This is our first local nephew/cousin and we're enjoying the nearness. A sweet week indeed!
While I made cinnamon muffins to deliver to the new family of three, Sister sat in the kitchen and drew a picture for me. It's title, she informed me, is, "Lollipops in Rain" which sounds perfectly lovely to me. I thought of her bright lollipops in the rain this morning when I awoke to fog. The autumn leaves, so colorful and bright against the wet, gray, Novembery canvas of our street.
We scurried around today with grocery shopping and errands. And, there was dinner to deliver to babyland. I crammed clementines into a brown paper sack, tied it with ribbon, and nestled it among our  other goodies. Clementines on a damp fall day, with their sunny taste and smell, make me happy.
And, these words from Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon made my heart smile, like Sister's lollipops. I'm reminded that no matter the circumstances His nearness is great and intimate...
"Here, indeed, we have a theme for marveling. Heaven and earth may well be astonished that rebels should obtain so great a nearness to the heart of infinite love as to be written upon the palms of His hands. "I have graven thee." It does not say, "Thy name." The name is there, but that is not all: "I have graven thee." See the fulness of this! I have graven thy person, thine image, thy case, thy circumstances, thy sins, thy temptations, thy weaknesses, thy wants, thy works; I have graven thee, everything about thee, all that concerns thee; I have put thee altogether there. Wilt thou ever say again that thy God hath forsaken thee when He has graven thee upon His own palms."

The professor blew in from France on Saturday evening in the middle of wind and rain. I let the boys stay up late with me as we waited for the familiar sound of his car pulling into the driveway. And then we heard a car door slam. And he was home. And we smiled big, goofy smiles. We missed him while he was away.
The tastes and sights and smells and touches and sounds of home all seem a little sweeter now that we're together again. I savored the flavors of our Sunday morning coffee cake, the box of enticing French macaroons that we opened after lunch, and the homemade pizza we leisurely ate for dinner. I delighted in watching the children play while we pulled a few weeds, seeing his big suitcase empty on the floor, and noticing the warm evening sun slant through the front windows. The smell of fresh air, onions caramelizing on the stove, the scent of him, all comforting and delightful. The touch of his hand, the sound of his voice, the talking, the laughter, the cuddles, the rest, a lovely accompaniment in our song of home and life, of mercy and love. Yes, home is a sweeter place when we're together.
I notice these blessings and suddenly I am the French girl holding a big, beautiful bouquet of balloons. My balloons are grace-gifts. A few may try to float away before I notice them, but I smile and look up with thanksgiving to the Giver. My heart is full.

Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero. Marc Brown

If you happen to notice that your toddler is being unusually well-behaved in the grocery store check-out line, there might be a reason... A reason that, for various other reasons, you don't discover until you get to the car... A reason that, you realize with horror, classifies your toddler as a thief with a sweet tooth.

A birthday party landed us at a local farm on a gorgeous October afternoon.

Where, in the pecan grove, we all loaded up...

For a hayride through the cotton field to the pumpkin patch.

Sister was in heaven, sitting on a bale of hay jostling along. She managed to remove herself from the hay wagon long enough to hastily choose a pumpkin. Then, she was promptly back in the wagon yelling, "I in da twactor!"

Early dusk was beautiful over the cotton field. My friend Elizabeth is moving to the mountains of Tennessee next month. She tells me that she'll miss seeing the cotton fields. I understand, because the cotton fields are beautiful. This photo is for her.

At home after the farm, I opened the van and Sister's pumpkin came rolling out. And, it rolled down our steep driveway at alarming speed. She gave a teary yell, "My punkin moonshine! My punkin moonshine!" But, just like Sylvie Ann's, all was well. We'll carve it before too long, I think.

 

Sister and I joined Big Brother and a gaggle of third graders at the strawberry patch this morning. After four days of achievement tests the giddy school children ran through the misty, muddy fields like caged birds set free to fly. We picked gallons of berries. It was lovely. Feeling proud and independent with a bucket of her own, Sister took her role as strawberry girl quite seriously {until she became distracted by the irrigation pond and had to be persuaded not to go for a swim}. Big Brother worked hard and made sure that we have a bountiful supply of berries... at least for the weekend. Tonight we ate waffles and strawberries for supper; maybe tomorrow I'll make preserves.

This incredible task mission of raising boys, it often drives me to prayer and contemplation...


Lately I've been thinking about how important it is to simultaneously nurture and harness a boy's natural appetite for adventure. This is a balancing act that requires supernatural wisdom.


And while it's important to build up our sons, I'm realizing that it's just as vital for a boy to be struck with enough wonder and awe of the natural world to remind him that he's small and not invincible.
And so, we hiked to the falls.

Six cousins, two sisters, one zoo, and a beautiful spring day yields one fantastic Saturday filled with fun and pleasant company. Grace. And, if you give them a stage and tell them to dance everyone will smile for the camera! More grace.

This is the story of my life. Betcha didn't know we have twins!

Monday was beautiful and the boys didn't have school, so we decided to pack a lunch and visit one of our favorite local spots. We tromped through the woods, picnicked, and made friends with a tailless cat.