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Out of Body

One of the greatest blessings in our new home is a sanctuary where I can read and write and think and talk and work and pray. It's tucked in over the garage and chopped into two rooms. The coziest room, where I imagine talking with friends over tea and indulging my appreciation for squishy furniture when I'm working, is toward the front of the house. I love being there with or without guests, but I'm all set up with tea and cookies should someone special drop by.

I always knew the treadmill was evil.

But I had no proof until today. Today I climbed on for the routine torture,and the electrics turned on, but the belt wasn't moving. I briefly considered racking up the world's easiest workout as I stood there watching the calories roll by, but those results aren't taken into consideration by my scale. I tried various fixes, but it wasn't moving. I resorted to pushing all the buttons. The total mileage stopped me in my tracks. The darned thing had stopped at 666 miles. I kid you not.

Worn out

My birthday comes on the first day of summer. It's always made me feel special. To me, growing older means becoming more precious, because I loved my elders so much. My parents gave me my grandmother's Bible this year. It is crammed full of her personality and faith. Like the sword of all good Baptists, it is falling apart. 

I had all four grandparents and my great-grandmother until my final semester of college when I lost my grandfather and continuing until my first baby was born--a span of four years. I needed the powerful ups of college graduation, marriage, and pregnancy to counter such powerful downs. Mea was my greatest comfort after all that loss. Slowly the wheels are turning again as my beloved children start leaving me to create lives of their own. 

I've begun pouring my life into books, because that is my personality. The Bible will always be primary, but I was designed to study. I look forward to showing my grandchildren how many books I've worn out. I hope that they will wear out many of their own, because that is my faith.

Smelling Like My Granny

The first time I got a whiff of White Shoulders was probably an hour or two after I was born. My great-grandmother, Edna Pearl Root Durr Spotts, wore it and over time it became a favorite scent, signifying peace and order. It has a certain pizzazz that has maintained it's popularity since 1943. I gave in and bought a bottle. What a great anxiety reducer. Some part of my brain turns on the chill out juice as soon as the spray hits the air, which is impressive to someone as high-strung as I am.

I hope someday, 20 years after my death there are people to whom a small reminder of me can lift their heaviest mood. I hope I can heal others as she did.

Saline or Ann Arbor?

I ran off on a romantic trip with my romantic man. We need a new house near his new job, and I needed a better idea of the lay of the land. He was more than happy to show me around especially without the kids. For us the choices are boiling down to lots of space, but a little out of the way--Saline, and less space, but nearly immediate access to globally appealing amenities--Ann Arbor. There's also smaller exemplary school system--Saline, and an enormous exemplary school system Pioneer.

We'll take it one house at a time.

And Away She Goes

Marguerite Eloise graduated yesterday. The ceremony was lovely, and we were all so proud of our kids. Mea was a Senior Scholar which means she graduated with highest honors. She plans on studying neuroscience at the University of Michigan. Watching her congratulate all of her friends and carry out all the rituals and traditions was encouraging because I know she will carry forward the energy into this next more demanding phase of life. 

Congratulations, Mea! I always knew you could do it and I knew you could do it well.

Cheery

I spent today looking through a bunch of home listings, and I have to say it cheered me up. I love our house now, but I discovered if we get really crazy we can have it built again, only with the laundry separate from the powder room and more storage in the kitchen. There are a lot of options each rich with possibilities. Kurt kept telling me this, but it takes me a while to shift gears.

For me, an inspiring object helps. I bought this bird a week or two ago. Something about it spoke to my hopes about our move, and I have a feeling it will be right at home in our new place. She'll help me remember to live, love, laugh and be happy.

I can see the light in the future a little more clearly.

Going Blue

We are moving to Ann Arbor, Michigan. Kurt needed a better work opportunity, and he found it in a city we've often talked about for retirement. We'll have The Big House, and the University of Michigan for entertainment and enlightenment.  There are great schools for the kids, and the possibility of graduate school for the adults. All my research says that this is going to be a great experience, so why are we so sad?

Mea doesn't want us to crowd into her big adventure. No one wants to leave friends. We've put down deep roots here in Spring Lake. This has been a place of shelter and help. It is irreplaceable, especially all the people. 

