When Life Interrupts Yours

Dad and Mama, Christmas 2014

So my last post was in September. This, after several years of blogging regularly. I have many good reasons, some of which I'll be writing about in the coming days.

At the top of the list: my sweet dad, who was in precarious health for a few years, reached a crisis point at the end of October, and he passed away on November 21. It's hard to even type that. It's almost impossible to even think it, much less "accept." And it's been almost four months.

My sister, who blogs regularly at Ministry and Motherhood, wrote an amazing (a word I rarely use because it is so patently overused, but in this case it's a good fit) post while Dad was in hospice: Thankful, Tired, and Traumatized. I point you there because it's perfect, written far better than I have words for right now.

I've composed posts in my head, but I can't seem to get them out yet. One day. For now, I re-read Alicia's post, look at the photos, and grieve.

Bien Dans Sa Peau at the Beach

My daughters are in the ocean, jumping waves. The water is frigid, just like the ocean at Old Orchard Beach, Maine, at the height of summer. It took them a while to get used to the water, but once they surrendered to its frigidity, they threw themselves in with abandon. Now they are drenched, salty, sandy, and ecstatic. I am certain their lips are blue.

They say that it's more fun to come to the beach with daddy than with me. He gets in the water with them, while I sit on the beach and read. There was a time in my life when I would have been in that water. In fact, I enjoyed the ocean then more than my daughters do now. My sisters and I paddled on our floats, body surfed, searched for fish and shells, and nursed a few jellyfish stings. A small price to pay.

Now I sit in a beach chair with my book, my big white sun hat protecting my face, my sunglasses covering my reading glasses. I must look ludicrous, but I don't care. I am ecstatic myself. The wind and the smell of the salty air and the feel of the velvety sand on my toes, sand that has just recently been underwater, are heavenly.

There is a narrow lookout between the wide brim of my sun hat and the top of my reading glasses.  I watch my girls through that slit. As I read, I look up periodically to check that they are safe. They don't need me as much any more, and there is freedom for all of us in that. I am able to sit and relax and enjoy. They are able to play and splash and run. And we don’t worry too much about what the other is doing.

We do, however, keep our eyes on each other. We look up from time to time to make sure that the other is still there. That's our touchstone, our way to make sure we are where we are supposed to be in the world.

They've come back to the towels to warm themselves in the sun for a bit. They have taken the time to tell me that I look ridiculous, which I know, but I am beyond the point of caring. In fact I’m beyond the age of caring. And it's rather freeing, this not caring very much of the kind of picture one presents to the world. Sometimes I do care. I take care with my appearance and my clothes and my hair and all of that. But at other times I just let it all go and just be myself, who I am in that moment. And the world can keep its critique to itself.

For me, this is one aspect of the French woman’s ideal, to be bien dans sa peau, literally, “well in her skin.” It’s an all-encompassing phrase with many life aspects. But at the moment, I’m well and truly enjoying one of them. And I’m at peace with myself.

A Heartbreaking Sadness That Persists

My family and I recently lost one of our beloved corgis. Jasper was only four years old, and he died very suddenly of an illness that escalated so quickly there was nothing we could do. We had to let him go.

Himself and I were with him at the emergency vet when he died. It was late on a rainy Sunday night (isn't that always when emergencies occur?) The day before, he'd played with Georgette in the yard and now he was gone. We were shocked and heartbroken. We expected to have him for at least 10 more years.

He was my shadow. I was his beloved. He followed me everywhere and nestled beside me when I read in the evenings. He lay beside me when I worked on the computer. His favorite place was my lap. I adored him.

It's been a bit over three weeks and only now can I even type this. We are still missing him, but we are slowly getting used to a new normal. Georgette no longer runs to the door when she hears it open, thinking he will be there. She always gnawed on his head when he tried to come inside.

Tiny Girl made this collage of photos a few days after he died.

He was handsome, he was kind, he was obedient, he was loyal, he was loved.

Big Change Number Two

After six years pf homeschooling, the girls are attending private school this year. It's been a big adjustment for all of us, and, like most big changes, has not been without its trials.

So why did we make this change?

Well. It's a bit of a story.

Miss Priss has been interested in this particular school for about two years. One of the girls' best friends attends, and some other friends from their drama group do, too. I've always put the kibosh on the idea because I love Ambleside Online, I love the homeschooling lifestyle, and I loved what AO held for us in upcoming years.

