Julie and Me

Here is my excellent friend Julie, who has taught me more about decorating than I could have ever learned from Martha Stewart. She's done it by guiding me to choices that reflect my authentic self, and then imbuing me with a sense of confidence in those choices. I have a feeling, however, that I'll never completely master the process, through no fault of hers. I think I'm missing the decorating gene. Sorry, Julie, you are stuck with this hopeless student.

Julie inspires me by her example. She is forever moving forward quietly and relentlessly. Cloaked in calm, she challenges herself to try out new things, to seek new knowledge and stretch the boundaries of her abilities. How could I not love someone like that?



A sea of caps

My youngest, David, graduated from high school last Sunday. Yay! For the next few days I will be posting photos from the graduation and the family party that followed. Here is one showing the graduating class from our vantage point on the bleachers.

Lee defines patience

In this picture, Lee and the boys are watching TV after an exhausting day. John's 4th birthday party had been celebrated on this day, but seconds before the party started, David tripped, hit the edge of a wall, and began to bleed profusely from a gash in his forehead. While guests were arriving through the front door, Lee was rushing out through the back door to take David to the Emergency Room. My friend, Isabel (David's godmother) went with Lee. David ended up with four stitches.

At home, when I explained the situation to the moms dropping off their kids, they decided to stay and help, and pretty much took over the party, thank goodness, because I was a basket case.

At the end of the day, we were all exhausted. So the boys seeked a familiar comfort, they crawled into their daddy's lap, watched a Winnie-the-Pooh tape, and soothed themselves. And Daddy reached for his endless reserve of patience to hold them both for as long as they needed it.

“Spring - An experience in immortality” —Henry David Thoreau

That's not the only thing that makes me feel immortal.

Pippa's Song

The year's at the spring
And the day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearl'd;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world!
—Robert Browning

I had a wonderful Mother's Day - both my kids were with me and they kissed me. All's right with the world!

Red frosting on white shoes

David christened his first birthday cake by stepping in the red frosting with his beautiful, white, Spanish leather booties. It was a heart-stopping moment, until we realized it was really pretty funny. Thankfully, the shoes didn't stain, the cake wasn't ruined, and we ended up with a pretty good story to pass on to David later on.

Phlox

This is the bed of phlox that we planted on the side of our old house. It was lovely having such pretty flowers and such a pretty baby to enjoy that spring.

Long johns and trampoline.

Oh, those long johns! Thank you, Hannah Anderson! I would have been perfectly content to always see the boys wearing either long johns or overalls. They looked so cute! I remember trying to show the boys how to jump on the trampoline, but I wasn't wearing a bra, so I held my arms under my breasts. Then, when John began to jump, I noticed he was holding his arms in exactly the same way. He was, after all, trying to get the jumping right . . . And, David, well, David loved sitting on the trampoline while his brother jumped next to him. Scary to watch and not at all what we had intended.

Hair

I have two distinct memories of David in the early days. First, his easy-going personality. Second, his hair! I just adored that hair, and I liked it best like this, unruly, sticking up every which way and as soft as a dandelion.

Home from the hospital.

After giving David his first real bath at home, we were delighted to discover a fluffy mane of hair. Lord, he had a lot of hair and I had so much fun playing with it . . .

May is David's Month

I remember thinking at the time that I didn't like how I looked here. Well, generally speaking, women are not exactly at their best 48 hours after delivering a baby. But now I wish I still looked like that. Poor David, he's not very happy about the state of things yet. Hang in there, little one, things will settle down soon!