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

It's getting closer every minute. I have so much to do, and it is a joy to do it. Come if you can. We're going to have amazing Redwall-inspired desserts as well as great family activities. Thanks, Karen Morgan, for the great flyer.

Fat Tuesday

I'm thinking about giving up the Beatles for Lent. They were my first taste of cultural butter, and the purposes it serves. My life had been one recording of the Life Action Singers after another. Occasionally, Doug Oldham or someone like him would take some risks, but not very often. My sister, with her musical ear collected an impressive knowledge of popular music from elevators and grocery stores. I was more inclined to return home to the safety of the Gaithers. 

Susan came over and for the first time in my life I was left unsupervised in my own home. Susan's sanctity was never questioned, so I was surprised when she recommended we ransack the record collection for contraband. We found The Letterman and were quite pleased with them. They were nice, but musically little different from Life Action or the other groups. From then on, any chance to ransack the records was a naughty little pleasure. That probably would have been the end of things if we hadn't moved to a suburb of DC. 

The kids in my new world not only listened to current rock and roll, they had sex and experimented with drugs. I was so lost. I had my first diagnosis of depression, and Dad pulled out all the stops--he rented Help! Mother would have nothing to do with it. Her disapproval filled the house making it all the more exciting as Dad plugged it in. It was hilarious, and the music was so fresh to us. After that, whenever it was all too much we'd get Help!

I still love Help! I love the Beatles catalog. Giving them up for Lent might not seem like big deal to some, but maybe there's a circle coming my life. While I'm not interested in a return to Life Action, maybe it's time for dry toast because I can, because of Lent.

My Yoko Ono

I love the Beatles. The concert "The Night That Changed America was delicious. I want the album. I want it now. It's one of the ways I tell off Plato, and remember that I am an artist. 

Members of my family tend to be opinionated.  The Beatles are one of the best ways to stir up discord.  From Mother requiring that Dad get rid of all his Beatles albums to whether or not Julian Lennon's blog is interesting.  We have opinions. Since my sister takes the hard line on Yoko Ono, I have to take the moderate view. At first it was because as crazy as it all seemed from the outside, John Lennon was more fully human after it. He wasn't right about a lot of things, but I think his heart was. This stance was largely to give me some room to breathe when Karen starts telling it like it is, until I found my Yoko Ono--the picture that for me, sums it all up. I'm researching The Plaza for my novel, so I purchased At the Plaza, a pictorial history.  On page 151, there is a picture of the two of them a short while before John was shot having a quick snack.  I wish I could post it for you, but I can't find it anywhere on the net. She is smiling, clearly enjoying their time together, but he is gob-smacked that she is there. His joy  is so fresh, as if they had just met. I may not like how they got there, but I'm glad they did.

Baby Girl Seems to be a Boy

This is our turtle.  When it was tiny we did our best to research the gender and decided it was a girl.  Then she went through puberty and grew long claws and a dent on her chest.  I still talk to him in a high pitched girly voice, but as long as I toss in some pellets and chase him around the tank with my fingers, we're good.

A Glorious Synthesis

God and art has long been one of my favorite intersections.  A few years ago I discovered Sister Wendy's videos and I am slowly becoming a Sister Wendy omnivore.  If you are a person of any kind of faith, you will find her uplifting. Her discussions of great art are very accessible which may be the best thing about her work.  Nowhere is this more obvious than in her book of prayers for children.  Each prayer grows out of a work of art.  The works chosen are the kind that reward prolonged study, and the prayers have the profundity of all things simple.  Get this book for the children you know.  It will be a blessing. 

Where I Come From

I have to admit as a homeschool mom I'm always hoping for a snow day so my older kids can stay home.  I miss them even though I know I've done the right thing sending them to school.  Tricky thing about snow days in Michigan, is living in Michigan.  We see a lot of snow.  It's always cold (try swimming in the lake in July).  We are tough and used to this, so school never seems to close.  Except for the last two days.  Wow, that's weather to make Alaskans shrug their shoulders enigmatically.  I don't care.  It meant two more days of having my big girls home.