However, one day when I was at the library in Maine, looking for houses online, I had a thought: It doesn't hurt to look at the school's website.

Whenever I have thoughts that are different (or, in this case, completely opposite) from my mindset at the time, I go along with them because my thoughts are not your thoughts.

And emblazoned across the top of one of the pages: Still accepting applications for eighth grade.

Of course they were! And this meant I had to explore further.

And thus began the application process. In Maine. With no internet access except in the library. And no fax machine. Or scanner. I had to use the fax machine in the copy center ($1 per page!). Everything I printed out at the library cost me 25 cents per page! And we were on RUSH time. If she were to be accepted, Miss Priss would be starting school after the first day.

Not to mention the fact that we were negotiating a house offer.

After that, everything went like clockwork. It turns out they even had an opening for Tiny Girl in seventh grade.

So we lived in a residence hotel for a week while we closed on our new house AND the girls started school. We had to do their schoolwork at the library even after we moved in because we had to wait for the cable company to install our internet, phone, and TV service. To say we were frazzled is putting it mildly. But everything worked out fine.

The girls' school holds classes two days a week, and the other three days they have assignments to do at home. There are lots of quizzes, some projects, tests, and other school-like stuff that's new to my daughters. Studying for a test is a new concept for them. Lots of new required skills to learn, study questions to answer, worksheets to do. You know. School.

Now, they are getting more into the swing of it. They don't require my constant presence or assistance any longer. They are feeling more confident about their abilities. It's good.

I have to be honest, though. When I think about everything they will miss from Ambleside Online's later years, my heart hurts. So many wonderful books! And I also miss the freedom of homeschooling.

Everything has its drawbacks and benefits, right?

On the other hand, the teachers at the new school are committed Christians who they love the students. And that means a lot to me.

The House Unseen

We have a contract on our new house; I've yet to see it in person. And I won't until we head home sometime in August. After the closing.

Some of my friends were incredulous that I would head on up to Maine with the girls and leave the house-hunting to Himself. "You're going to let your husband pick out your new house? All by himself?"

Well, not really. Our agent, a longtime personal friend, would be with him. She knows quite well my tastes and must-have non-negotiables. And Himself, usually not quite as tuned in to my nesting needs as I would like, applied himself to the task as if his future marital happiness depended upon his good performance with this task.

Because it did, of course.

And he exhibited all the required and necessary signs of complete understanding of this fact. So I was more at ease with the situation than one might think.

The new house looks wonderful from the outside (I've seen lots of photos, thanks to Realtor.com and my beloved), but the inside needs serious updating. All the systems, gutters, and roof are newer, though, which is good, since updating those cost serious money. And we can take our time doing the rest.

This will be the third house we've updated, so we have some experience in this area. In fact, I'd said I didn't want to buy another that needed interior work. But I ate my words when I found that this house has a lot of features I like. There's an upstairs bonus room (with stairs down to the kitchen, too) that will serve very well for a school room. There's also a finished basement with a rec room, bathroom, and fifth bedroom. And a screened porch off the family room. The kitchen has a lot of counter space and a built-in desk. I love desks in kitchens!

And to be honest, I'm looking forward to decorating this house to my (okay, our, but only if I have to kowtow to someone else's opinions) tastes.

Wouldn't a claw foot tub be fabulous in the master bath? I think so, too.

Whither Thou Goest

July 19th -- He stood outside the bus station, reading emails on his BlackBerry. I pulled up in front of him and rolled down the window. "Hey, handsome. Where ya headed?"

He tossed his bag in the back and climbed in beside me. "Wherever you're going."

Sixteen years ago, we stood in front of family and friends and said pretty much the same thing to each other. Wherever you go, I am going, too.

Sometimes it's been a walk in the park. Sometimes it's been a slog. But we're going together, and that makes me happy.

Getting Your House Ready to Put on the Market

Since I've done this very thing recently (and also in the past), I thought I'd share some of my thoughts and tips on getting your house ready to sell.

Have no illusions: this is a big job. But it's also crucial. How your house looks to prospective buyers has a major impact on how quickly it will sell. Why? Because, frankly, most buyers have no imagination. They lack the power to see around your stuff to what the house actually looks like or might look like with a little spiffing up.

Essentially, you need to make your house look like no one lives there while all the time living there with your family and pets. This is no small feat but it's not impossible, either. Use these tips to help you plan your strategy.

