The dog is so glad we're home she'll put up with almost any abuse
Null Taphouse
United we stand
Back to running in the cold
Duets
Why sure...don't mind if I do
Both boys were off on their first overnight choir field trip (there was a hotel pool involved)
A few of our favorite things
life, photography We are back from traipsing the globe, putting our jet-setting ways behind us, and let me tell you, that whole need-a-vacation-after-your-vacation thing is real.
Hawaii was glorious. The sun was warm, the air was sweet, the birds sang strange new songs to intrigue and delight me. I turned 40 surrounded by my most loved and favorite people. We wore ourselves out hiking, swimming, and partying...and then we came home to laundry and work and school. It's definitely enough to make one need a vacation. It didn't help that we all came home from our amazing trip sporting the newest, most stylish flu-like cold the airlines had to offer. A real doozy with fevers, sore throats, and plenty of coughing to go around. No rest for the weary.
But now a week has passed. Calvin is fully recovered while Jon and I are straggling along as adults with illnesses always do. Still, the laundry's done and we're back on a regular schedule with a few days of school under our belts, almost acclimated to the time and weather change. Only the dog seems unwilling yet to forgive us our absence.
Iris, bullet journaling, life, travel (1) I am not bothered by turning forty (2) When I was young I wanted a career—not a marriage and definitely not children (3) I am happily married and I love my son (4) I have homeschooled my son all his life (5) I did not have pets growing up (6) I think I will always have a pet as an adult (7) I wanted to be a veterinarian...until I'd worked in a vet's office (8) I am a follower, not a leader (9) I still sleep with stuffed animals (10) I love to read (11) I write book reviews for a magazine (12) They know me at our library, it is like my church (13) I love to hike and to be outside (14) I love living where we have all four seasons, (15) but I hate being cold (16) I am a hobby birder and naturalist (17) I studied evolution in college and still see the world through that lens (18) I am an atheist (19) I am a humanist and I believe in the inherent morality of humans (20) I am artistic but not creative (21) I love eat, and I especially love to snack (22) I love to garden (23) I'm not big on TV or movies (24) I love hot showers in the winter, cold showers in the summer (25) I love to get really dirty, especially in the summer (26) I am a runner—I run at least 3 miles 3-4 days every week (27) I cross and weight train on my off running days (28) I struggle with depression and anxiety (29) I use exercise and diet to manage these conditions (30) I love to write (31) I love taking pictures (32) I am an introvert (33) I am on the board of our homeschooling group (34) I am on the board of our library Friends group as the book sale manager (35) After any time with people I need a lot of time alone (36) I'm learning to play the piano (37) I love to sew and am getting better at it all the time (38) I don't get enough sleep (39) I love to cook (40) I love my family more than anything else in the world.
It's the most wonderful time of the year.
I remember conversing with my mom about Christmas sometime back when I was a newly minted parent. She was imparting to me that holiday's dark secret, kept by all parents alike: Christmas is hard work for parents. This should have been obvious, of course. Though we all talk about the magic of the season like it's a seasonal trait, the way snow belongs to winter and rain belongs to April, in reality it's more like Santa Claus—something that must be made, or at least brought out. The lights don't string themselves, the cookies don't bake themselves, the gifts don't suddenly appear, perfectly thought out and wrapped, ready for Christmas morning.
My parents have always made the magic of Christmas something vibrant and tangible. Traditional foods, decorations, songs, and activities elicit an almost Pavlovian response of Christmas cheer. But making all of that happen is truly hard work, and now that I'm one of them, a parent, that is, I'm fully aware of just how much work. How much back-breaking, spirit crushing work it sometimes is to make getting a tree in cold slushy weather fun, or to find joy in wrapping gifts for the child throwing an unrelated tantrum upstairs, or to go to the store yet again for even more lights because yes, that string you just bought last year is already broken. But the best of times are just an attitude adjustment away, and cold slush can be fun if you decide that it is, so the most important job is to decree the magic in everything that you do. Because no, it's not like snow in winter, it's more like radishes in spring: plant it, nurture it, and watch it grow. (And you can't actually count on snow in winter anymore, either).
We spent this past weekend, or week, really, Christmasing (for the amount of work it takes, it ought to be a verb). We strung lights, inside and out, we swapped normal dishes for santa ones, we stuck a tree in the corner and covered it in trinkets collected from all over the world. We listened to carols, we played carols. We made ornaments to gift to others. Boxes were carted up and down the basement stairs so many times the cat lost count. The dog is over this santa fad, why is her dinner late? And, finally, I sewed new socks and we hung them by the chimney with all the care our tired limbs could muster. We worked, but we also worked at having a good time, because sometimes your best times are just an attitude adjustment away. That's where the music, and the wine, comes in.
