Thanksgiving

Most days I am very stoic about loss. It sometimes seems as if it didn't even happen to me. Some days I even feel guilty about that.

But other days, like today, it blindsides me. Today we should have held our baby on his first Thanksgiving. And when I picture what that would have been like, the bitterness and emptiness threatens to overtake me.
WHY? WHY? WHY???

Last night at church, Birch passed out post-it notes. He had each person write down five disappointments from his/her life. They were then to crumple up and toss the least painful one, and on and on until all that was left was the Big One. He said that it was very likely that whatever was left was the One Thing we were still holding onto, the one thing we were still angry and confused about, the one question we still asked of God.

The Bible tells us that the only Wise One is God (Romans 16:27). Wisdom is Jesus and no man has an ounce of wisdom on his own. It is through faith in Christ that we are wise in Him.

He then had everyone record their five biggest blessings in order to remind us how good He is because all good things come from Him.

And he read the entire chapter of Psalm 107. (These are some of my favorite parts):

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
His love endures forever.
Let the redeemed of the Lord say this-
those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,
those he gathered from the lands,
from east and west, from north and south....

Let them give thanks to the Lord
for his unfailing love.
and his wonderful deeds for men,
for he satisfies the thirsty
and fills the hungry with good things....

...he saved them from their distress.
He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom
and broke away their chains.

He sent forth his word and healed them;
he rescued them from the grave.

...he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed...
he guided them to their desired haven.

Whoever is wise, let him heed these things
and consider the great love of the Lord.

I am only wise in Him. I do not, will not, and cannot understand His ways. But today I have considered the great love of my Lord. In the storm, He is there. And for that, I am so deeply thankful.

I know an amazing photographer, Miranda Dodd, and she took these amazing pictures of the girls a few weeks ago at the Chrysanthemum Festival. Check out more of her work here: mjdphotography.shutterfly.com/

Ambition

Yesterday my student teacher asked Mouse what she wants to be when she grows up.

"A witch!" she replied (as I close my eyes and shake my head). Could they recall Birch's master's degree from seminary for this?

"Oh", Taylor replied. I mean what else do you say in response to that?

"Tell her why, Mouse".

"Because I can poof people. And I get to wear a skirt. And I get my own broom (she loves brooms). And I can fly on it. Oh! And I get a hat!"

I can get her a skirt... and a hat. I can even buy her her own broom. As for the flying and the poofing, I'm at a loss.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

This past weekend we made a pilgrimage to our beloved Louisville. So many (so many!) of our friends there have moved, both seminary and not. My very wonderful friend, Kara, and her family (including Holt's very wonderful friend, Caleb) is moving to Corpus Christi as soon as their house sells, so we went mainly to enjoy being with them.


The best day of the week used to be Fridays. Holt and Caleb took a Little Gym class together and afterwards we would pack up and head to lunch either at Burger King (their favorite) or McAllister's (our favorite). I looked forward to it all week long. It's no coincidence that as soon as I got in town (and dropped off Birch for his work/golf thing), I headed to McAllister's to meet her.

Holt and Caleb hadn't seen each other in almost two years. Last time we were there, Caleb had strep, and our family has a genetic strep magnet and we stayed away. As soon as Holt walked in the door that evening (Caleb had been in school during lunch), he said, "So, do you want to go to the basement or up to your room?". And two years were gone in an instant for two first grade boys.

The second day we were there they had a family celebration for their older son's birthday. I got to spend some time with Kara's extended family, who've been known to so graciously take us in and share their Thanksgiving in years past.


It was so hard to leave there Saturday night, knowing we have no idea when we'll see them again. I will miss lounging with Kara on her most comfortable couch, underneath the world's snuggliest woolly blanket doing not much of anything. I should consider it a blessing that we have friends scattered all over the U.S., but that's a little difficult to be thankful for at the moment.

We also took some time to go to the seminary pool. We don't often have access to an indoor heated pool. Did we really appreciate that awesome privilege when we lived there? Holt spent most of his time in the baby pool, but we did finally manage to coax him into the water with Jules and his daddy (and even Mouse for a while). Mouse loves the little pool... just one big warm bathtub to her, complete with toys.



We went to our old church on Sunday morning, and while it was great to hug the necks of so many old friends, I found myself looking around for faces I knew wouldn't be there and it somehow wasn't the same. Time has failed to stand still there in my absence. How dare they?

It's always bittersweet returning to a place we've once lived. As we drove past our old house, I kept picturing us there... Carolina in her exersaucer with her big cloth diaper butt, Holt on his scooter and playing with the boys next door, Juliana in her school uniform and dancing in the living room with her friends. I turned to look at the door. I kept expecting to see them tumble out, ghosts of who they used to be. I see the kids there as they were and visibly feel time sweep by us all.