Examine your house with a critical eye.

What are its high points? Emphasize those. What are its detriments? Eliminate or downplay those. For example, our deck was in awful shape, and we knew it'd be a big black mark against our house. So we bit the bullet and had a new, larger deck built. It looks fantastic. We also had some landscaping done to make our backyard more useful and attractive. And we hired a handyman to make some repairs.

Start with a major clean out.

This takes the most time and energy. The object is to clear out as much as possible by donating or trashing non-essentials and boxing up other things you can do without for a few weeks. Moving boxes aren't cheap, so look around for used ones if you can. I found free moving boxes on Craigslist and made the drive to pick them up.

Pick a place to start and hop to it. It will seem like an insurmountable task -- at least it did to me -- but I lived through it and so can you.

We started with our bedrooms and the playroom. The girls and I went through all their clothes and possessions and sorted them into three types: keep, donate, trash. As we sorted, we bagged up all trash and donate items. The donation bags we loaded into our minivan. We boxed up as much of the keepers as we could: winter clothes, toys, knickknacks, special possessions, books.

In the bathrooms, clean out all cabinets, drawers, and linen closets. Put down new shelf liner. Box up extra towels, sheets, and blankets. Get rid of old toiletries and medications. (I was amazed at how many hair products languished in my cabinet! Now that I'm on my new curly girl routine, I don't need these any more.) Then neatly rearrange what remains.

In the kitchen, ruthlessly edit the pantry and cabinets. I boxed up some things, threw away others, and recycled hundreds of plastic food storage containers. (Okay, maybe not hundreds, but it seemed like it.) Consider boxing or hiding away small appliances, like toaster ovens, slow cookers, blenders, etc. Keep your countertops clear. In my kitchen, the Red Steel Beauty still enjoys pride of place on my counter, of course, as does the coffee maker.

Minimize your personal decorative items, including framed photos and even books. You don't want your rooms to look vacated and naked, but you don't want your personal tastes to overwhelm unimaginative prospective buyers, either.

Put things in storage.

What do you do with all these boxes?  Rent a storage compartment at a nearby facility. You do not want to leave heaps of boxes all over the place while you're house is on the market. Not even in the garage.

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Store extra furniture so your rooms will look uncluttered and spacious. We removed a rocker and ottoman and a chest of drawers from Tiny Girls' room, and a bookshelf and desk from Miss Priss's room. We took out a leaf from our dining room table and stored two of the eight chairs.

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Deep clean.

After you've cleared out, it's time to really clean. Polish all doors and baseboards. Clean the top of the fridge. Wash the walls where it's needed. Magic Erasers will be your new best friend. Clean the windows. Vacuum thoroughly and consider cleaning the carpets. Scrub tile floors til they're sparkling. Clean out the fireplace. Eliminate all cobwebs. Dust light fixtures. Sweep. Mop.

Clean the carpets. You can easily rent a machine to do this yourself. Or you can buy your own for a decent price these days. To make it even more affordable, see if a friend or two would like to share in the purchase. Most people would only use a carpet cleaning machine once a year, so sharing one is a viable option.

Once you get everything just so, it's easy to keep the place clean. Sweep regularly, wipe down counters, shine faucets and mirrors with a microfiber cloth. Swish the toilets. Spray a cloth with furniture polish and dust quickly every day. That way, you're good to go when an agent calls and asks, "Can I show your home in the next hour?"

Spiff up.

Do you baseboards need a little touch-up painting? Ours did. I used a small sponge "brush" for that. What about wall dings? A little spackle, some sandpaper, and a touch of paint will do the trick. Could you replace any outdated light fixtures? We did in our master bathroom.

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Think about curb appeal.

How does your house look from the street? Aim for an inviting and welcoming entrance. I bought two ferns and set them on our front stoop. I also potted some petunias and set the pot on an old ladderback chair. I pruned all our Knock-Out rosebushes and ruthlessly weeded our flowerbeds. Plant some colorful annuals. The lantana and verbena from last year came back, so I didn't have to plant anything new. Wash and re-caulk (if necessary) your front door and its surrounds. Our red door looked good after a cleaning, but we decided to re-paint its surrounding woodwork. Buy a new welcome mat and hang a pretty wreath on the front door.

