April, May, Tulips, and Writing

I hope you all has a wonderful Easter! We did; my husband's family came out for the weekend, and we thoroughly enjoyed spending time together, filling and hiding plastic eggs for the kids to hunt on Sunday after church, and eating all the food I could keep coming out of my kitchen. We were a surprisingly hungry bunch this weekend!

As much as I loved having family out, and visiting them in our turn, I must confess to a sneaking sense of relief and freedom as we enter the month of April. Why? Because we have NOTHING planned. No trips, no people coming out to see us, nothing. Just living.

Now, I have learned in the last almost-decade of my married life that this is usually when life decides to laugh heartily at our expense and whack us on the nose with a broomstick. So I'm fully expecting Things to Happen. Even so, I'm reveling in the illusion of freedom right now.

We can finally start following our schedule! I can finish sewing the kids' spring clothes! I can get more writing done! We'll be able to do more than two days of school in a week! I can keep practicing driving so as to be more comfortable behind the wheel by the time we move! Carl and I can work together on the weekends to sort, organize, and pack boxes so that I don't get completely overwhelmed by it all the week before we move!

(I am so laughing at myself even as I type this. This is NOT going to happen.)

Also of excitement to me are two things happening in May (in the merry, merry month of May ...). One: my mother is getting her Master's! We're going up north for her graduation ceremony, and THEN we're going just a little further north to go to the Tulip Festival in Ottawa, Canada.

This was an excursion we made most years when I was a kid, and Carl and I have wanted to go up every year since we were dating, and never made it. This year I said since we were already going to be so close (my parents live just south of the US-Canada border) at the right time of year, we WERE going to go. And so we are making sure our passports are up to date and GOING. I can't wait. The girls are going to be blown away by so many tulips in one place, and downtown Ottawa is always worth a visit even without the flowers. Hurrah!

The second thing will actually happen before the first (confused yet?). For Mother's Day weekend, happening before my mom's graduation, Carl is going to take the kids to visit his mom. Where will I be during this? I'm SO glad you asked. I will be having a couple days entirely to myself. Not Here. Not at home, surrounded by all the Things I need to do every day, mocking me whenever I take the time to write. Not at his mother's, where I still have to be mommy and wife (and daughter-in-law) even though we aren't home. They are going to drop me off somewhere between our house and his mother's, and I will have a real-live solo writing retreat. It's my (belated)birthday present/(current)Mother's Day present/(future)keeping everything functioning while Carl's in seminary present.

So, any recommendations for a good place to stay in the Berkshires or southern Vermont for a solo writing retreat with no car?

And how is April looking for you?

Ever been to the Tulip Festival in Ottawa?

Did you have a nice Easter?

(A picture from last spring, taken at a park here in our city. Now imagine that, plus thousands more. THAT'S what it will be like in Ottawa.)

Moving Forward

Listening to Neverwhere on BBC Radio 4. Tying a quilt. Taking quick breaks for Twitter and blog posts. Writing a drabble for a Prydain challenge on ff.net.

That's my Sunday night. How's yours?

This past week was a rough one. Lot of emotions stirred up by events happening in the world. You know how that goes? Most of the time, you're aware of tragedies and injustices, and you feel sorrow, but it doesn't affect you that much - it can't, because you still have to live and work and love, and if you collapse under every weight, you simply can't function. But then ... then some days, it just all piles up, and suddenly it's too much, and you just have to stop and weep for a little while, before you can pick yourself up and keep fighting the good fight.

This past week was a "stop and weep" week for me. But now I'm back on my feet, back to being able to enjoy simple pleasures, to delight in my family and the gifts God has given me, back to moving forward and shining light in a darkened world.

(And yes, I am aware that something as dark as Neverwhere is an odd listening choice when one is cheering up, but oh my, it is fascinating. The brilliance alone makes it a worthwhile listen.)

In happier news, I have been doing better at sticking with a schedule and getting things accomplished this past week! Slow and steady does it, not freaking out if I slip off schedule, and not caring if it's more boring to follow a schedule than to go about life at my own whimsy.

Also, I made a raspberry cheesecake. YUM.

So, here's to a better week this week than last. Here's to carrying the light through the darkness no matter what.

Disorganized

I am the least organized person I know.

I like things to be neat and organized and tidy and simple, but when I try to make them that way myself ... chaos ensues.

(Curiously enough, when I was department manager at the hardware store, I did NOT have that problem. I ran one dept and assisted with two others, and kept all of them in STUNNINGLY organized condition, better than almost any of the others in the entire store. Which is odd. And the only time/place in my life where that has happened.)

