Spring has sprung . . . again!

We have had some cold, wet weather this week, after temperatures in the 70s on Saturday.
T.S. Eliot begins his epic poem "The Waste Land" with this:

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

And Ernest Hemingway had this to say about fickle spring:

You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason.

And indeed, this is how I have felt some of these recent frosty days.
Especially since the boys and I have been sick so much lately.
But things are warming up again. Again, I have opened the windows and let the air revisit our house, closed off to the cold these past few days. And outside today, the sunshine reaching down to caress this part of the earth, my part, I was drunken with the smell of warmth.
We took advantage of the beautiful weather we had on Saturday and worked in the yard and garden most of the day.
We got some things planted in the ground -- snap peas, peas, spinach, carrots -- and I finished starting the indoor seeds. Some of them have sprouted already, and are growing and growing. It is fascinating to watch them grow. Sometimes, you look at them, and a few hours later, they have grown some more. It is amazing. The boys are having a great time seeing the progress and anticipating the day they will be ready to go into their neat rows in the dirt.

Joe built a raised box for the strawberries, which we will plant Friday or Saturday. We have 50 plants. Twenty-five Ozark beauties and 25 Robinsons.
We tilled up an additional garden area which will hold a variety of tomatoes and peppers and began clearing an area for the plants that need to go in mounds.
It is a lot of work, this gardening stuff. But it is so satisfying, such fulfilling work. At the end of the day, I feel good. Really, really good about the work I have accomplished in the garden.
Author Margaret Atwood said, "In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt." I could not agree more.
Here are some other things that have been happening.
Monday night, we had the pleasure of having some friends drop by and spend the evening with us.
At one point in the evening, we all migrated into the living room, and Daniel, who had excitedly been trying to tell us something for several minutes which none of us were understanding, was pointing out the window, saying "Sun-clouds! Sun-clouds!"
Sure enough, I looked out the window where he was pointing, and this is what he saw . . .
Sun-clouds.
How can you not love this . . . these glimpses into first encounters with words, watching these rituals of naming things with words he knows and seeing him want to learn, to know more. It amazes me. It has amazed me with each of my boys -- the way they would learn words, and say them; what they would call things, name things. How they would put their world together with words, and take it apart, and become communicators, following a great tradition of language.
And this is what happened when I asked him to smile for the camera. A ham, just like his brothers!
Last night we had some other friends over to discuss putting a chicken coop in, and getting some chickens. I am so excited about the prospect of fresh eggs and non-hormone injected meat. I think it will be a fun learning experience for the boys and a good family project and I am looking forward to the day that our chickens are a reality.
Tomorrow is Josiah's 7th birthday. I can't believe it. Time goes by so fast. It seems it is racing away from us, racing into tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
I remember the day Josiah was born like it was yesterday.
You can read about the story of his birth and see how we celebrated last year here.
Today, he has been watching . . .
that's right, The Karate Kid.
And right here, in this very room, he has become Daniel LaRusso.
Dream big, little man. Dream big.

A poem for today

How to Read a Poem: Beginner's Manual
by Pamela Spiro Wagner

First, forget everything you have learned,
that poetry is difficult,
that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,
with your high school equivalency diploma,
your steel-tipped boots,
or your white-collar misunderstandings.

Do not assume meanings hidden from you:
the best poems mean what they say and say it.

To read poetry requires only courage
enough to leap from the edge
and trust.

Treat a poem like dirt,
humus rich and heavy from the garden.
Later it will become the fat tomatoes
and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.

Poetry demands surrender,
language saying what is true,
doing holy things to the ordinary.

Read just one poem a day.
Someday a book of poems may open in your hands
like a daffodil offering its cup
to the sun.

When you can name five poets
without including Bob Dylan,
when you exceed your quota
and don't even notice,
close this manual.

How does your garden grow?