In my next post, I'll talk about inexpensive touches you can add to update or warm up your home. Really, you don't have to spend a lot to make a big impact. There are several things you can do to show your home in the best possible light and make a favorable impression on prospective buyers. Think about it: even in a fast market, you are competing against other homes on the market, so start strong and stay strong.

One of My Earliest Memories

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My very early memories are like still photographs. I'm told this is true for a lot of people.

When I was three years old, my daddy took me on a date. First we ate supper at Alfie's Fish and Chips, a restaurant long gone. I have a memory of sitting at the booth and admiring the bottles of malt vinegar. After that we went to see Song of the South at the fabulous Fox Theatre in downtown Atlanta. I can recall sitting in the plush upholstered seat next to my dad, trying my hardest, I suppose, to take it all in.

My dad remembers this outing much better than I. His short-term memory has been tricky for several years now and sometimes his long-term memory is faulty, but he firmly holds on to a storehouse of moments like these.

My dad and I look alike; I don't look anything like my mother (who was a contestant in the Miss Georgia beauty pageant in 1964, so it's sort of a shame I didn't take after her). My reddish curly hair and blue-green eyes are courtesy of my father's side of the family, although his hair was dark blond. So is my keen sense of the ridiculous. I missed out on his mathematical genius and strong strategy skills. I wish I'd gotten those as well. (Did I mention he was a nuclear health physicist?)

In late May of 2004, his aorta tore and he underwent emergency heart surgery, during which he suffered two strokes. He was in and out of the hospital that summer, with one health issue leading to another, the most upsetting of which was his lungs filling with fluid on a regular basis. We were stressed, anxious, and worried that he'd never be the same again.

And he wasn't. The lung issue was diagnosed as congestive heart failure, a condition from which he'll never recover but for which there are meds to keep it under control. The strokes caused some minor brain damage: memory loss, short-term memory issues, trouble balancing, and unsteadiness on his feet. He also has diabetes and blood pressure problems. He sleeps quite a bit and gets weary easily.

In March, he had surgery for a cancerous tumor in the lining of his stomach. The surgery was successful and no chemo or radiation were necessary. But he, who got great pleasure out of eating good food, now eats small meals and often has very little appetite.

We are all so keenly aware of the blessing of more years with my dad. We've always been a loving family, but now Dad goes out of the way to let each of us know how much we mean to him, how precious we are to him, and how much he loves us. He is joy-filled, and loves to laugh as much as he always did -- maybe more. And he's just as witty as ever. He has a gift for making everyone feel comfortable -- the pinnacle of graciousness.

And he loves a mean Scrabble game. We have the best time when we play. One day I'll tell you about the time I beat him with the word "quark" on a triple word score.

That's a brief sketch of my dad: always supportive, always loving, always loyal. I love him more every day.

My Absence, My Silence, My Misplaced Sanity

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In April, Himself and I decided it was time to put our house on the market. With all of our homeschooling materials and his penchant for working from home now and again, we need some more square footage.

Thus began a frantic and stressful time called "Getting the House Ready to List." Activities include:

• A massive clean-out of all rooms, shelves, closets, and storage areas, requiring many trips to Goodwill and other donation facilities. And a LOT of giant trash bags.
• Packing up extraneous possessions.
• Renting a storage unit and making MANY trips to store boxes of items and not-strictly-necessary-for-daily-living furniture.
• A wild flurry of home improvement projects we'd put off for the future, such as a brand new deck and new landscaping, new lighting in our bathroom, and the like.
• Repairs and touch-ups, especially paint.

A few weeks ago, this seemed like an insurmountable mission. But we did it and the house is now on the market.

Our current challenge is to keep our house looking like a photo-shoot-ready showplace where no one actually lives while all the time living here with one husband, two active adolescents, and two dogs.

Fortunately, the girls are old enough to get with the program to keep the house "show ready" at (almost) all times. I have only had to yell, "Did you FLUSH the TOILET?!" once or twice. They get it now.

(Aside in case you think we are non-toilet flushers: Back when our area was in the throes of a horrid drought, we began the practice of selectively flushing, and the girls have maintained that practice. I'm sure you understand.)

Also, I'm looking at prospective houses with a real estate broker. This sounds like fun, but it is not. It is fraught with disappointment.

Case in point: the girls and I fell in love with a house but before we could make an offer, it went under contract. I think Tiny Girl will never forgive us for moving too slowly on that one.

