A Day of Borrowed Joys

Three little ones came to stay

I wondered if would remember how

but it was a good beginning

when he ran and catapulted himself into my arms for a hello

and I did remember how to hold a book and a 4 year old

and a pillow and a blankie

all at the same time
and do voices, too

The heavy warmth of their heads on my shoulders
and little hands helping turn pages

brought actual tears
when Evan came in to listen to a bit of Hermit Crab's adventures and
smiled a small smile of his own remembering

Later, she carefully tucked her tooth under the pillow

because of course the tooth fairy would find her at my house
(lucky for me, the Tooth Fairy remembered)
and I wondered at how quickly they called it my room and my bed
and gave whole-hearted kisses and hugs goodnight
and then, just like that
fell peacefully asleep

Today was full of why home is always best
Because no offense, but these scrambled eggs taste wierd
and yes it is pretty but actually it's not a FULL moon
because that was yesterday
Actually it's a teeny, tiny bit of a waning gibbous

She said it with a patient shake of her head

and such forbearance for my ignorance

and I remember how I used to amaze my children equally well

by knowing either everything or nothing

as two little boys needed constant information

And I found myself reaching way back to give answers to questions

that came every 5 minutes

Like why does some popcorn grow inside little paper bags

or

Why can't we go to Target to get some better toys than these ones

or my favorite, with stomach clutched

Kellie, I'm actually starving to deaf

Not 10 minutes after yet another bowl of goldfish and a banana

disappeared into his mouth

I remember but my rhythm is off

Now my kids know how to cook

and google

Tonight they're snug under blankets for movie night

Dreaming of the unheard of decadence

of Lucky Charms and Cocoa Puffs for breakfast

because I'm one of those moms

hoping it will make up for no pancakes

and being a bit late for picking up after school

But I have to rush off into a crazy day tomorrow

and I'll miss them

I'm glad there will be other little ones coming to stay soon

And other chances for proper Saturday breakfasts

And I sit here, still at last, thinking

that my rhythm wasn't that far off

and sometime in the not so distant past I was this kind of mom

because today I wasn't making it up

I remembered

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Today's Assignment

Today's assignment was hard but I'm trying to remember that this is not a painting class, it is a design class. If I look at this assignment that way, it is more successful than if I just look at it as a painting. So, because the original is so integral to the design problem we were set to solve, I'm showing them together. The first objective was to make a master study, which is to study then copy a painting by an famous painter or "master."  I chose a painting by a favorite artist named N.C. Wyeth called "The Mill."  I liked the painterly, impressionistic lines and textures and the soft colors. The second objective was to analyze where the focal point of the original painting was and in my painting, move the focal point using color or texture. We were not supposed to change the painting's composition, only the focal point.  It was an interesting exercise. Not my favorite of my assignments, but good practice at seeing what is important. I did not have the painting skill to even come close to the nuanced lines and beautiful blending of Wyeth's original, but I'm okay with that. Maybe someday I can take an actual painting class and learn all that. And for all those who have ever looked at an impressionist or seemingly simple painting and thought to themselves, "I coulda done that! It's just little blobs of paint," I'm here to tell you that you're kidding yourself. It is dang hard to make those little blobs and seemingly random brushstrokes all work together properly.

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Have a Little Faith

One of my most favorite scenes in all the movies in all the world is a bit from an old Disney flick called The Rescuers Down Under. Enjoy:

 So, did you see there at the beginning how he was freeing that eagle from the trap? He had just finished climbing up an impossibly tall cliff to get to the eagle. He had expended great effort to do what he thought was the right thing. It is one of the great ironic moments in movie history when the panicked eagle knocks that hard-working and well-meaning boy right off that cliff.

But, the reality is, sometimes life is just like that. 

Eventually, of course, the boy learns that the eagle is his friend and will save him and so the next time he encounters a cliff, he FLIES off with joyful abandon, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that the eagle will catch him. It becomes an adventure instead of feeling like, well,  falling off a cliff.  I love that moment and am sitting here all weepy just thinking about it.

But right now, looking at the next two weeks of my life, I'm at the "just been knocked off the cliff" stage of this particular scene. I had a whole series of things so carefully worked out and perfectly arranged and then WHOMP, instead of going as planned, everything has changed and I'm having a little freak-out anxiety attack as I free fall out into nothing. I hate it when I realize yet again that yes, I actually am a maniacal control freak. I'm heading straight for the ground and not sure exactly how things are going to play out and I'm feeling what I will allow myself to call a little justifiable panic. 

Fortunately, I have a lot of eagles in my life. They are soaring in to the rescue even as I write this. I know that every need I have will be taken care of because it just works like that when you have friends and family like mine, but man, this free-falling thing while I come up with a whole new plan, it is not so much fun.