It was a chilly, misty day today, but we braved the drab elements and all returned to school.
It was good to be there. Sometimes, when I am away for a time, I do not realize how much I miss it.
Usually, that is because I am caught up with other occupations, like doing the laundry and cleaning the floors and tending to feverish children.
But when I get back, and I see the smiling faces of the children and hear their laughter in the halls and am rushed upon with hugs by a student who missed me in my absence, I remember that it is a wonderful place to be indeed.
Family dinner was at our house this evening, but non of the adults were really feeling up to speed. Mom, Gramp and Joe are all fighting off sickness, and Patti stayed home for the same reason, and the rest of us are just recovering from bouts with colds.
Nevertheless, with tissues in hand, and in nasally voices, we conversed and laughed and talked about politics and God and everything in-between.
Gramp went to visit the doctor this morning, and had good reports as to his overall health. Now, if we can just keep him from catching cold!
Gramp had with him, when he arrived this evening, the second bulk of our seed order. He said we are waiting on two more see packages, but for the life of me, I cannot think of what we are missing.
We received two tophat bluberry bushes, 50 strawberry plants, seeds for the lettuce, carrots, peas, green beans, bell peppers, rainbow heirloom tomatos, summer squash medely, fanfare and straight 8 cucumbers, and a number of our herbs.
After dinner, the boys helped me plant the blueberry bushes in containers and start some of the seeds indoors in small peat pots.
"Planting is so much fun," Isaac mused as we sat on the newspaper covered floor, topsoil on our hands, filling the tiny pots with dirt and carefully placing seeds in each one.
"That it is, son." I answered.
I hope they find delight in this endeavour that lasts a life-time for them.
I hope there are many gardens in their futures.
And I hope, when they are old men, sighing over their tomatoes, contemplating curly cucumber tendrils with something like love in their rhumey eyes, breathing in deeply the green life the brown earth, inhaling the sun, standing in those quiet garden places with things growing up all around their seasoned feet . . . I hope they remember a day long, long ago, when they planted seeds with their mother on the kitchen floor of their childhood home, and that they smile.
On another note, Daniel discovered "preples" today. That's pretzles, to you and me.
Also, I was going over an old journal and came across this gem, "When Josiah sneezes, he says, 'Mom! I blessed!'" It made me laugh out loud. I could remember his little face, and his voice when he used to say that. And now, he will be seven years old exactly one week from today. Have I mentioned this yet?
I have lots of little notes like this all over the place about things the boys have said -- in journals, or written on scraps of paper stuck between the pages of books or stashed in drawers.
Perhaps I will try to collect them and compile a special post or a little booklet for each of them of isms -- Isaacisms, Josiahisms, Danielisms.
One more thing in a long list of things I desperately want to do.
But for now, I must concentrate on the garden.

A poem for today

Morning Solitude, by Piet Bekaert, 1939-2000

This poem was randomly selected by a poem-per-day site. I like it. I would add one thing to my list, though. Devotion to a God well-loved.

THE THINGS THAT CAUSE A QUIET LIFE
by Henry Howard

My friend, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain,
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;

The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule nor governance;
Without disease the healthy life;
The household of continuance;

The mean diet, no dainty fare;
True wisdom joined with simpleness;

The night discharged of all care,

Where wine the wit may not oppress;

The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Content thyself with thine estate,
Neither wish death, nor fear his might.

April 1st -- not just for fools!