But most of the time, houses look promising on the outside, only to reveal a total deal-breaker once you're in the door. Another case in point: yesterday, we looked at a really lovely house, and I was slightly swayed until we noticed that the laundry room was in the basement. And not just in the basement, but through the basement and around the corner behind the stairs. Visions of schlepping clothes up and down two flights of stairs danced through my head. Hmmm.

Then there was the gorgeous large house in a lovely neighborhood overlooking a lake. I pictured myself sipping a cup of coffee on the deck and gazing at the lake in the morning light. Yes, the house needed some work, but still. Then we ventured into the unfinished basement, which featured its own lake. The standing water was almost an inch deep in places!

See?

Himself and I have been the teensiest bit snippy with each other. He said the other night,"I think the stress is getting to both of us." It's probably a good thing he's in Boston for a few days.

It's probably not a good thing I made homemade chocolate chip cookies two days ago and then ate most of them myself.

What do you think?

The Lovely and Useful Tradition of Elevenses

The girls and I recently decided to add that delightful British custom of elevenses to our schedule most days. I say "most days" because one really can't support a break when one has only worked since 9:30 or 10.

A more traditional tea time doesn't work for us because our afternoons are busy with activities and Miss Priss's math lessons at the tutoring center. Even so, I find that a break around 11 AM is best for us. Elevenses allow us to refresh ourselves, refocus our efforts, and reframe our day, if need be.

Refresh
Everyone is ready for a cup of tea and a snack by 11 o'clock. Our blood sugar needs a boost and our minds need a break. But what to nibble, you ask? Traditionally, it's something sweet: a slice of cake, a few cookies, a scone. I rarely have cake in the house and as for scones, well. . . . So we opt for cookies, but we keep a few varieities for elevenses only, such as Biscoff, McVitie's or Burton's rich tea biscuits, Jammie Dodgers (also from the UK but available at my Publix grocery), or a special cookie from Trader Joe's. If you'd like to do a little more, AllRecipes.co.uk has a page of recipes for elevenses. The Squidgy Chocolate Muffins look tasty. And what a great name!

Refocus
During elevenses, we go over our day's schedule and check everyone's progress thus far. If someone is straggling, this is a good time to point out what needs to be done and when. We also lay out a general plan for the rest of the day, including time to visit with friends or enjoy a favorite craft. Often, this spurs a straggler on to complete her work in a timely manner. If the day is nice, one or both of my girls may decide to take her remaining readings en plein air.

Reframe
We may find that circumstances dictate a reframing of our day. A gift of beautiful weather means that Tiny Girl will want to spend more time at the barn. An unexpected invitation leads to an assignment being  postponed until evening. My work schedule may change. We talk about these things at elevenses.

As the girls grow and mature, they will begin to work more independently. A break for elevenses in those years will mean a chance to touch base with one another, to talk about our day's work, to discuss points of interest and points of concern. I look forward to that.

For now, the girls mainly look forward to a break and a snack. And that's wonderful. I can ponder the fine points of elevenses and what they mean to the flow of our days.


Photo credit: H is for Home / Foter.com / CC BY-NC

Weekly Happenings:It's Showtime!

My house is a mess. For those of you who have seen my house, you know that it is never a showplace. However, it's really messy now.

For two weeks, Tiny Girl and her theatre troupe have been in crunch for their production of Peter Pan. I've been volunteering is several different ways during crunch. We haven't gotten to be before 11 most nights. We are on a lightened school schedule, but we're still doing our readings, piano practice, math, and Bible study. Oh, and the barn -- we haven't been able to get there as often as usual, but we're still going. Plus, Himself has been out of town, and then Miss Priss left yesterday with our Girl Scout troop for the annual Camporee weekend.

We've managed to stay clean, fed, and dressed in laundered clothes. But that's about it. So I'll be glad when we get back to a more normal routine.

Boy, has it been fun, though! It's worth the messy house, shortened lessons, sleep-in mornings, extra responsibilities, all of it. Tiny Girl is having a blast, and so is Miss Priss, who has been helping with hair and makeup. Opening Night was a grand success, and I heard that last night was just as fabulous.

When she got home last night, she said: "Listen to this! It's so sad!"

Me, slightly concerned: "What?"

Tiny: "I scared a five-year-old little girl! She was so cute. After the show, her mom brought her up to meet me and get my autograph. She asked me if I was really mean, and I laughed and told her no. But I felt so bad for scaring her!"