Living there was one of the greatest seasons in our life. I will remember it that way always.

Legends of the Fall the 2nd

Here are some pictures I took in our front yard amidst all the leaves. They're so pretty as they turn colors and so much fun on the ground. I'm just trying not the think about the cleanup coming next!






And here's a picture of Mouse doing something for which she's famous... plugging her ears up with her fingers so she can scream to the top of her lungs without causing herself any pain.

And my favorite shot of the day:

Legends of the Fall

Today we had set aside to go to the pumpkin patch. FYI, pumpkin patches close at the end of October. Instead, we packed up a picnic and headed to the Riverside Park, our favorite wading hole in the dog days of summer.

Here's an onslaught of fall pictures.

Jules:



And Holtie:




And Mouse:




Juliana and Carolina were pretty cooperative with all my picture taking. Characteristically, Holt was not. So therefore, I have tons more pictures of the girls than I do him. Here are my favorites of them together.


And Holt, who wore his new boots (because let's face it, the only other shoes he owns are cleats and we have to convince him to wear those to football practice) and was told over and over, "Don't get wet. Don't fall in. Don't get near the water," obviously fell in and was drenched and dirty (and oblivious) the rest of the day. Catch it here:


Notice the water sluicing off of his NEW boots! And while you're at it, notice his dirty knees and mustard goatee in the picture at the top (of all three). So much for perfect pictures! Ah, well...

School Girls

The 97th Annual Chrysanthemum Show has come to town again. It takes place every year at Stilesboro Academy, a historic three room schoolhouse that General Sherman spared on his march to Atlanta. It was built in 1859 and the "God and Country" that was painted across the front wall (that caused Sherman to change his mind about burning it), still stands.
This year Juliana and a few of her theater friends were asked to dress in period clothes and circulate at the event. They spent the afternoon there and had their picture taken by most everyone attending, including the local newspaper, where they were on the front page of the Lifestyle section this morning (see below). This goes on the list as one of my favorite Small Southern Town Moments. There's been quite a few. As resistant as I was to moving here two years ago, this place really grows on you.


They've already been asked back for next year.

Dirt Pies

But What About the Big Bad Wolf?

The kids and I were sprawled on top of my bed yesterday after a whirlwind of cleaning. I was lamenting that I'd always wanted a Pottery Barn house, one that's beautifully decorated and always clean. One where no one panicks when the doorbell unexpectedly rings. Carolina piped in with, "I always wanted to live in a house made of straw!"

?????

Party Animal

Walter is now wearing the dreaded doggy cone. I think he looks like he partied too much and came home wearing the lampshade. His expression, however, does not say "party".

We are trying to cure his hot spot at home. Mom took Winston to the vet with this and they put him under (all I can hear are dollar signs), shaved his leg and applied medicine.

So instead, last Friday night while you were, undoubtably, doing something fun, I was at home shaving the dog's leg. Amazingly, he allowed this. I had his leg hanging in the air like a chicken bone while trying to get all four million hairs off. Every few seconds I would croon, "Who's a good boy?" and his tail would do a half-thump. I have to give him tremendous props for being such a good sport.

I then applied peroxide and soaked his wrapped leg in tea bags for five minutes. Do you have any idea how long five minutes lasts? The tea bags (with their tannic acid) don't really seem to be doing enough, so we've graduated to hydrocortisone.

All the while the real fun is in the cone. Immediately after I put it on him, his tail curled completely underneath his body and his face hung to the floor. I've never seen a dog look so humanly depressed. But the awkward thing is trying not to laugh as he bumps into everything in his path. That would just be rude. But yet, it's like having your drunk Uncle Larry follow you all over the house. Every few minutes you hear a thud behind you and then you watch as he tries to extricate himself from whatever has befallen him. He no longer attempts to make it into the bathroom with me (not a bad circumstance) and I've seen him get stuck only to have to put it into reverse.

It is, however, less funny when he runs into the back of your legs with his cone. Or if your Mouse's height, the back of your head.

Going downstairs is a breeze. Coming up is altogether different. Every step he gets the cone stuck on the step above him. The first few times I had to help him up every step as he looked at me with a, "wouldn't it just be easier on us both to take off the torture device?" But as with everything, it's a learning curve and he can now make it unassisted with only a few bumps along the way.

So I try very hard to not laugh, smirk, or even benignly smile in his presence. But what I do in tight spaces he no longer fits into... well, that's my business.