::False Allurement::

Star Fruit & Dragon Fruit


Alluring name.
Blah taste.

{Kate M. and I picked up some grocery store oddities to sample for fun when she was down for a visit. We shan't be sampling this particular combo again.}

::Two Fires::

I love to tidy.

I tidy my home compulsively, and usually with a sense of great satisfaction. This spring, I have been investing energy in tidying our great big mess of a property. Great piles of gnarled roots and twigs have been yanked onto the wheel barrow and piled into one intentional heap. How many trips back and forth? 40-ish How many spiders, {gasp!} dropped from the dry branched to hang in front of my face? 20, or so. How many scratches do I now have on my hands and arms? Over 50. SO worth it. I love the sound of dirt and food bits being sucked up into the vacuum, but I LOVED the sight of all of that mess being burned. I think I'm a pyro. Thanks for passing on the gene, Dad.

The kids took advantage all of this by inhaling over ten toasted marshmallows each, and smearing soot all over their faces and clothes--unintentionally, but inevitably--and staying up way later than is normally acceptable on a school night.

Long after the kids were tucked into bed, Aidan and I perched on the lid of the well and looked up at the stars, unwinding and rejoicing in this piece of land that is ours to enjoy... and to tidy!

::Warmth Postures::

A universal happening among creatures who want a little bit of extra warmth.

{A few weeks ago we spent the night at Kate & Dave's. Aidan found these two this way in their little tent. "When Lijah wakes up he is going to flip out!" Kate predicted. But an hour later they had reverted back to their usual sleeping positions without so much as a peep-- or meow.}

::Death of a Laptop::

Just a note to explain myself. I have MANY beautiful pictures and memories to share, but haven't been able to conquer the learning curve required to live without my laptop. It died. And so did my ability to photo edit and do just about anything photo-related.
I'm sad. I want to cry.
I loved my Mac and will miss it dreadfully.
So, there will likely be a big gap in my spring photo-journalism until I can wrap my mind around a new computer.

::Rebuke::

Better is open rebuke than hidden love.

Proverbs 27:5

A well timed encouragement can pull me out of self-pity. A well timed rebuke can sting me out of lethargy and inaction. I would argue that the latter often packs more of a punch, and effects the greatest change. When a good man or woman reveals a weakness in you, prepare to hear God speak through them.
It is an uncomfortable pain that took hold of me when I received words of rebuke this past Lord's Day. But there was a marked difference between my response now and my response last year when a similar conversation took place. Last year I balked. Last year I justified my own path and philosophies. Last year I had my fingers jammed into many ears. Lah, lah, lah! I can't hear you! This day, I truly heard, and my heart broke at the truth of it. And now I have to get to work.

Yes, there is such a thing as malicious critique. And, yes, it happens in the church all the time. These "rebukes" come from people who do not look inwardly at their own hearts, but are eager to put others in their place. Such people are used to strike uncertainty into the hearts of faithful people. However, there is a rebuke that is life-giving. The Bible says so. It comes out of love to awaken the unwary, the apathetic, the lazy, the oblivious among us. Yesterday it came to awaken me.

My stung pride is healing, and I am beginning to labour. I will not let wise words fall to the ground.

::Pretty Packaging::

I went to a wedding shower last night, and left feeling like I had attended a Bible study. It was intense and moving. I hope that the ladies leave there with plans to model all future showers after this one. Not one gift was opened. It was a time of sharing the truths of our marriage. Offering them up to the bride-to-be as a blessing. We all were blessed.

I was asked to be one of four married women on a panel. Here are the questions we all answered, along with the answers I provided, although, in hindsight, I was the least candid of the bunch. Those older, wiser women, told their stories raw. The power of their stories came from the lack of pretty packaging.

1.We are all works in progress...and all marriages are works in progress...what piece of advice would you give a “bride to be” about marriage being... a work in progress ?

The "work" is in every moment. I have a choice to respond wisely, lovingly and well. Or I can respond according to my hormones, my fatigue. daily stresses... "Progress" is what I have seen when I look back on these daily choices. I see the results of choosing the better way more often than not. Yeah, sanctification!

2.What is something you wish someone had told you about marriage, before you entered into it?

I would have loved more examples of how to carve out a time for devotions as a couple. I had heard a lots about personal devotions, and plenty about family study, but what about study time as a couple? Aidan and I have discovered, on our own, the blessing of ending the day in shared prayer, and waking early to study the word side by side. It unites in a very special way. But it has been hard to be consistent. Perhaps it would have been easier to establish the habit had we begun on Day 1.

3.Please share one special time / memory from your marriage ...that would be instructive and / or encouraging ....to the women in attendance at the shower...