Himself: "That just means you're doing a great job on stage."

There are two shows today: a matinee and this evening's performance, which Himself and I will attend. Himself hasn't seen the show yet, and I can't wait for him to witness our child shine on stage.

After tonight's show, we'll strike the set, clean up the theater, turn in costumes, and head to IHOP for the cast party. We'll get home around 1 AM. Tomorrow, we'll collapse!

Keeping Vigil

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My dad is undergoing surgery this morning for a cancerous stomach tumor. After the surgery, he'll be in ICU for a couple of days and then recuperating in the hospital another five or so days. My sisters and I want to be there with my mama as much as we can, so I'm driving up right away.

I've spent many hours over the last few days creating detailed schedules and lists for Himself and the girls, organizing help from friends where needed, and taking care of the bits that need doing when one is going to be away. I've put my Amazon seller and PaperbackSwap accounts on inactive status. I've done laundry. I've labeled all Tiny Girl's costume pieces with her name; "crunch" for her production begins tonight. I've held meetings with Himself and the girls, making sure all ducks are in a row.

As for school, the girls' lesson load is a bit lighter than normal. They will be emailing me some narrations, and I've asked for two "drawing" narrations, both of which are novel to them. I've tried to play up the independent aspect of this type of learning -- if they buckle down, they should be able to wrap things up quickly each day and have a good bit of free (reading) time.

Fortunately, Himself will be able to work from home most of the time. He has two meetings he can't reschedule, but the girls will be fine. Two friends are handling the crunch carpool and two others are helping us get the girls where they need to be when he can't.

All this preparation has been exhausting and worrisome, but it will be worth it. The end result is this: when I'm at the hospital keeping vigil with my sisters and mother, I can be completely in those moments. I can focus on the most immediate needs.

Keeping vigil demands all our attention, all our resources. I've done all I can to settle things here at home. Now all I can do is trust that all will be well.

A New Gig: Back to Work

Yes, I'm back to work. Although it's not like I've been sitting around eating bon-bons or anything. I'm a homeschooling mother and wife with two active adolescents. We have two ponies, for Pete's sake.

And yes, I've wanted to pursue work that will add to the family coffers. (Did you get the part about the TWO ponies above? Not to mention the two adolescents? The college-bound part was implied.)

In the past several months, I've had the privilege of editing three historical novels for older children; and I'd love to continue these types of projects, particularly in the homeschool arena. I've written articles, one for The Old Schoolhouse magazine, and the other for Impart magazine. I don't do this type of work for the income. Although I earn money for some projects, many of these I consider a lay ministry.

And then this opportunity landed in my lap: ghostwriter. Some friends of mine have a company that provides all types of marketing services for businesses, and I'm now one of their content writers. Basically, I write content for email newsletters, websites, and blogs.

I'm excited about it. I'm also aware that I need to carve out and maintain distinct boundaries between work and school. Before now, I was able to wing it, since I only wrote for two clients. But we just added two new clients to my list, and the heat is on. My first priority is the girls' education. However, close behind is the necessity to turn out quality work for our clients. To do both and do them well, I need to make some changes:

• Plan, plan, plan. I'm fairly good and making a plan and sticking with it for our lessons. However, I've left my writing pursuits to chance, meaning I have them all up here in my brain. Scary! So I'm developing a calendar for blogging AND professional work.

• Schedule. I must be diligent about boundaries and not let work cross over into lessons. A schedule will help me do just that. Which leads me to. . . 

• Get up early. In order to be and feel productive, I need to get up earlier. I can attend to work duties in the early morning before the girls arise. That way, I can avoid feeling conflicted, stressed, anxious, and/or pressured.

Those are my ideas. If you have any to share, I'd love to hear them.

Wish me luck!


Photo credit: zen / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

My Article in Impart Magazine: Releasing the Dream of a Normal Life

If you're like me, the idea of a normal life is a teasing, tempting one -- and always just out of reach. Perhaps, though, chasing this particular dream keeps us from living the life we're really meant to live.

I have an article about this very thing in this month's Impart magazine, a particularly lovely digital publication. I hope you'll pop over and have a read. And I'd love to hear your thoughts afterward!

Strengthening Your Marriage

Every time I hear of a married couple divorcing or separating, my heart hurts. It seems marriages are dropping like flies, even in my church.

