gorgeous

"Canadian students Kate Macdonald and Janelle Blanchard recorded a version of Neko Case's brooding "Star Witness" on a school staircase. The result moved Case to tears. "Wow. That just made me bawl my eyes out," she tweeted. "What beautiful singers. I'm not worthy... Holy god. They broke the shit out of my heart!!" Mine, too. They accomplish this with a ukelele, angelic voices, a talent for harmony -- and a mission to save their school." ~the huffington post

memory and regret

I wish I could remember the time my children were just babies more clearly.  I look at pictures of when they were between birth and three (and I have a million photos of all of them), and I marvel at how small, how adorable, how different they were.  And it makes me wonder if I enjoyed it enough amidst the busy-ness and sheer exhaustion of it all.  I hope I did.  But my memory is a bit of a blur.
Did I enjoy it enough?  Did I appreciate how fleeting those days would turn out to be?  This is where memory betrays me utterly.  Because I'm quite sure I did, but what I remember the most is how hard it was.  And how bone-weary tired and stretched to my limit I always felt.  And how irrational and pukey and stinky and whiny they were.  That is unjust, is it not?
Fortunately, I do have enough pictures (smiling pictures even) to prove that there were plenty of good times.  To show me that sometimes they were cute, and well dressed, and clean, and smiling, and happy.   Hm.  Perhaps the mind does this as protection against the urge to have more children. :P 
I remember people ooh'ing and aah'ing at them and wondering what the big deal was.  It's just a baby, I thought.  You see them everywhere.  I see this one everyday.  Sheesh.
But I get it now, and whenever I'm out and see wee little ones, I have to stop and stare and marvel too.  Marvel at just how small and helpless and dependent and needy they are.  And how unbearably sweet.

*blogprompt courtesy of thoughtquestion.com

• this is the first day of my vacation.  looking forward to sleep-ins and Christmas movies and family time.
• I am filling my heart with this, this morning.  I find small living very compelling.  we live large.  that is to say, our house is big and full full full of stuff that needs constant tidying and arranging and sorting and scrubbing and washing. we have a big family (relatively.. is 3 kids a lot? it feels like it).  but perhaps this is no excuse.  perhaps we just did what we thought we were supposed to do.  however, it is done, and there is no undoing the past.  to do it differently is a luxury we none of us are permitted.
• I am inspired by people who do crazy things.  who just rip the box open and start doing, without even reading the directions first.  God grant me this kind of craziness.
• “[...] the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'  ~Jack Kerouac
• I am yearning yearning yearning for my garden again.  I have recently discovered the deliciousness of kale chips.  what a gift.  something that tastes as good (better?) than potato chips and yet is soooo good for you.  this is a rare thing.  I used to have a very VERY large kale plant.  I'd pick off a bunch for dinner and the plant wouldn't even notice.  wouldn't even blink, it was so big.  then I felt my life was lacking for a dog.  this dog loved my gardens.  he also loved kale.  very much.  too much.  sigh.  so, it seems I can have a dog, or I can have a garden.  I cannot have both.  ce n'est pas juste.  the kale I buy is from mexico.   MEXICO!!  this is ironic because kale loves the cold weather, and on the west coast, it can grow all winter long.  alas.  this is making me sad.  change of topic please.
• I am dreaming of the future.  my kids are not long for this nest.  this makes me nostalgic for their childhood, but truly I do not miss it.  every sunday at church (where the under 5's outnumber us) I am reminded how nice it is that they wipe their own bums now and no longer stretch out all over the place at my feet during liturgy demanding snacks and books and entertainment until I am forced to take them out for a lecture and a spank and miss liturgy.  truly, I do not miss those days.  it is no easier now, but at least I no longer live in a state of constant physical exhaustion and sleep deprivation.  the battle lines are redrawn (and are no less daunting) but we have been tempered for this season.

• nippy outside, but the sun shines down
• no 'paid' work today, but conquered a monstrous to-do list
• reward myself with hot cup of tea and a slice of Lunar Rhubarb Cake that my mom brought over (it's an old family recipe shared by my mum-in-law)
• K on-call tonight sort-of, which is just as well.  Just looked up the calorie count for that delicious piece of cake - 420!!!  krikey! Looks like I'll be going to the pool to work this one off. (it was so worth it :)  
• listening to: Bruce Cockburn: Christmas.  Makes me wish I were holed up in a snowy cabin somewhere beside a roaring fire. I am not a purist of any sort when it comes to Christmas music, and my repository includes everything from Bony M to Enya, Amy Grant to Bing Crosby.  So I'm pretty open to new stuff that comes along.  Pink Martini put out a new Christmas album just last year, "Joy to the World", and it is pretty sweet listening.  No Santa Baby schlock here.  They keep it pretty international.  I like that.
• and just in case you haven't had a good cry this week, I leave you with this song.  The first time I played it for my kids, they were little, and they cried their eyes out.  I got pretty teary myself.  Middle son used to start crying when it would come on "No!! Turn it off!!" and run from the room with his ears covered.  It was the saddest song he'd ever heard and it made him cry every time.  My sweet boy. 
• can y'all recommend any essential Christmas listening?

the christian view of marriage:

"...that's what a marriage covenant is, it ties you to the mast, to get you through those times. it creates a stability. "

"Like everything which is not the involuntary result of fleeting emotion, but rather the creation of time and will, any marriage happy or unhappy is infinitely more interesting than any romance, however passionate."
~Auden

"If you don't know the discipline of making a promise, and sticking with it, you are not actually a free person. You are a slave to your impulses, to the moment, to your feelings" ~Keirkegaard

"deep character change through deep friendship."

goes well with previous post:

this also brings to mind a good article by Naomi Klein I recently read, called The American Hangover.
Some good thoughts here.