Yesterday was my birthday, and my husband cleaned the kitchen for me after dinner. Except he didn't just clean, he tidied and organized and threw things away and rearranged other things and picked up items that had been on the counters for so long I'd stopped even seeing them, and at the end of the night, I stood there thinking, "huh. I could have done any of this at any time, but it never even occurred to me. Why not?"

Part of my problem is that I'm scatter-brained. Just ask anyone who knows me. My parents used to joke that they always knew how I'd spent my day by following the trail of shoes, books, and teacups through the house. I just never even noticed I was leaving them behind! It's even worse when I'm cleaning - I hop from one thing to another to another without ever finishing any task, ending the day by feeling exhausted and accomplishing nothing. I am really bad at time-management - I have a beautifully written schedule pinned on my fridge, and I never, ever manage to follow it. (In my defense, we haven't had one week since October where all four of us have been healthy. It's been a sick, sick winter, which makes it nearly impossible to stick to any kind of a schedule.) I always have marvelous, and even reasonable goals, and then I get derailed almost immediately.

Part of the problem is that there's just SO MUCH that I want/need to be doing. Keep the house clean and running smoothly. Raise the kids. Teach the kids. Write. Self-publish. Sew. Cook all the meals (from scratch). Skate. Learn to draw so I can teach the kids. Study. Along with raising and teaching the kids, train them to become independent adults. LAUNDRY. And oh yeah, have a relationship with my husband and try to make time for friends as well. Not to mention make sure I get that bit of alone time each week so necessary for my introverted soul.

I know a lot of people manage to juggle all those things effortlessly. I'm still figuring it out, and dropping almost ALL the balls constantly in the process. I think I spend more time picking the balls off the ground than I do tossing them through the air!

Add to all that the very deep desire to NOT live a mundane life, to do more than just muddle along. One of my deepest fears is that when I die, what's going on my tombstone is "Well, at least she tried." This life is so short, so precious, I don't want to spend it flustered and frustrated and frittering it away! I want to really live, to taste every moment. No, I'm not buying into the lie that says "you have to enjoy every minute of while your kids are small/while you are young/while whatever it is the speaker currently wants you to feel guilty about not savoring." I've fallen down that pit before, and I won't go back.

But neither do I want to, as I mentioned before, spend my life just muddling along, half-heartedly attempting many things without really enjoying or living anything.

So, any advice for this scatter-brained, introverted, disorganized, mummy-wife-and-mother-and-writer on how to stop wasting my time, and start making the most of my days?

Have at it in the comments!

Year's End

I always enjoy reading year's-end posts from others. So I decided to put one together on the chance that others enjoy reading them, too! Without further ado, here are some of my favorite posts from this blog in 2012.

This post on rituals, from February, is still one of my favorites from the year. I like its quiet thoughtfulness.

My April post on destiny still resonates with me. I need the reminder, still, to not get bogged down in fatalistic negativity.

I wrote a tribute to Lloyd Alexander in May. It's mostly quotes from his writings, so you know it's good.

This post on why I write, done in July, is honestly probably one of my favorite things that I've ever written. Honest truth, and a reminder to myself to keep aiming high. The comments still uplift me every time I re-read them, too.

I had fun with using scrambled eggs as a metaphor for writing styles in August. Includes some highly amusing pictures of bread loaves that didn't work.

This post on being French, from September, remains one of my most popular EVER.

I wrote a tribute to my grandmother on the one-year anniversary of her death in October. My hope is that it gives comfort to others who have lost beloveds to Alzheimer's or other forms of dementia.

In December, life got heavy. So I wrote about choosing joy, light, and love.

2012 was a good year for this family. It was a year of rest and healing (emotional and spiritual), a year of preparing for some big changes coming up in 2013. Carl has been accepted to his grad school of choice, which means that we will be moving sometime in the next six months, and starting a new adventure - taking the first steps on a new path that is still mostly in shadow. Exciting and nerve-wracking all at once.

As for me, I turned thirty, started taking ice dance lessons after twelve years off the ice, began homeschooling the kids, and published my first stories.

It was a good year.

2013 promises to be even better.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.  -J.R.R. Tolkien

Cookies! (And Other Baking)

I get a little more elaborate with Christmas cookies every year. For the first few years of our marriage, I would only make a few, because Carl doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, and if I made a bunch, I would eat them all (or send them into Carl's office). Plus, back then I was still nervous about baking anything besides biscuits or bread (weird, right? Cookies scared me, but bread was so easy).

I eventually started doing a few more batches to take with us when we would visit family, and then when we had kids I started doing a few more, and then last year I went NUTS. I made so, so many cookies, muffins, and sweetbreads. By the time I was done, I didn't want to see my kitchen for a month.