I stumbled upon this excellent article on how a Christian woman can strengthen her marriage and wanted to share it with you. Even if your marriage is stable (I consider mine to be), there may still be bits of wisdom here for you. In fact, I recognized myself in a few items. For example, I need to guard against complacency.

We live busy lives in an busy world. There are many demands on our time, attention, energy, and resources. Even so, may we never forget to actively nurture our marriages.

Photo credit: Caucas' / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

Letting Go of "Normal" Expectations for Life

Do you find that, like me, you tell yourself, Next week, we'll get back to a normal routine? Or After Christmas/New Year's/spring break, etc. we'll get it together? I don't know about your life, but in mine, it just doesn't happen. When I look back at all my weekly reports that begin, "This was a weird week" or "Things didn't go as planned this week," I have to laugh ruefully.

The fact is, it's a weird week when things do go as I expected and planned.

A few weeks ago, I read a post by Mrs. White on her blog, The Legacy of Home. Her words really spoke to me.

Life never lets up.  We often say that tomorrow, or next week, we will fix our routine.  Or when things calm down, we will get back on track. But life will keep throwing us something new to juggle.  The goal is not to wait until things are better, but to do them in the middle of the challenges. 

Well, amen and amen! What a perspective.

I have to admit, friends, that I often let my school plans get derailed by life. That's not to say that I throw in the towel at the first sign of distress; but I have a hard time staying on track in medias res (as per  Greek dramatics).  I lose sight of my short-term goal (as in, lessons to be completed) and find myself backpedaling.

One beauty of homeschooling is, of course, its forgiving flexibility. In times of trouble, illness, and great stress, we can adapt our plans to match our more limited resources. Yet this same flexibility can be a drawback when we continually adapt/rework/put off our school plans due to yet another unexpected event, big or small.

Homeschooling is truly a lifestyle. We educate our children in life, not just schoolwork. They learn -- by watching us -- how to handle the mishaps and unexpected surprises of the everyday. Are we teaching them that upsets have the power to derail our best efforts and plans? Or are we teaching them to roll with it?

As a woman of faith, I want to teach my daughters that God is never surprised by events that spring up, unlooked for, in our day-to-day lives. "Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans," said John Lennon. Put another way, life is what happens no matter what our plans.

I can't keep living for the day when things get back to normal. This is normal. We're all living in the now. So the question is, now that I've made that my reality, what am I going to do about it?

• Take a hard look at our daily schedule and how we spend our time. Are the girls wasting time? (Yes.) Am I? (Ditto.)
• Make more intentional decisions about how we spend the time we have. Can we better use our evenings? Does Tiny Girl have to be at the barn early in the afternoon or could she go later?
• Make room for more flexibility when needed. Could we stretch out the readings on this or that book without getting so behind we'll still be reading it this July?

That's where I'm going to start. Once I get going,I may discover other ways I can ensure that my lesson plans don't get flung into hiatus when life happens.

What about you? Have you found ways to absorb the unexpected in your day-to-day living? If so, I'd love to hear about it!

I'm Featured on Hammock Tracks' "Who Homeschools?"

Thanks very much to Savannah, who writes about her life and homeschooling at Hammock Tracks for asking me to be part of her feature, "Who Homeschools?" If you've been wondering what made me take the leap into homeschooling, nip over there to read all about it.

Savannah also hosts a weekly report link-up on Fridays, called "It's a Wrap," which I often join. Don't you just love reading blogs? I do, which is why I don't watch TV and have no knowledge of pop culture.

And I make no apologies.

My Favorite Day -- and a Dessert Recipe

Photo credit Foter.com

Thanksgiving is my favorite day of the year.

I've shared before that my mother is the ninth of ten children, so my extended family is large -- beautifully large. A great many of us gather together on Thanksgiving, and there's almost always a baby to pass around. On that day, more than 70 family members bow our heads and profess our great gratitude to God for the blessings He so freely gives.

We also laugh a lot. We are a fun-loving group. Miss Priss says, "I love hanging out with my cousins that I usually only see once a year at Thanksgiving."

Then there's the food. Traditional Thanksgiving favorites are there, of course, but so are Grammie's mac and cheese; beef bouillon rice; corn casserole; and tasty new dishes on the buffet line. It's a potluck affair. It's taken Himself a few years to get used to, actually. Our first Thanksgiving together, he skeptically watched me prepare a broccoli salad.