Unlike wimpy Indiana where driving in such weather is illegal, Kurt went to work, and it really felt like the old days.  We slept in, but the big girls jumped in upping my homeschooling manpower so that we could finish the essential work in a couple hours.  It was fun, and I mean that non-homeschoolers.  It was really fun.  No such delight expected tomorrow.  We're back to the usual, well, as usual at it gets in a world where throwing boiling water out your back door is a science experiment.  If I didn't have such wonderful friends I'd be moving to Florida--then again, they didn't get a single day off.  

Hanging Up My Straight Jacket

There are things I've committed to doing in order to break free from the internal prison of fundamentalism.  

1.  I reserve my primary energy for my kids.

2.  I write both for my novel and for my personal blog.

3.  I take my friends wherever I find them.  I don't check ID, political affiliation, or theological preferences anymore.

4.  I make time and means for growing in my relationships, most importantly with my husband, but also on Shepherd's fish and in my local 3D life.

5.  I work on projects to make the world better, currently raising funds for St. Martin DePorres Orphanage in Tanzania.

6.  I read the Great Books for my own enrichment and to teach at the Homeschool Cooperative.

7.  Last but most important, I grow in my Catholic faith.

Musical Toothbrush

There is always that one cool toy you buy your kids, but wish Santa had bought one for you.  This toothbrush is my secret wish this year.   Sure two minutes seems like forever, but you don't notice as much when the music is going straight into your brain.  The things they have for kids these days.

See it here. 

Early Christmas Present

I am proud to announce my oldest daughter has been accepted by The University of Michigan, her first choice.  We are all so proud of her and her accomplishment.  She'd like to study neuroscience even though she is an amazing writer.  Whatever she does, she does well.

Internal Censor

As children, my sister and I were often at the opposite ends of the spectrum on things as diverse as I prefer the white of eggs and she prefers the yolk.  I love cozy rainy days.  She has SAD when she doesn't get enough sun.  She is the "Id Without a Lid," and I was always so carefully censored my personality and interests were a bit of a surprise for my loved ones when they came popping out several years ago.

I censored everything including journals and personal expressions, even what I said to my best friends, my husband and my family. I was always taking the safest route which generally meant I went nowhere.  I still see the value of watching what you say.  There are many times when saying everything you feel can devastate people and not for anything of true worth, but everyone has to have someplace where they can think out loud.

For me I'm designating things and places in my life for honest self expression.  Having children was the very first undeniable adult expression of who I am and what I value.  If I was going to have lots of children, everyone was going to know what I really want and what I really value.  For my kids I was bold, wearing that big old belly long after people smiled and long into the territory where they give you advice on birth control.  Getting the best for them moved me into homeschooling, another controversial choice that people feel comfortable giving their opinion on.  Raising kids has helped me raise myself.  It's taught me to bear with unpleasant feedback.  There are times when you have to say things out loud.

But not everything, you can speak just to yourself, to hear and to judge what you're thinking.  I've decided if people choose to violate my private journals, or the things I said when I was just thinking out loud, than the fault lies with them. I still deserve a place to think, and I'm taking it.

Bunny Tree

When Kurt and I were pretty sure we were getting married, I gave him a teddy bear with huge feet.  The plan was to replace the bear with babies with big feet.  As the babies began to arrive their feet weren't fat and round, they were long and skinny--bunny feet.  Like all good moms, I collected stories to read to them that shored up their sense of unconditional love, Runaway Bunny was a natural addition. 

It's that time when good bunnies get ready to run.  I am watching as each one gathers up tools, and ideas, and love to use as they face the world.  My job is to stay out of the way and to refrain from locking them in any closets.  I've decided I'm the bunny tree, and I will wait for them to fly home--when they're ready.

Baby Blue

We took Mea on her last college visit to her most likely school, The University of Michigan.  We enjoyed the talk and tour, as they stirred up many memories for Kurt who is a loyal alum.  I wished, again, that I'd defied parental guidance and joined Kurt there, but then the loss of my scholarship would have been expensive.  College these days is too expensive.  Minds need to be fed, no matter their income.  I guess with that problem you start with preschool and work your way up.  

In any case I was proud of our girl.  The Wolverines will be very lucky to have her.