Check back for the flying part. I know it will come and there will be a breathlessly happy post about how awesome and fun the last two weeks were. I just have to stare at the rapidly approaching ground waiting to crush me for a little while longer.

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Cross Post from The Same Stitch

This week I got a lovely message from a friend and student who I haven't seen in a while. She asked me about the availability of a pattern I designed years ago for my LYS to make good use of 2 precious balls of Touch Me yarn, one of the most delicious-feeling yarns a needleworker can buy. As a result of our conversation, I learned about how she used the pattern to enrich the lives of her mother and her friend during cancer treatments. So, I updated the pattern, added a special photo from my friend and posted it up on Ravelry as a free pattern. The link is over in the sidebar. If you're a crocheter, please feel free to download it and use it to lift yourself or someone you love. I am honored to have even the smallest part in this woman's story and am reminded, as Mother Teresa said,

“We cannot do great things on this Earth, only small things with great love.”

Cross posted from The Same Stitch

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Blue Day

Today I was privileged to attend the funeral of someone I only met once, but who is precious to people who are precious to me. It was a tender service, full of loving tributes, sweet expressions of gratitude, and that most unexpected of feelings at a funeral, hope. Hope for a future reunion, hope for healing, and hope in a kind of life that doesn't end just because it seems to. I am grateful for faith, which when linked to hope, allows for grieving without despair. I will be praying that this dear family will continue to feel hope and love as they watch the sun come up and see that it is, miraculously, still beautiful.
 
I was glad to have that hour of spiritual quietness today, because the rest of the day was full. I just finished my assignment for tomorrow. It's too late to be painting, but here I am. The design objective was to use one cool color mixed only with white and black. I mixed up a deep sort of turquoise as my base color and started up very frustrated that I was getting going at 10 pm. In addition to the homework,  I have a few new things on my to-do list as of yesterday (new calling-secretary to the Young Women's presidency), and I spent the afternoon today trying to play some catch-up getting old projects out the door to make room for the new ones.

Breathe. 

In spite of the lateness of the hour and the fact that I can't quite go to bed yet because one more thing that has to be mailed tomorrow is not quite done (I can get away with blogging because it is in the dryer as I type), I like this little painting a lot. In fact, if I could, I would buy the original that I found online but alas and alack, it is 1600 British pounds. I just love this artist's work. Not in my budget, however, so my rough little student interpretation will have to do.

But there is another reason I really like it. Tonight while I painted, something new happened. Perhaps because it was such a tender, thinking and feeling kind of day, or maybe for some other reason, I got completely lost in the process of creating. I felt everything else in the world sort of fall away and it was just me and the moon and the music I had playing. It was like I entered this landscape each time I put the brush to paper. It felt like waking up if someone came and asked a question or said goodnight, but as soon as I started painting again,  I was walking through moonshadows and KNOWING exactly how to mix up the right colors and fill in the blank spaces of my little world.  It was restorative and helpful and didn't feel like homework.

A funeral and last-minute homework. Hmmm. Gifts come in the most surprising packages sometimes.

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Easy Dinner

I'm in such a dinner rut, but sometimes, limited parameters bring out creativity. Tonight it was so nice to make a pantry/food storage dinner that involved opening 4 cans, a box, and an egg, then stirring. I can deal with that. 

Mexican Soup
1 can Rotel tomatoes (regular canned, crushed tomatoes work fine, too)
1 can corn, undrained (frozen corn works great, too. No need to thaw or cook, just toss it in)
1 can black beans, undrained (pintos, great northern or kidney beans work fine, too)
1 can canned turkey or chicken, undrained (optional, you can add another can of beans, any type, instead of using canned meat)

1 packet taco seasoning

Open cans, pour into pot, add taco seasoning, stir and heat.
Serve  by placing some tortilla chips or broken taco shells in the bowl, ladling soup over and topping with cheese, sour cream, chopped green chiles, etc.

Most properly served with cornmeal muffins made from Jiffy mix. You'll make me look bad if you make them from scratch.

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Another Tradition Upheld and Another Art Assignment

We have a few traditions that are as constant as the tides. This past weekend was one of them. It involves  food, special people, and an entire weekend of learning by listening to uplifting speeches from the leaders of my church. If you're curious what I mean by that, here is one you can listen to to get a taste.  We get to experience quite a few of these speeches over the course of the weekend and it is an important opportunity for me to take refuge from the hustle and bustle and re-focus on what I value most.