I want to cut back this year, but argh, how to choose which ones to keep and what to cut from the list?

Grandma's honey cookies for frosting are on there every year, that's a given. Molasses cookies are also a yearly tradition, especially if I manage to set some aside to give to my dad (he LOVES them). The girls and I love peanut butter blossoms, but Carl hates peanut butter with a passion, so those are iffy. The chocolate cappuccino crinkles, though? He would cry if I didn't make those.

My big thing this year is trying to incorporate something in my baking from each of our ethnic heritages. Cardamom braided bread (Sweden) is head of the list. I've been making that for several years now, even before I found out it was a Christmas tradition in Carl's family growing up! I made Russian tea cakes last year and everyone loved them, so that takes care of his Lithuanian side.

We all enjoy shortbread, which makes our English heritage easy to cover. I might cheat a little and make maple shortbread this year, though. Mmm ...

That left French (mais oui!) and Dutch. One of my friends suggested a buche de Noel, which I promptly googled and decided was perfect (partially because the other option was macarons, which TERRIFY me), and I wavered between boterkoek (Dutch butter cake) and kerstkransjes (Christmas cookie wreaths) for ages before I finally decided to try the kerstkransjes. I'm so excited to start building some ethnic-food-related traditions with the wee ones!

Come to think of it, I don't seem to have simplified my baking list at all. Oh well. Christmas comes but once a year!

Last year's cookie decorating fest - I think they were all sneaking bites of dough in this shot.

The proud cookie makers and the finished product!

Grandma

Breaking my post-once-a-week pattern for a particular reason ...

One year ago today, my grandmother ended her battle with Alzheimer's after twelve years. She had spent almost the entire previous week in the hospital with pneumonia, and all her family was told form the beginning that this was it; she wasn't going to be leaving. After many days spent by her bedside, in laughter and tears, she died surrounded by her children and grandchildren, gone but never forgotten, though her own memory went so many years ago.

I've been thinking this week about Grandma's legacy, about how her love, her faith, her hope, and her humor have passed down now to three generations, with who knows how many more to come. Whenever I am tempted to think that my sphere of influence is too small to make a difference, that my presence in this world doesn't really matter, I remember this wonderful women who lived in a tiny corner of the world, raising her children and planting her gardens, and whose life touched so many and continues to do so even now. No person is too small or too insignificant to make a difference. We never know how far the ripples of our life may travel.

I'm including here in this post the tribute I wrote to Grandma last year, the day after her death. And at some point today, I will sit down with my girls, show them some pictures on their uncle's Facebook wall of their grandmother, and tell them some of the stories I remember best.

She is gone, but her love and her humor live on.

She went out accompanied by a blaze of northern lights, some of the most brilliant seen around here in ages. Heaven welcoming a gallant soul home with fanfare.

Even after her breathing had slowed drastically, her heart remained strong until the end. We always knew her heart was bigger and stronger than most.

Her humor was one of the last things to go when the Alzheimer's took over. Even when she was in the nursing home and couldn't even recognize Grandpa, she would try to tease the nurses and aids. They all loved her.

They were married for sixty years. Two days before she finally died, I sat and watched him hold her hand as he told us the only reason he underwent chemo and fought so hard for life through the blood clots last year was so that he could take care of her, make sure her ending was peaceful and dignified, so that he could take care of her to the end. None of his kids could speak at that point, so I managed to choke out that he had done a wonderful job of it. They were an example to us all.

Of eight kids, six managed to make it home to say goodbye, only the one in Australia and the one in Arizona not able to get back. Fully half of the grandkids were able to come. No one fought, no one argued, no one tried to make things difficult for anyone else. Everyone acted as selflessly as human beings can act. Another testimony to the love and respect everyone had for her.

The hospital nurses teared up when their weekend shift ended, knowing they wouldn't see her again alive.

There was as much laughter as tears around her bedside, as stories were shared and memories were dredged up and old jokes revived. Her fifteen-year-old grandson played his guitar, everyone sang, and her last days were filled with the music and laughter she loved so well.

She has been gone for a long time. Twelve years ago was when she was finally diagnosed with Alzheimer's, at that point too far advanced to do anything but watch and pray as it slowly disintegrated the woman we all knew. The pneumonia that took her tonight was a release from that living death (twelve years is phenomenally long for Alzheimer's sufferers - most don't live more than five years), and our tears were as much joy for her as sorrow.

She is whole again now. She is free. She is rejoicing and laughing with her Lord.

It hurts, still, but this is a clean hurt, one that will heal. The pain of the Alzheimer's never went away; it would lie dormant for a time, but it was always there lurking in the background. This - already there is a peace growing from the sorrow.