in which I covet:

 

• Christmas in Montréal.  This is on the list of 'things I must do before I die.
• I want a root cellar.  We've got a friend who's always talking about his grandma, and her root cellar (yes, this really does come up on conversation.. I'm not sure how).  But it makes me so jealous!  Her garden grown fruits and vegetables keep for months in her root cellar.  There's just something so rustic and wholesome and amazing about this.  With all our modern conveniences, we have no way of doing this besides an old-fashioned dug-in-the-dirt root cellar.  love it.  want it.
• a vegetable garden.  I have some raised beds, but then I got a dog, and the dog ate it all.  and what he couldn't eat he dug up anyway and scattered throughout the yard.  le sigh.  
• a wood stove.  there's just something so homey about a fire burning in a wood stove. and practical.  my in-laws have one, and the last time we had a days long power outage (what a weird word.. out-age), anyway, they kept warm and toasty and well fed with warm food cooked atop their wood stove the whole time. so jealous.  want one.
• a sauna (sow-nah I'm told).  there's one at our local pool.  a dry one.  I love to sit in it after a swim and let the heat sink into my bones (I am chronically cold and keep a healthy stock of wool cardigans on hand).  I've seen them at Costco, but K scoffs when I suggest we could buy one from there.  I admit, it's a little plebian.  like buying a wedding dress at walmart. but they discount! ah well.
• an awesome pair of cowboy boots.  I've got a friend who used to wear these great cowboy boots with everything, jeans, skirts, dresses.  I admit, you have to have a certain amount of panache to carry it off, but I'm willing to gamble.  I lovelovelove cowboy boots.
• ha, I just noticed this list has developed a bit of a theme.  Seems the only thing left to add to this list is an acreage for it all.  yes please! :D

what has this year taught me?

1. remembering this song this morning.  It is defiantly celebratory, and listening to the lyrics, you might be struck by how tragic a story it seems, but he isn't broken.  It's so good.  It fortifies me every time I hear it.  And we did.  We made it through that year.  And we're making it through this year.  I'm feeling celebratory.  I think I need to focus on more, MORE than just being grateful.  But be joyous.  Celebratory.  Life is trying, life is arduous, kids are draining, worries are persistent, the litany of daily exasperations is relentless, but I am joyous.  I am glad.  I have stopped, and looked around me, and considered my lot, and I will celebrate.  God is good.
2. career, career.   this has been on my mind.  do I ponder this here?  online?  really?  well, yes I do.  perhaps because so many keep asking me "so, are you wanting your own class?".  Maybe someday, but now?  As much as I want a hole in the head.  I don't want a career right now.   Life is busy enough.  I have a job.  It pays well enough.  It may not be clockwork regular, but I like it that way.  I suits my nature (I sometimes suspect I have a touch of adhd).  Which leads to my next point:
3. I really appreciate not having deadlines anymore.  I'm serious; I do truly and fully appreciate how wonderful it is to not have any exams, papers, reading,  looming over me, following me 24/7 like a little black cloud on even the brightest days.  Free moments could never be fully enjoyed.  I went back to school to finish an undergraduate degree when youngest boy was 4.  Then back to finish an education degree after that.  Part of me regrets having been in school for so much of their young lives, and mostly what I remember (realizing how faulty memory can be when mixed with present day regret) is how busy life was, and how much of a hurry I was always in.  Hurry Hurry Hurry!!  It was my mantra.  My master.  It was unpleasant, and knowing what I know now, would I do it again?  I don't know.  I appreciate my education.  Perhaps I would have done it again, but differently.  hmm.  All this to say:  I'm happy to have no deadlines looming.  To have time to parent, though my children are in their teens.  Time to drive them hither and thither.  Time to drive slowly.  Time to sew, to take walks, to read.  Time to bake bread and cookies and plan dinners and have people over.  Time to take care of med.school husband who has so little time and so many deadlines of his own.  Yes, I am exceedingly happy to be done with deadlines, and don't know when I will invite them back into my life.  Such an ugly word anyway, isn't it?
4. expectations: I am shedding them one by one.   They are sticky.  They don't come off easily.  What is expected of me?  Whose expectations must compel me?  What kind of mother/wife/sister/daughter/parishioner/teacher/friend am I supposed to be?  I have come to realize this about myself: that I internalize the expectation of others quite deeply (what I perceive them to be) and berate myself for not meeting those expectations.  Am I a good mother?  Am I a good matushka?  Am I a good  daughter?  Am I a good friend?  The exact requirements I could not name, there is no checklist.  It is... nebulous.  And my perception is that I fall short time and again.  It weighs me down, and I am realizing how crippling it is, and how imaginary.  I am shedding these nebulous expectations as best as I can, and learning to forgive myself.  I try to be kind, to be self-aware, to really engage with those around me, to love the person in front of me.  This is what I can do.  This and no more.
5. the days get shorter as this year winds down.  we have been blessed with more than our usual share of sunny days lately, and for this I am grateful.  Christmas is shortly upon us, and we have some exciting family plans this year.  But more on that in the new year... 

am I bored?

• template keeps changing, I know.  I like the simplicity of the dynamic views, but then I cannot keep track of the blogs I follow, alas.
• went to work yesterday with no voice.  a mistake.  felt like crap.  luckily it was an easy day.  most of the kids had their mouths duct-taped.  it was 'vow of silence day in honour of children around the world who have no voice'. small mercies :)
• just when I think I have crested the hill of this cold, whammo.  I am coughing a up a lung.  slathered in vick's vaporub.  I smell geriatric. all I need is some garlic broth to complete this beauty.
• this song is giving me comfort this morning.
• today will be spent slaying laundry dragons.  wish me luck.