Journal excerpt:

I fell asleep on the couch around 11:00, waiting for him to get home {safely}. When I woke up I found him nestled on the floor beside me. Unwilling to go upstairs to our bed without me.

I have many such examples, but this one really stands out as an example of the oneness of marriage. Even physical comfort gets left by the wayside for the sake of being together.

4.Life is made up of mountain top experiences and valley experiences...please comment on one or the other experiences in regards to your marriage...and share with the 'bride to be' what was helpful for you in that experience...

Mountain tops: Our mountain tops have been very related to God's open hand of blessing toward us. We have revelled in His goodness to us. He has provided us with health, children, comfort and ease. We have learned much about the blessing of taking the abundance of what we have been given and sharing it with those around us in the form of opening up our home, opening our lives and giving of our time. Serving where we can. Along with this comes a lesson in humility. We have not gained anything apart from what God has decided to give. Each precious baby. Each new friendship. Each scrap of food. We accept these things with many thanks, and then seek to use them well.

Valley experiences: Ironically, our valley experiences are also related to God's open hand of blessing. As is often the case, with ease comes neglect. Neglect of our relationship with God as we coast along, seemingly steering our own happy course all on our own. But then comes a growing awareness that we have strayed from the most excellent way. And we become deeply unsettled. We then must labour, as a couple towards reliance on God once more. We have learned about the need to be watchful and to exercise self-discipline or relationship is lost and it affects the whole family.

::Two new quilts in the works::

I have shared photos of Karin's beautiful gifts to my children before:

Now, she is beginning to gather material for the last two. Sniff. Sniff.

This beautiful fabric will be used to make a classic white-based quilt, like the one above, for Isaiah. And then we will go shopping for girlie fabric for my baby girl. I'm thinking deep purples and fresh greens. Can't wait.

::Glimpse::

We parked the car and made our way around the front of the building. There was a door set into an alcove covered in graffiti. I checked the listings board to make sure we had the right place and we headed for the stairs. Up we went and knocked on the door. The door unlocked with a click and a girl, Jennifer, opened it up with a smile. "Hi! I've come with cinnamon buns." Jennifer knew who I was. She welcomed us into the small office and locked the door behind us. "We lock you in. We lock you out. You never know with the guys," she said. I filled in the blanks in my head.

In the room were four people labouring over loads of baguette and egg salad. It smelled great. "This is our office. Drop-in is actually around the corner at the Salvation Army. We'll meet you over there in a bit." Down the stairs. Out the door and back into the car because 'around the corner' feels far to two sets of small legs. No sooner had I helped the kids out of the car when a man in a red wind breaker, holding a Timmy's quipped; "You coming in? I'll take you to the back door. Follow me." Mike, it turns out, is a faithful visitor to the Mission, eagerly volunteering whenever help is needed.

We were ushered into the hands of Jelica. It became clear that the place was hopping with activity, and Jelica was at the helm. Yet, she took the time to walk us through the place and introduce us to all of the giving souls there. There was the woman who distributed toiletries to those who need them. {Caelah: "Toiletries?" She learned a new word that day.} Then came the kitchen crew who wasted no time in pointing the kids towards the bake table and insisting they take one of the chocolate muffins. "But we're here to give you food, not take it!" I laughed, handing over the batch of cinnamon buns.

At the top of the stairs was the man who gave haircuts. "Once I made a slip and off came the guys whole pony tail! At first he just reached back and gasped, but thankfully he said he was thinking of cutting it short anyways." Then the ladies who, bless their hearts, do foot care and massages. "We do this in our sleep," one lady joked making a massaging motion with her hands. In addition, there was a back massage station. Finally, up in the attic, racks of clothes for the taking.

The kids and I were welcomed down to the kitchen once more where all of the volunteer staff were gathered. We were pulled into a circle as the morning was covered over in God-exalting prayer. "Let's open those doors!"

It was just a glimpse. But it revealed much about the meaning of love and service.

Open. Those. Doors.

Wide.

::Snapshot::

Aidan took this last month, but it sums up my daily life perfectly:
Sweatpants & cuddles.

::Monkey faces etc.::

So, a few months ago we were part of a photo shoot for

Ottawa Magazine.

No, we didn't seek this out. We aren't CRAZY!
It turns out that a friend heard that the magazine was doing a feature on first homes, and they needed a big-ish, rural family. She put our names in and we got a call.

The process was painless. Two guys came by in December and goofed around with our kids. They set up complicated lighting all over and Click-Click-CLICKED away. There were a few hiccups. The boys didn't want to sit still, of course. And Isaiah smashed a glass water pitcher all over the floor at one point. But the photographers patiently waited it out.

Our photo appeared in this month's Ottawa Magazine.
I still haven't got a copy, but Remi posted his photos on his blog:
REMI THERAULT le blog

As you can see, it is not a polished picture. Aidan has a rip in his slipper. And Remi wanted Elijah to make a goofy face-he was happy to oblige. But, hey, we're in a magazine!
Very fun.

