Monday, August 24, 2015

The Usually Unusual

I believe late summer always finds me extremely random.


It's some strange combination of too much sun, too much time to think, and lots and lots and LOTS of time with my kids. Whom I love. Even when they whistle. Even when they whistle songs that don't exist outside of their heads. Even when they are 15 and still mispronounce "legend" by phonetically saying "leg end" and leave me thinking tibia while they are talking Sleepy Hollow.
See what I mean...random.


I have to record a story right now because it needs to take it's place in the halls of our family history. But I'm warning you...do not continue reading if you are faint of stomach.
You may (or may not) recall that we went to Hawaii in April. Well we left a pregnant cat at home. With my mom. I gave my mom implicit instructions on how to deliver Persian kittens. Persians need help cutting the umbilical cord and delivering the placenta. I told her whatever she does, to NOT LEAVE the cat once labor started because they will let their kittens die if they don't have help. My mom took all this in with a half skeptical half terrified look. I assured her she's make an excellent doula and began to pray.


We got a frantic call in Hawaii that the cat was in labor and when Mom tried to help the cat bit her and broke skin. So she said something like this on the phone, "I'm bleeding. I hate that cat. I'm going to the store to get band aids. I hate that cat." And I wanted to say DON'T LEAVE THE CAT, RECONCILE, there are Band-Aids in the cupboard. But seeing as how I was laying on the beach and my mother was bleeding I wisely said, "I'm so sorry mom. You go get band-aids."
Let's fast forward over the part of this story where she came home to 2 dead kittens. She sent me a picture of the one live one and I had to ask..."Mom is that a dead kitten in the background?" Oops, 3 dead kittens. The good news was that about a week later she found another live one also.


Fast forward to last week. It was Grant's first week home from Trinidad and we celebrated by having friends over. On Monday and Wednesday, several groups of people came to play. Avonlea mentioned at various times during the week that people didn't want to play dress up because it smelled in the dress up area. Finally Mom commented that she thought the cat had pooped on a little pink costume. So later on Wednesday, after all our company left, I grabbed the offensive costume and had Avonlea throw it in the washer. When I opened the washer after it was done, I almost fainted from the smell. I took out the clothes and there was the poop, still solid after a round on sanitize. What had this cat been eating?? I scooped it up with paper towels and found myself looking at a kitten. Or what was left of a kitten. From April. Oops, 4 dead kittens.



Can I just say that this was one of the grosser moments of my life, and if you recall, I have four children, so that's truly saying something.


I don't really feel like writing (or eating) any more after that. But if I did...I'd tell you about my time on the hammock down on the island at the cottage. I took off my glasses and looked at the world, blurry and beautiful. Suddenly I felt like I was blurry, indistinct. I melded with the waving leaves and the laughing brook and the birds flitting all about me. I must have melded for quite a while because when my world came back into focus, I was looking at Rowan yielding a machete (it was actually a stick, I was still fuzzy). He said with concern, "You have been gone for so long! I came to rescue you!" Totally worth putting my glasses on to see each freckle on that precious face.


See I kept writing and I started eating trail mix, too, so that kitten story must not have been that bad.

On Sunday, the people who sold us the cottage came by it to meet us. I officially have new FAVORITE PEOPLE. It was amazing to talk to them and hear of God's faithfulness over the years and how He honors a Godly heritage. We were so encouraged and again recognized God's hand in leading us there.



Next time I write, it will be from a place of school and order and schedule. And I will live a whole year before I have the time to be random again.

This is a good thing.


Photos by Avonlea unless she's in the picture

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Whistling Boy Returns

He's home.
He's smelly, and tan, and laughing.
I got a kiss and a hug that lingered (in more ways than one).
My family is whole again.
And I'm happy.
His words come fast and furious and form themselves into sentences which are bullets of information and emotion.
Note the boots please.
Of course there were sentences that made me cringe.
"I changed my clothes every nine days."
"My bags were overweight so I didn't take my towel or washcloth."
"I don't want to go swimming right now, I'm not used to water anymore."


And sentences that made me cry.
"I was so sick for the first week. When I wasn't working I just laid on my mat and watched the spiders and ticks crawling up the walls."
"I burned so bad on the back of my neck, I was blistered and bleeding."


And sentences that made me proud.
"I asked them why I needed to know that word if I didn't plan on using it."
"The leaders left me in charge when they left the room."


This group of 10-13 year olds did a mighty big amount of work in Trinidad!
And sentences that made me laugh.
"They had a lot of dance parties at the church. I really cut loose on the last night."
"The shark tasted like aquatic chicken."
"I showed my leaders your picture. They all thought you were cute."

His tent at boot camp.
So he's home and he's bathed and healthy and whistling.
He's a vital part of our family and we function best with him here.

Thank you God for bringing my boy home!

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