We will miss her. We have missed her for years. But her legacy - the love, the laughter, the strength and faith and joy - she passed that on, not only to her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, but to all who knew her. I am proud to call myself her granddaughter, and you can be sure my girls will grow up knowing about what an amazing woman their great-grandmother was.

Rest in Peace? Maybe. Personally, I suspect she is singing and dancing right now.

And laughing.

Grandma as a girl                                                                        Senior portrait

Grandma and Grandpa's wedding day

Three

As I sat at the table with Grace this morning, reminding her every 30 seconds to take another bite, helping her with her water, getting her down to go potty, and then getting her back in the chair, reminding her (again) to eat instead of play with her fingers, breaking up a fight between the sisters, encouraging her to wait until AFTER breakfast to sing, I had an epiphany.

I understand now why it is impossible for me to keep to any kind of schedule.

I have a three-year-old.

'Nuff said.

What I get when I ask said three-year-old to smile. Goofball!

Totally better than the best schedule, though. Don't you agree?

I'm getting better these days about accepting that this is my season for intensive parenting, which means even school has to take second place sometimes, and writing a distant third. Sometimes I still want to rail against it (because hey, I want to have IT ALL, RIGHT NOW), but slowly, I'm coming to a point where I can not just be okay with it, but actually happy about it. Amazing!

I am French

Disclaimer: This post has nothing to do with writing. It just seemed like an interesting topic.

When people ask me what my family heritage is, I don't even hesitate.

"French," I reply promptly.

In truth, French is a tiny part of my heritage. I am 1/8 French, to be precise. My father's father's mother was a Frenchwoman. The rest of the blood on my dad's side is a mix of English, Dutch, and Irish, with a drop or two of Welsh.

On my mom's side, we're English and Scottish (and pure New Englander). Nothing else.

So really, I'm more English than anything else. English and Celtic, maybe.

But still: "French," I say without even thinking about it.

And I sometimes wonder why that is? Is it because Great-Grandma Bates was such a strong personality? I was very young when she died, but even I have a few distinct memories of her, and I've heard stories about her all my life from my dad and his siblings (and their cousins). I'm much more of an Anglophile than a Francophile, yet I rarely talk or even think about my English blood.

Is it because the personality traits I value the most in myself are ones commonly associated with French people? Passion, joie de vivre, honor, clear-headedness in a crisis. Or that some of the traits I most desire for myself (and are forever out of reach) are also associated with the French? Sophistication, elegance, poise, reserve, tact.

You can see, in my grandfather's generation, the humor of my English great-grandfather and the charm of my great-grandmother mixed together almost irresistibly (my dad and I took Grandpa and one of his brothers out for lunch one day, a few years ago, and both Grandpa and Uncle Fred got free pie, just because the waitresses were so delighted by them). In my dad's generation, the charm has been diluted just a tad (but not much, as anyone who knows my dad and his siblings would agree) and the humor kicked up a notch due to my grandmother's genes (even after the Alzheimer's took everything else away from Grandma, she maintained her sense of humor until there was simply nothing left of her at all).

Me, I'm an odd blend of Scottish practicality, English humor, Celtic passion, Dutch shrewdness, and French joy (and a generous handful of less pleasant traits, too - but I'll leave those for you to figure out) (no giving anyone clues, Carl). And maybe that's what it boils down to - of everything I am and want to be, joyful is the most important to me. When I die, I want "extravagantly joyful" written on my tombstone (actually, that's a lie - I don't want a tombstone at all - but you get the idea). To live fully and joyously, to face bravely whatever lies ahead and navigate whatever treacherous waters there may be with a triumphant laugh, to spend my days with a song on my lips and a smile in my heart, and I'm going to stop there before this devolves further into cheesy pop song territory.

Despite my complete and utter lack of glamor, at my core, I feel French. That 1/8 burns stronger in my veins then all the rest of it. And if the French aren't really like that after all?

Experimenting with some french couture a few years ago. Always fun!

Oh well. I'm a writer. Creating worlds and imaginary lands and then dwelling therein is what we do.

What is your family heritage, and do you feel yourself drawn more strongly to one part over another?

Readers

I love peeking around the corner of the living room and seeing this.

What better way to spend a summer afternoon?

Take a Hike!

We went on a family hike this past weekend - one of our favorite activities, but one that, between swelteringly hot weather and long hours at Carl's job, we haven't been able to indulge in at all this summer. It was the perfect day for it - sunny and warm, but the air was crisp enough that we wanted sweatshirts at first. 

Carl showing the girls how to read the map and follow the trail markers

Can you spot the toad?

Two happy hikers!