This year's edition of April 1st is turning it's face toward the evening, and I will report that I have been pranked by none, nor have I pranked another! (Maybe this poetry month thing is going to my head).
I have witnessed a couple of April fools stunts, pulled by my own dear children .
*Gasp* No, not those sweet, sweet children, you say.
Oh yes, those very boys indeed.
They are too funny.
In one instance, Isaac called his doubles tennis partner this morning and told him, in a rather scratchy voice, "I won't be able to play today . . . .I'm not feeling well. . . (long pause) APRIL FOOLS!"
Isaac did indeed play, and on this day, he and Colton won a bronze medal at the school tennis tournament!!
Way to go Isaac.
Joe went and captured the day with some brilliant pics.
I was not able to go to the game this year. It is the first sporting event that I've missed. I did not want Daniel spending the day in the elements after so recently dealing with an ear infection. We stayed home.
Josiah was back at school and in action today.
Though I have not been feeling well I was so excited to finally have seeds, and I spent Daniel's nap-time yesterday starting some seeds indoors.
Look at how tiny these seeds are. They are so small right now, it's amazing to think that with a little time, and the right elements, they will turn into tall, strong plants that will bear fruit (in some cases, veggies). Kinda like us.
In this small greenhouse, I started yellow pear tomatoes, red pear tomatoes, mortgage lifter tomatoes, roma tomatoes, eggplant and hot pepper mixed seeds.
Before planting seeds:
And after planting seeds:
I need to get some seeds in the ground, peas and spinach and some herbs, but it is supposed to be rather rainy the next few days I hear, and I was cautioned about planting outdoors when it is too wet.
Maybe I will use my peat pots and start some of those seeds in them. We'll see.
I am awaiting two more shipments from the seed company, but I think I have enough to keep me busy, at least through this weekend.
It has been a long day, and I am listening to Daniel snore next to me. Other than that, and the sound of me clicking over the computer keys, the house is quiet. Soon, it will be a sleeping house. But before I sleep, I pray, Thank you, God, for growing things. For plants and boys and for the ability in my own heart for growth and change and fruit.

April showers bring . . . National Poetry Month!

It is indeed that time of year again.
Rejoice! Throw your hands in the air and do a little poetic dance! Tell you friends and family, and share a poem with them! Have a feast, or, at the very least, a poetry reading!
It's National Poetry Month.
This year's promo poster, designed by the Academy of American Poets, features T.S. Eliot's question from a portion of his "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—	40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare	45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

I love this poem!
This is one of my favorite verses:

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,	50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

Read the entire poem here.
Do I dare disturb the universe?
Do you?

Under the weather

I have been quite ill with a sinus infection, and have not had the inclination to write much these past few days. Not that I haven't composed a thousand things in my head, mind you. I am always writing in my head, it seems. But I have not wanted to look at the computer screen.
Also, I have two sick children at home, one with an ear infection and one with fever, cold and stomach bug.
We are all a mess. I tell you, it's been a trying season of sickness around here.
We have all been seen by medical professionals in the past two days, however, are on various medications for this and that, and I believe we are all heading for a speedy recovery.
I am sure I will be able to sit and write tomorrow.

Good News!

I talked to Gramp this afternoon and he informed me that 10 packets of seeds came in today!! Ironic, isn't it, that they come on the day it decides to snow and snow and snow some more?
Never mind that, though. I am excited, and ready to start getting seeds in the ground. This week, for sure, I will do some planting!!
We are waiting on another shipment, but I think our cold weather stuff, like carrots, peas, green beans, lettuce and spinach came in. I'll get to see what all we got when I go to Gramp's for Sunday dinner tomorrow.
Also, wanted to record Daniel's ongoing evolution in his pronunciation of "ketchup and mustard," which he eats with lots of stuff and so asks for often.
At dinner this evening, it was "shup and mum-etch," for his fries. I like this one. It makes me smile.
Here he is. . . wearing a little!