"You don't have broccoli salad at Thanksgiving," he commented, his voice dour.

I replied, "You do at my family Thanksgiving."

Once we arrived at my cousin's house, he saw what I meant. "I've never seen so many casseroles at one time."

For Miss Priss, this is just the way Thanksgiving is. "I like all the different foods because our Thanksgiving is potluck." My heritage is now hers.

This Thanksgiving, I'm bringing something for the dessert buffet. We had it for dessert at book club last week, and it is scrumptious. Since I love you, I am sharing the recipe.

Spiced Pumpkin Cake
1 box spice cake mix (I used Duncan Hines)
1 15-oz (or thereabouts) can pumpkin puree (not pumpkin pie filling)
1/2 cup water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour (or use baking spray, like I did) a Bundt pan. Mix ingredients together and then blend for two minutes. Spread batter in prepared pan and bake in center of oven for 35-40 minutes, or until cake springs back when pressed gently. Let cool in pan for several minutes, and then carefully turn pan over and release cake. Cool completely. Cake tastes better when made a day or so before serving.

Rum-Cream Cheese Glaze
4 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 T butter, softened
1 T rum or 1 t rum extract
1 T orange juice
2 cups confectioners sugar

Blend first four ingredients until creamy and smooth. Gradually blend in confectioners sugar. Heat in microwave 15 seconds. Spoon over cooled cake.


My God richly bless you and your family!

Thirteen Years Ago in November

October's glory of colors is a memory now. Some trees still sport bright leaves, but the skies are grey more than blue, the air is damp, and there are many days of drizzly drear. Ah, November.

I recall a November day thirteen years ago. I was heavily pregnant with our first child, waiting, waiting, waiting for her to arrive. In the waiting nursery with its freshly-painted yellow walls and wallpaper border of bunnies having tea -- "Afternoon tea for you and me" -- and new furniture, I rocked in the new glider-rocker, watching the trees bend in the wind under a gloomy sky.

I talked to my unborn daughter, addressing her by name. "We're all waiting for you," I said. "You can come anytime. Everything is ready."

Two days later, she was born, a burst of color in the midst of grey November. Life in the waning of the year.

Shakespeare As It's Meant to Be: In Real Life

On Sunday evening, we visited a Shakespeare playhouse in our town to see Macbeth (that is, the Scottish Play). This was a first-time event for all of us in one way or another. Himself and I had never seen this particular play, and the girls had never seen Shakespeare on stage. So we were all excited. Plus, this theatre serves food -- really good food, as we discovered -- so we were extra excited.

I'm of the mind that Shakespeare should be seen and experienced, not read. Reading Shakespeare plays is boring. I know; I've read more than my fair share. And there's a perfectly good reason that the plays are boring to read: they are plays. Shakespeare wrote them to be performed on the stage. That's the whole point.

Shakespeare comes to life on stage. The actors of course give life to a mere character. But in an even greater sense, the words come alive. What looks archaic and foreign and impenetrable on the page becomes clear in real life.

We talked about the story on our drive home, and I was greatly pleased by how much the girls understood. But if I'd read the play aloud to them or, worse yet, handed it to them and said, "Read Act One, Scene One, and get back to me," the results would have been far worse. Never mind the huge resistance I would have faced!

That being said, once you've seen the play, it might interest you to read it. Now you have a "movie in your mind" to go along with the words on the play. When you read "Exeunt," you'll recall that the players thundered off the stage, swords glinting, in that particular scene. Or you may remember Lady Macbeth speaking the phrase "the milk of human kindness," and, since you recognize it as an idiom, you can read her soliloquy and further explore its use.

On the flip side, you might want to read a play to prepare yourself for seeing it. Shakespeare's minor characters are often not named in the play itself. To keep yourself from wondering, "Now who's this guy?" during the play, bone up a bit first. But even in this case, I advise reading a No Fear Shakespeare version (or another modern English translation) or even a story version, such as Edith Nesbit's or the Lambs' adaptations.

We all had a fabulous time. The girls are still talking about their favorite parts. They can't wait to see another Shakespeare play and are already planning which to see. Much Ado About Nothing and The Tempest are high on the list.

How great is that?

P.S. Jimmie has written a most wonderful Squidoo lens, Shakespeare for Children, packed with tons of resources and ideas. Don't miss it.

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