I saw this stump and thought: "It looks like the gaping jaws of some giant mythological beast!" Then I thought: "I'm not even going to mention that to my family; they'll think I'm crazy." THEN I thought: "Well, I'll at least take a picture of it for my blog; my readers get my kind of craziness."

Sisters!

Feeling like a big shot because she hiked the entire thing (this was her first major hike having outgrown her backpack carrier)

I LOVE that Joy is photo-bombing this shot of Grace and Carl

Tired little chickie, snuggling with Dad

"Hey, maybe we'll end up in Narnia if we walk through this arch!" (We didn't)

Not only was it an awesome day just as a family, I felt creativity bubbling up in me like crazy. Nothing specific, no great story plots or characters, just general creativeness. It was so, so needed. Even though we all came home exhausted and sore (my legs are still aching today - scrambling up and down steep, rocky mountains while helping a small child requires some serious muscle work), we were laughing and chattering and just absolutely refreshed.

Where do you go to get revitalized?

Farewell, Olympics

The Olympics are over (until 2014 - SOCHI!!! Winter Olympics and Russia - two of my great loves), and I'm torn between sadness and mild relief that life can return to normal and I don't have to watch beach volleyball again AT ALL until Rio.

The littles are asking for rhythmic gymnastics lessons; Joy has discovered that she loves tennis; Grace keeps practicing diving off the couch (I would feel so much better about this if she would just put a pillow down first); I want to start practicing for single sculls.

Carl is almost done with Aramaic and ready to start Syriac, then Latin.

I leave it to you to determine which of us has proper priorities.

I learned a few things during the Olympics.

Number One: I am not, nor will I ever be, an athlete. Much as I respect and admire them, my dedication and passion is for writing, not sport. Also, I am incurably clumsy, which is not good in an athlete (well, not for anyone, really, but especially an athlete).

Number Two: For me, beach volleyball gets tremendously boring after half of a game. Water polo is ok for one full game. Court volleyball means I turn the television off immediately. Guess what sports NBC inevitably showed during the day, while I was freest to watch?

Number Three: I really don't get much pop music (this was cemented during the closing ceremony, where my favorite performers were STOMP).

Number Four: I am always going to get annoyed when people are disdainful about the Olympics. THEY ARE MORE THAN SPORT END OF STORY.

Number Five: I will cry over amazing against-the-odds stories. Also whenever the camera shows Michael Phelps and his family.

Number Six: Mr Bean is funny, but Kenneth Branagh is MAGIC.

Number Seven: I must go to England sometime. I get homesick whenever I see pictures of it - truly homesick - and I've never been there. It is, quite simply, in my blood.

Any tidbits of wonder for you during this Olympics?

Lists, Olympic Edition

IS there anything else happening in the world aside from the Olympics?

I thought not.

This is just a small smattering of the Olympic stories I've enjoyed this week. I'm still too giddy about Michael Phelps to spoil it with journalism, so no stories on him.

I cried all over the place at the story of the Nigerian rower. Athlete, crowd, announcer - all showing true Olympic spirit. WAHHHH!

I cheered and whooped all over the house when I saw the British rowers had won gold. Now Penzance can be known for more than just its Pirates!

I howled with laughter over Conan Doyle's prose regarding this marathoner (back in 1908). Florid, much? Holmes would disapprove - even Dr Watson would blush.

The badminton scandal is dreadful. NOT the Olympic spirit. But a small part of me is relieved that figure skating isn't the ONLY Olympic sport riddled with scandal. Now if we could just convince the badminton players to wear sequins ...

The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are adorable. Is that respectful? It doesn't seem respectful to refer to the future king of England as adorable. But really, they ARE (as is Harry).

Everyone has heard about or seen the US swim team's version of Call Me Maybe. That was charming, sure. This, however, has got even those athletes beat. Look out, Sochi!



Happy Weekend, everyone!

Lists, Part the I'm Too Lazy to Check

OLYMPICS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem. Had to get that out of the way first. I am so thrilled for the Olympics. I was going to make my list this week all links to articles on the Olympics, but a few other things caught my eye as well, so it ended being just as eclectic a mix as usual.

To start off, though, here's a guide to some Olympians to keep an eye on, via the lovely people at Forever YA

Speaking of people to watch, have you heard about the woman who is eight months pregnant and competing? At eight months, all I was doing was waddling and moaning. Impressive, madam!

This is cool. That's all.

I was a flagbearer for part of the Olympic Torch relay in 2002. It was the most amazing experience - I can just imagine the thrill in London for this final stretch.

Speaking of cool ... I want a garden shed just so I can paint it like this one. Except I want a K-9 in front of it instead of a Dalek.