Old man winter has NOT left the building

Well, I heard it, but scarce believed it.
They were predicting snow for this weekend, but when I woke up to warmish temps and rain, I thought, well, it must have passed us by. Maybe old man Winter left gracefully after all.
Turns out, he hasn't.
He will go kicking and screaming, it seems.
His frosty fingers have caught Spring in his snowy, icy grasp, one last time.
Tomorrow, however, he will be sorry.
Sunny skies and temps in the mid-50s will send his sorry bum packing, and quick. Hopefully, for good this time.
But for now, this is what it looks like outside. . .
The big boys are on a date with dad this snowy Saturday afternoon. They went to see a movie . . . Monsters vs Aliens, or some such thing. It is the perfect kind of day for an outing with dad.
Daniel and I are watching the snow fall outside through the window, and playing with socks. You never know what he'll find interesting! We are relaxing.
We had a busy week.
It was hard, readjusting to school and activities after such a nice break the week before last. But, we are back in the swing of things.
We received our grain mill in the post this week. Joe got one from e-bay. We have a bucket of wheat berries that we can now grind into flour, or something like it, anyway. The mill leaves the grain a bit coarse, I think. We are going to try grinding corn too, to see what that is like.
Here are Joe and Daniel, trying out the new mill.
So far, this post has been a bit random.
In keeping with that spirit, here are some cute things Daniel has been saying these days.
Yesterday, he asked for "petch 'n munst-a" with this chicken nuggets (An old acquaintance reminded me in a note today that Josiah used to call chicken nuggets, "chicken nuts").
And when we were done praying for dinner, he yelled out "A-ben!"
He is too funny, and definitely too cute.
Josiah's birthday is right around the corner. He will be seven.
Where does the time go? The question I find myself asking a lot these days is, am I making the most of it? Time, I mean. And my life.
Am I savoring the time? Or am I wishing it away, rushing it along, not noticing things I should as they blur by me?
Am I living every moment, or just passing time?
I don't want to pass the moments. I want to stop. To live in them. To notice them and every commonly holy thing, every beautiful person in them.
There is so much for me to do this afternoon: laundry, dishes, dusting, vacuuming, cleaning the boys room, the bathrooms, my bedroom. These tasks all need to be done. And I will do them.
And I will watch the snow fall. I will play "socks" with my son. I will wait with anticipation for Joe and the boys to come home, full of stories and wanting to recount every scene of the movie back to me. I will look them in their wide eyes while they are talking to me. And watch their mouths form the words. I will laugh and ask questions.
I will love every moment of it.

Chicken and dumplings for the soul

Yesterday, we woke to torrential rain and rolling thunder.
It down-poured all morning, and when I walked out of my classroom in the afternoon, I was surprised to see the most brilliant blue sky and the sun, shinning on the still wet pavement. It was warmer that it had been earlier in the day, but cooler than it has been in a while. There was an early Spring chill in the air that was reminiscent of New Jersey springs of my childhood.
It was the perfect weather for a large pot of chicken and dumplings. Joe prepared the chicken and veggies before I got home from school, and then I made and added the dumplings (which, for some reason, either clumped up with each other or completely disintegrated into the stock, making a nice, creamy soup, but reducing the number of dumplings in the pot!).
I quickly made some biscuits to take the place of the dumplings and called it good.
And it was.
Good!
It was so warm and tasty, with lots of chunky veggies and tender chicken. Spooned over the biscuits, it was the perfect meal for a day like yesterday.
Isaac had several helpings.
After dinner, it was nice enough for the boys and Joe and David to do some work in the yard.
I spent some time plotting out our garden on paper and researching organic pesticides and vermin repellents. I think one thing I will do is plant marigolds around the perimeter of my beds. I may try some catnip too. Tigger and Tiger will love that! I have read that rabbits do not.
I talked to my friend Sandy today, also, about gardening. I am learning things by the minute, it seems. Remember, I have never done this before. This is a maiden voyage, if you will, of gardening for us.
Today, I learned that you plant melons in mounds. Fascinating.
I am not too uptight about how things turn out this year. While I want to be successful and reap a bountiful harvest, I know that this year is the learning curve for me. Some things will turn out and some things may not. I am okay with this, as long as I can learn from my mistakes and do it better next time.
I am very anxious, however, to receive our seeds. We called the seed company and they said they would be sending them out this week. If there is nothing by Friday, I will call again.
We have some time planned out on Sunday to do a little work in the garden with the Brooks, but we'll have to see. Snow is in the forcast for Saturday, and a friend was telling me today that it may be quite a bit of snow.
Today is a beautiful day, but a bit on the cooler side.
Daniel loves to see the pre-schoolers on our way to class. If the day is nice, they are outside playing int he play-yard. He always stops to play. Today, they were blowing bubbles. He participated in the fun until all the kids were picked up.
Later, during class, he brought me a black marker and said, "dis black." Shocked that he would know that, I picked up a red marker and asked, "what color is this?"
"Um, red!" he yelled.
"Very good!!" I said, in amazement.
He looked at me and asked "Pink?" and shrugged his shoulders.
Who knew he knew this stuff. I have not been going over colors with him.
Never underestimate the power of Blue's Clues!
I am not looking forward to the cold weather predicted for this weekend, but I say, bring it on . . . we have leftover chicken and dumplings!!