::Hint. Hint.::

::Live with Us::

I was reading "Bent Hope" and having my heart broken. Gabriel was on my lap and noticed that I was crying.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, mommy's reading about people who don't have homes and have to live on the streets."

And I suddenly found myself overcome with a desire for affirmation. Please, Lord, let this boy respond. Let me see that he hears and understands me. Let me see that you have placed tenderness in his heart.
And then;

"Well, they don't have money. But we have money, and we have a house. So, they can come live here!"

Thank You.

::Please Do::

CLICK and please PRAY.

::White Magnolia's::Firewood Doors::

I've had this tiny magazine clipping pinned up on my wall for a year now. It offers a quick decorating idea: wallpaper your door pannels! I never had any intention of putting up wallpaper anywhere in my house, but I knew I could simply paint my way to the same effect. Inspiration was finally nudged into action.


These newly hung doors offered a perfect pair of blank canvases. . .

::Fortune Farms Sugar Bush::

March Break. How to keep my restless critters busy? My March Break activity criteria: Fun. Free. This is tricky, as most free activities involve the outdoors, which is a wee bit mucky and cold in March. But then this beautiful spot of warm weather came our way and we jumped on the chance.

We have a wealth of Sugar Bush camps around here, but some have become too big for comfort, with packed parking lots and ridiculous prices for what they offer. A few, however, have kept things simple. Fortune Farms is basically an open door syrup-making getup. You pull in, and wander in and out of doors, as you please, until someone comes along to explain it all to you. It seems to be a fantastic year for the syrup industry. The vats were brimming with sap. The owners figure they will have 5 weeks of good "running sap", as opposed to last year's single week.

We parked ourselves at a picnic table in the sunshine after our tour and consumed an appropriate lunch of blueberry pancakes, whipping cream, fruit and pure syrup fresh from the shop. Mmmm. {Although Karin begged to differ; "Cold pancakes! Yuck!"}

We set off on a "hike" after lunch. It was warm enough to shed our coats, and sunny enough to squint against the bright snow remaining under the shelter of the trees. It was beautiful... except for the sap lines, that is. They criss-crossed our path at knee, chest and neck height for much of the walk. This meant that Kate and I, burdened by heavy and awkward back-carriers, had to crouch way down to get under them. My legs were burning after the third line.

We were rewarded at the end of the walk with syrup taffy on snow. One of the best tastes in the world.

::Basement Door::

Oh, the little things...
The unexpected blessing of finishing a house slowly is the magnified thrill each new step provides. As of last Saturday, our scary basement stairs have a door. This is a timely development, as Isaiah is beginning to toddle.

Thought had to be put into this door. It swings out into our main living area, so will never be able to rest open. However, with the basement in mind for a future playroom, we didn't like the idea of having the kids closed off without a way of keeping an ear open. So, I came up with a compromise: a door with a window. There are fun options for the opening. I may hang some decorative shutters that can open and close. I may string up some french fabric as a curtain... Decisions for another day.

My inspiration for the door style came from doors such as these:

While hinges such as the ones on cathedral doors and ancient sheep gates are not within our means, the simple black hinges and defined wood shapes make the door look like it was meant to: a glorified farmhouse door.

As always, I am amused to look back at my old sketches and find that I have followed through with my visions so closely:

Cox & Cox 2009

I haven't posted PRETTY just for the sake of pretty lately...
Cox & Cox 2009
{I think I have Sticker Maker envy}

::Isaiah's First::

He's One today.

::A little bit of lemon goes a long way::

Our van pulled off the highway at the Bank Street exit. We were six cars back, but I saw the scruffy guy holding the sign that said; "HUNGRY. Every bit helps..." The teenagers I was chauffeuring began to squirm in their seats as he drew near. I could tell the young guy in my front passenger seat was dying to press the automatic lock button to his right. But I had another idea entirely. I asked the boy in the middle to look under my seat for the baking tin. I asked him to pass it to me. And when the hungry man came to my window I offered him a lemon tart.

"Oh, thank you ma'am! God bless you!" And in a unrehearsed, raw, heartbreakingly genuine way, he tossed his sign on the grass by the side of the road and began devouring that tart with such fervour, had I not been driving away, I would have offered him the whole tin.

Maybe these men and women take the money we give them and spend it in a way that we deem

"unstewardly." But no matter the habits they have picked up along the way, no matter what ends to what means, they are living a hard, hard life. And they are walking up and down those highway exits because an unpleasant road has led them there. Our hearts should be soft when they tap on our car windows.