Pixar, storytelling, and Legos. What's not to love?

This publishing road map from YA Highway is AWESOME.

Part of me wants to be snarky about JK Rowling's planned tree houses for her kids and say "why not build a public playground this awesome?" but really, she's earned it, and I know when I was a kid, I would have adored a playhouse like this, so all in all, I think it's great.

This post from Shannon Hale's tumblr made me want to weep. Especially the last line. No kid should be made to feel like an outcast based on the books he OR she reads.

This also made me weep (for real), but for an entirely different reason. Joanna writes with such beauty and truth, and her words and photographs always pierce my heart. She's also one of my very dearest friends.

And finally, to end on a high (or possibly low) note, I give you three of USA's future Olympians. Our country rests in excellent hands, my friends:

Finished! (Well, Sorta)

Monday evening right before dinner, I typed the last words to my final short story planned for this summer. I still have plenty (PLENTY) of editing to do on all five stories and the novella, but the actual creating part is done.

So weird this morning not to open up a document on my computer as soon as I got up.

I'm not going to write anything (except blog posts and Twitter/FB updates, naturally) for the rest of this week. Give it all a chance to simmer. Clean my poor neglected house. Make bread. Finish organizing the school supplies for this fall.

I'm making a good start on cleaning up other projects already - I have the main body of Grace's sunshine quilt all sewn and almost all the borders on. After that, it's a simple matter of assembling, tying, and binding (which will still take a long time, but not as long as the putting together of the quilt top itself).

I was nervous about setting myself such a definite goal and project for this summer - a collection of short stories and/or a novella to indie publish this fall. And it's definitely stretched me, and I definitely will never again set myself such a tight time frame for a relatively major project while my kids are still little, but it's also been great. I've proven to myself that I CAN do this, I can accomplish something when I set my mind to it, I don't always have to be the person who loses heart partway through.

Granted, there's still a great deal to do. I have a copy-editor, but I still need to figure out cover design and formatting, along with the aforementioned edits.

But the end is in sight. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have confidence that I'm going to get there, and confidence is half the battle, right?

The other tremendously important thing I've learned this summer is that, while making writing my career is so vital to me, it's not worth family. Honestly, that's said so often that it's completely cliche, but I've never been entirely certain of its veracity before. Not until I actually had to make the choice every day: kids/husband or writing? The times I chose the family I do not regret at all, and the times I chose writing ... well, sometimes taking a break from my family WAS needful for my sanity (hey, just trying to be completely transparent here), but mostly, I have learned that spending time with my family over my writing will always be the choice that leaves me the most satisfied. And it was good to have the opportunity to learn that for myself, instead of wistfully looking at my piles of unfinished writing projects and suspecting that all those writers that talk about family over writing are just blowing hot air.

My next writing project, after I've published these stories, will be to polish up Magic & Mayhem (I have GOT to think of a better title) over the fall and winter, with the loosely-held goal of indie publishing that in Spring 2013. And maybe a few other sneaky side projects along the way - I've discovered that short stories can be rather fun.

I'm sure I'll have plenty other thoughts throughout the rest of the summer on what I've learned from this particular writing project, so stay tuned.

If I'm very diligent, I'll even be able to post pictures of the sunshine quilt before fall, too.

We'll see!

Joy's quilt - we're using the same nine-patch pattern for Grace's, but with yellows instead of pinks. They are going to look SO ADORABLE side-by-side in the littles' room once it's all finished!

Lists, Part the Fifth

Holy month of no rain, Batman! Though we're way better off here than in many parts of the country (I get more excited when I hear about rain predicted for the midwest and west than I even do for it here), we're still definitely ready to see a break in the dry spell. The farmers are in agony.

When you all need a break from the rain dances you'll be doing in your back yards, I've found some fun links for you to peruse. Just because I care!

1. This post is from March, but the message is timeless. Love it.
2. I had some serious self-confidence issues in my life as a result of being told I was nothing special as a kid, but I agree that we've gone way overboard in the other direction at this point in time, and this article was a great take on it, I thought.
3. I found this quote on an old blog post from MY old personal blog (don't bother reading most of the other posts; they're very navel-gazing), and was reminded that I still love it. Truth and wisdom, right there!
4. This book review made me want to re-read Fly by Night. A book about the power of words - the sort of thing I dream of someday writing when my craft is more honed than it is right now!
5. When hunting for fresh bedtime reading for my littles, I came across this list. Very helpful.
6. This was just about the most exciting thing I've seen in ages. Back to Star Wars basics? YES PLEASE. And then this article, too, which gives a bit more insight into Leia's role? YESYESYESYES. All my Star Wars nerdiness rising back to the surface.