The food is legendary, a version of a spectacular breakfast that my mom started hosting over 40 years ago. I think it has always included homemade cinnamon rolls along with a few other things. It has come full circle for me, which is the part of the story with the special people and actually makes me weepy. In the early 1970's my parents had just moved 2500 miles from home and found themselves without family nearby so they invited friends to celebrate our faith by watching the conference and eating. Isn't that how it usually is? Faith and food? Anyway, families like the Muciarones and the Shipleys became part of my adopted extended family.  Over the years as our family grew, the breakfast became mostly a gathering of relatives: more and more kids, then spouses, then grandchildren. At its peak, we sometimes had 25 people all living nearby, all family.

Now it's the Nusses on the other end of the 2500 mile move (my folks just retired to Arizona this summer) and we are endeavoring to gather round us our adopted family here in Maryland and keep the traditions going. It feels right, and I hope that the  memories will continue to be warm and full of love and laughter. I also hope that the gathering will grow and change the way my parents' did. 

On another note, in case I forget tomorrow, here is this week's art assignment.  It was about complementary colors. Meaning my entire palette had to come from just two colors that are directly across on the color wheel. I chose orange and blue. I had to mix up my own orange, so I technically I started with three paints-red, yellow and blue. From there I came up with a basic palette of 6 colors and I couldn't actually use red red. I could only use forms of orange.  When you mix complementary colors, they dull each other out, which is the opposite of what happens when they just sit next to each other, when they make each other vibrate and look brighter. I do love all this color exploration. My little painting is simple enough, but it is amazing that all the colors I used were mixed from just two colors.

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A Homecoming

The Semi-Annual Cinnamon Rolls are rising on this autumnal Sunday morning, so I finally have a few minutes to spare. I'm wearing woolly socks and a sweater, which I love. The seasons are changing and I am glad.

So far, the best part of fall happened on Wednesday. That was the day that Johnathan came home from Chile. It was a good day, and all the days since he arrived have been full of simple joys. I'm thrilled he's home, we're having lots of fun, and we only have him here for another 10 days before he's off to work and live on his own. Here are the photos:

Me, waiting with my traditional sign, which idea I got from a friend. It is so fun to have passengers from his flight say that he's coming or that they sat next to him.

Eric, me, Ev and Johnathan's good friend. Sara was helping with video.

We Have Visual!

The whole experience was recorded and streamed live to Ustream where my entire family could tune in and watch. That was cool.

That hug I've been waiting for.

And one for Dad.

This is out of order but, here I think is when I first saw him and realized he was really home. I'm tearing up again just thinking of it. My darling friend came to the airport just to take photos just so I could have a record of this moment.

Hugs for Ev

And Sara

And Reggie

Together Again

More techo-togetherness. Here's the streaming video of Johnathan talking to his brother on the phone. Immediately, he was able to connect with family all over the country.

He is happy and a little shell-shocked and wondering how to fill his time after being so busy in a very specific way for so long. He helps me all the time and asks how I'm doing and gives wonderful hugs. He is very attuned to the spirit in our home, so our behavior has been elevated and we are trying to be nice all the time. Yes, it may come as a shock to know that we are not nice all the time at home, but the wonderful, peaceful spirit surrounding my second son is reminding us that there is a better way.

He has no interest yet in the trappings of his former life, but has good friends who are shepherding him through this decompression period. People familiar with the culture of the Mormon church chuckle at newly returned missionaries because they are a bit kerflummoxed at the onslaught of everyday-ness that comes their way. There are definitely funny moments, but before I laugh, I try to think about it from his perspective: He's just come from a sort of spiritually sequestered existence that he put his whole heart and soul into creating for himself. He got up at 7 each day and studied for an hour-language, scriptures, doctrine, etc. Then he spent the rest of the day walking the city where he happened to live at the time, actively seeking out opportunities to help people, to talk to them about their faith, to offer to teach them about Jesus Christ if they were interested, etc. They only stopped for meals. He never had a car or rode a bike or had real leisure time for two years. He told us on the way home that he could have walked the 12 miles home from the airport and been just fine with it. In between all that work, he willingly excused himself from just about everything that any ordinary 19-21 year old would be doing. No video games, texting, TV, movies, dating, newspapers, rock music, etc. This lifestyle allowed him to focus. To feel the power that comes from sacrificing something. To find out what was important to him.

So, all this sudden ease and free time come as a bit of a shock to him, plus he is currently not equipped for the life that his peers are leading. He no longer owns a cell phone or an mp3 player. We're working on that. He is remembering how to drive, but right now, he'd rather be working or helping someone than catching up on the movies he's missed or just hanging out. He'll get better soon. It is a temporary condition. And every missionary comes home in his own way, so I'm just observing, not comparing. It's all good. As I said, there are some funny moments, but really, it is pretty satisfying to see a kid so serious-minded and focused for the moment. Isn't that what we always nag our teens to be? So here he is. Now for the balance. The job he has now is to take what he's learned and figure out how to integrate it into the ordinary days ahead of him, the ones that will include the whole world in his face all the time.

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