Now, one month later, I have received word from one of our inner city missions. I had asked what I could do to help, even from such a distance. She said I could bake. I immediately thought of that lemon tart. I can do that. My kids and I will stir ingredients together each week, and pray together than that food brings another soul off the streets and into that building where they will meet kindness and hope.

It's a start. A small step. But, even a little goes a long way.

::Gabriel's Day::

Why not take our kids on dates? I heard this concept a few weeks ago and took a liking to it. I recall going on dates with my Dad as a kid, just him and me: a bike ride to the river for a picnic lunch, a trip to the Museum of Nature followed by ice cream . . . And perhaps it's more important to make this effort when there are more children vying for your time. Aidan's dad made sure to spend one-on-one time with each of his boys. No competing for attention. No trying to be heard over the dinner din. And I, for one, relish the chance to indulge each of mine according to their passions.

Date #1 was bestowed upon Gabriel, as his birthday conveniently fell in the path of this burgeoning tradition. I was given the honour this time around, since it was a work day for Aidan. With Isaiah freshly tucked in for a nap, and my two eldest off to school, my newly-three boy and I went first to Chapters. I had every intention of buying him a few books that took his fancy, but instead we settled on one of these:

{Eco-points for me! It's all recycled material, and the driver's helmet-light is powered by pumping the dune buggy up and down. Cool.}

We chatted over a cookie at Starbucks. Gabriel spent more time under the table with his new toy than in his seat. Next, we popped into Walmart to gather a few snacks for the movie: juice boxes and Whoppers. Finally, we grabbed tickets at the AMC for the only kids movie showing at the moment; Hotel for Dogs:

And I must admit, I enjoyed it thoroughly. I likely enjoyed it more than my little man. He brought all of his textbook three-ishness to the experience. First I had to disavow him of the notion that a "big monster" would come up on the screen. {If we had come to a viewing of Monsters v. Aliens, there would have been a problem.} Next, he had to be taught about the fine art of whispering. "Look at the dogs, mommy! They're chasing that car!" He did a pee-pee dance at one point and I rushed him to the toilet. And by the end he simply "wanted to go home."

So, yeah, the movie thing should be limited those 5 years and up, perhaps. But the whole outing was great fun. Gabriel had me to himself and blabbered on a mile a minute. I translated his dialogue to the strangers he was addressing. We walked hand-in-hand and took our time. . . It was good. Aidan will accompany Elijah on the next date. And Caelah and I will head out after that. We figure every other month or so we can afford to take one of the kids out.

And, oh, there's more! On Gabriel's Day he got to choose the menu. We had french toast for breakfast. We made mini pizzas for dinner, {I let them use cookie cutters to cut their cheese into fun shapes: hearts, stars, butterflies...} And the evening was topped off with JUMBO rainbow cookies for dessert.

I think I LOVE Date Days!

::Watercolors::

{Japanese Lanterns in watercolor}

I received a set of watercolor paints for Christmas. I think I am in love with the possibilities, but intimidated to the point of paralysis by the learning curve. . . I'll let y'a know.

::Happy Heart Day::

::Careful hands::

I met with the man whose careful hands took my four children from my womb. Those of you who have been blessed with natural births will not, perhaps, appreciate the dependence a C-section-mama has on her surgeon. Apart from staying calm and praying a lot, and apart from dealing as best I can with the pain afterwards, it is all up to him.

This particular man has earn my trust four times over for so many reasons. He has always been supportive of our desire for a large family; "You're body is very good at this, so keep going, I say!" He sometimes speaks about the hockey game while we're in surgery. Partly this is a diversion tactic so I feel calm. Partly it's because he is genuinely at ease with what he does. And he has delivered all of my children well. There are many things that can go wrong along the way, but he has not erred yet with our little family.

So yesterday he and I had a frank discussion about the next months. He told me that he would start to look very closely at my health around 24 weeks. For the next ten weeks I can carry on as usual, exercising lightly, carrying groceries etc. But after 24 weeks he will look for signs that the baby is putting too much pressure on my uterus. If so, a season of trial will begin for our family. I will have to keep walking to a minimum. I will not be able to pick up my children. I won't be able to grocery shop without someone along to do the lifting. . . I will be on mission to keep this baby inside me for as long as I can. 28 weeks is the threshold I need to cross for baby to have a good chance.

Sigh.

It's an odd prayer, but if I had to put words to my request it would be; pray for my uterus. Pray that it holds this baby well into maturity. And pray that I find the resources I need to run this household, possibly from the confines of the couch.

Hearts in Nature

{Eyeglasses::Sandpit::Pansy}

{Mountains::Daisy::TreeTrunk}

I see Hearts

Heart Day is coming up.
I see them everywhere:

I found a Heart in our woodpile.
Can you see it?

What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sound of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time. . . That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war. . .
::Jonathan Safran::"Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close::