It is breaking my heart not to be at Comic-Con this weekend (maybe next year!!!) (Yeah right), but I'm trying to distract myself by working hard on short story edits, more short story outlines (my goal is to be able to publish five in a collection, and one more as a bonus companion to my seperately-published novella), working on Grace's quilt, and trying not to get overheated outside while my kids play in the kiddie pool. Oh yes, and editing the photos from my MIL's wedding, because they're not going to get any less intimidating over time.

I hope your weekend is full of bliss!

Lists, Part the Fourth

1. At some point in watching the Olympic Trials last week, I realized/remembered that neither Jonny Moseley nor Scott Hamilton would be doing commentating for the Summer Olympics (boo!). So I Tweeted about it. And Jonny Tweeted back (apparently we both think Scott is awesome). So I Tweeted him again. And he Tweeted back again. Which pretty much made my whole week.
2. It apparently doesn't take much to make me happy.
3. I read this article on spoiled children in between batches of biscuits for my mother-in-law's wedding, and it gave me a lot of food for thought.
4. Did I mention that I made thirteen batches of biscuits for my MIL's wedding? At between 12-13 biscuits per batch, that's ... a lot of biscuits. Along with farm-fresh berries, they made excellent strawberry shortcake.
5. Also read this article on indie publishing and thought it was great.
6. As I am working on writing short stories in anticipation of indie publishing them, this post on pricing was fantastic. As an entrepreneur, this makes total sense to me (and in fact echoes what I am always telling my sister as regards her metal-smithing business).
7. In between everything else this week, I made Joy a sundress, pattern from this book. It only took me four days, which would translate to about four hours for the normal seamstress (seamster? tailor? individual who sews regardless of gender?). I'm slow. But I love this book. This is the fourth dress I've made for my littles from it, and all of them have been fantastic. Plus it's helping me work through my overflowing stash of fabric!
8. Speaking of short stories, I have three shorts and one novella done, and am actively seeking critique partners. One is straight-up historical, one is historical fantasy, one is a contemporary spy story, and the novella is a light-hearted contemporary spy story as well (I have visions of eventually putting together a collection of spy/detective stories featuring female leads), if anyone is interested. I would also LOVE to read your story, if you have something that needs critiquing!
9. I made this pie for the Fourth. I don't think I let it chill enough, because it turned into more of pie soup, but it was still AMAZINGLY good. Joy informed me that she likes it more than strawberry-rhubarb crunch. Shocking!
10. I am getting my hair cut, about two months overdue, on Saturday. Can't wait to take care of this shaggy mop. Back to this look for me!

Have a wonderful weekend, my friends!

Trikes

First time riding her trike outside the driveway

Joy informed me she was practicing for the Ironman. I did not question her dedication.

Near collision, averted by Joy's newly-acquired steering skills!

Racing to the finish

We did it!

Two happy girls, and not pictured, two happy parents.

We had a pretty darn good Fourth. How was yours?

Reader

A possible near-future conversation between Joy and a librarian or teacher.


Librarian or Teacher, looking at Joy's armful of books teetering nearly above her head: My, that's a lot of books! Are you going to read all of them?

Joy: Yes, all by myself.

L or T: Really? How old are you?

Joy: I will be five in November.

L or T: And you can already read all those books by yourself? How did you learn to read so young?

Joy: I got bored.

End scene.

This kid, she amazes me. I really did start to teach her to read simply because she was bored. Bored to the point where she was getting into trouble out of frustration. She struggled a bit at first because it didn't click immediately (and because I was an idiot and thought I could teach her with easy readers and flash cards - I'm sure that's all some people need, but I am a lousy teacher and needed a curriculum), but we persevered (all of us - Joy and I did the official school books, but Carl would sit down and patiently work with her through regular books, even letting her read the bedtime stories sometimes), and then, ever so slowly, it started to come together. She would recognize one word when she saw it, then two. Then five. Then she could put together sentences. Then she started figuring out the whole "sound it out" business.

Yesterday afternoon, I walked through the living room and paused. Joy was curled up on the couch with "Mr. Putter and Tabby Pour the Tea," which we had borrowed from the library last week and hadn't had a chance to read together yet, and she was reading it. Out loud. By herself. Sounding out the words she didn't know. Getting some of them wrong, but more of them right. Going back to re-read a sentence that she hadn't added the proper emphasis to before. Immersed in her own world.

I very nearly burst into tears.

She finished that and picked up "Sam and the Firefly," another library book, and read through that. Then she read through "Go Dog. Go!" She had to take a bathroom break partway through that one, and I sat in Carl's study and listened as she read all the books we keep in there for the littles to look at while they use the potty (leftover habit from the days they were potty-training).

I quite honestly had a lump in my throat the rest of the evening. Reading has shaped my life, my very nature, for as long as I can remember. It has been one of the deepest desires of my heart that my children share the same passion and love for the written word as I have. Seeing this love take root in Joy is one of the most rewarding moments in parenthood I've had thus far.

She's reading. My kid is reading.

It still blows my mind.

Now I just have to keep from going absolutely crazy on Amazon and buying every easy reader I can find. I just want to shower her with ALL THE BOOKS IN THE WORLD, but that's what libraries are for, and I don't want to deprive her of one of my other deep-set joys, which is finding those amazing books at the library, and the thrill of bringing them home to read.

Taken first thing this morning after she came downstairs. Please ignore the mound of clean laundry next to her. It was a long weekend.

I have a reader. A real live reader. Somebody pinch me!

By the way, the scene up top would never really happen. Joy hates talking to strange adults. I can't really blame her; I'm not crazy about it either.

Lists, Part the Third

Thoughts from this week:

1. Math really is useful for real life, especially when, say, one is calculating how much flour, baking powder, salt, shortening, and milk one needs to bake a dozen batches of biscuits for strawberry shortcake for one's mother-in-law's wedding reception. Sorry I accused you of lying to me about that back when I was a kid, Mom.
2. (Incidentally, it was cooking and baking that taught me how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide fractions. They never made sense to me on paper, but when I was doubling or halving a recipe, it started to click. Thanks, Mom!)
3. Reading through the Little House series and the Harry Potter series at the same time will make for some weird dreams.
4. Trying to write short story outlines will cause a great abundance of Doing Other Things, such as reading the aforementioned books, painting with kids, sewing bags for toys, making peach lavender ice cream, and even occasionally doing your husband's chores. Remarkable.
5. If you want to see your almost-five-year-old light up, buy this book and tell her it's hers (even adding that she has to share it with her sister won't diminish her joy).
6. When planning a Saturday hike, make sure there is NO RAIN AT ALL forecasted not just for where your house is, but for where you're planning to hike. Even if it's only twenty minutes away.
7. In a more serious vein, if you've found the news coming out of Colorado as horrifying as I have, you might find this site helpful - a list of ways and places to help.

A rather bland-ish list this week, but I've no time for more - I'm making syrup for lavender lemonade for the wedding, packing, frantically double-checking that I have everything I need for my camera (they've asked me to do the photos, and even though it's an extremely casual wedding - more of a backyard picnic than anything else - I'm still immensely nervous. I am a very rank amateur photographer!), making sure everything in the house is fit to be left, and still helping Grace dress and undress her baby doll a dozen times a day. Whew!

Have a wonderful weekend, friends! (And to all my Canadian friends out there - Happy Canada Day on Sunday! I will try to wear red in honor of you!)

Lists, Part the Second

Thoughts from this week:

1. Along with a suitcase for the TARDIS, one should also always carry a frying pan with one on any journeys, in case one needs to clunk Jenny Green-Teeth or fight the Queen of the Elves.
2. Summer tastes like sun-warmed strawberries; it smells like sun-warmed raspberries.
3. Any time you find a Freddy the Pig book in a bookstore, you must buy it at once. No hesitations allowed.
4. $10. kiddie pools are one of the greatest things ever invented. Along with popsicles.
5. Sometimes, writing with pen and paper is far more satisfying than typing on a computer.
6. Homeschooling kindergarteners is great - you can buy a coloring book and call it science AND art (seriously, Joy loves this sort of stuff, and doesn't even realize she's learning)!
7. Getting up early can be a pain, but watching the rising sun illuminate the tree leaves from underneath is one of those sights that more than makes up for it.

And your bonus for this weekend: my own recipe for strawberry rhubarb crunch, adapted from an old family recipe, probably originally my Great-Grandmother Whitmore's.

for the filling:

2 cups chopped rhubarb

2 cups chopped strawberries

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1 TBS flour

3/4 tsp cinnamon

Mix sugar, flour, cinnamon together in a large bowl; add fruit and toss until covered. Spread in greased 9x11 pan (or 8x8 if you want it thicker) and set aside.

for the topping:

3/4 cup flour

3/4 cup brown sugar

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/3 cup melted butter

nutmeg

Mix flour, sugar, baking powder, and baking soda together. Stir in melted butter. Sprinkle or pat over top of the fruit. Sprinkle a light dusting of nutmeg over top of the whole thing. Bake at 350º F for 40 minutes. Serve warm with whipped cream or ice cream.

picture by my sister, the fantastic Lis of Designs by Lis

Enjoy your weekend, friends!