Back at it

This morning, 6 o'clock came way too early!
When I went in to wake up the boys, I tousseled Josiah's hair and said, "C'mon, bud. Time to get up! It's a school day."
I had to do this several times, and on my final, "let's go, Jo, we have to get up now," when he finally began to stir, he said, in a rather sleepy voice as he rubbed his eyes, "Can I get the dust out of my eyes?"
It was so cute. I had to laugh.
And so, it was on with our day.
Dressing and breakfasting and getting gym clothes and bags ready to head out the door.
Kissing dad good-bye and driving through the windy, misty morning to the school.
And in the car, on the way to school, I found myself praying, "God, help me get the dust out of my eyes today."

The first day of Spring, the last day of Spring Break, and a day to remember

Very Early Spring
by Katherine Mansfield

The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky--
So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold.
Now the sun walks in the forest,
He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;
They shiver, and wake from slumber.
Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls.
Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears....
A wind dances over the fields.
Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,
Yet the little blue lakes tremble;
And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.


It was the first day of Spring on Friday.
Mostly cloudy and damp, with a cold rain coming on in the afternoon, it paled in comparison to the days preceding it.
All through the beginning of this week, the weather was simply gorgeous. Blue skies and breezes and sunshine. Warm temps, and on one day, it was almost hot.
We were giddy with it, the boys and I.
Drunk from the smell of warm, damp dirt, green grass, blooming buds.
We were outside every moment it was possible to be there.
This week has been full of hard work and even harder play, and I can't believe it is almost over.
Yes, tonight is our last Spring Break night.
There was a freedom to our days, an easy embracing of things we had to do and things we wanted to do, which we will be hard pressed to part with come Monday morning.
On Thursday, my mom, the boys, one of their friends and I went on an adventure.
The weather was a bit cooler than it had been the three days before, but the sun was shinning brightly, beckoning us out and about for a much needed day of play.
We packed up the car and headed out of town in the morning.
Our first stop, and an impromptu one at that, was at a museum in Galena that is housed in an old train depot. It holds much history of the town and its surrounding areas. We stayed there for a bit, looking at all the relics and listening to the elderly man and woman who were working there tell stories of how various pieces ended up at the museum, or what certain things were and how they worked. They answered any questions we had. The boys got a few Kodak moments in, and we were off -- but not too far.
By then, we were ready for lunch, but not being too familiar with the area, we decided to eat at a local cafe right next door to the museum that looked more like a tin box than a restaurant. But hey, Guy Fieri swears that some of the best places to eat in America are Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, so we gave it a try and hoped this place would be worthy of a spot on his popular t.v. show.
We walked in to one large room that had two unoccupied booths against one wall which comprised the "non-smoking section", and the entire rest of the room was dotted with people eating, smoking, and in some cases, eating while smoking.
I was pretty sure there were some codes being violated, but the food did look good, and we really had not seen anywhere else to eat (except a Sonic up the road, but that's not very exotic, and we were on an adventure, here!).
There was no name on the outside of the establishment, but the top of the menu read "Pickle Jeans Cafe."
We ordered, and after a short wait, had delicious lunches in front of us.
After we ate, it was off to the nature park.
The last time we were at that park, my dad was with us.
We pulled in and parked and got out of the car, and as soon as I saw the rocky beach of the river, I could see my dad, hood up against the biting wind of that long ago day, bending down to search the shallow for rocks and shells he thought my mom would like.
I stood for a long moment, my stomach twisting inside me, tears stinging my eyes, hoping against hope that I could close my eyes and open them again, and he would be there, grinning at me, holding up a treasure he was patient to find.
It was hard to let go of that moment, but my kids were running down to the river bank, and I ran down with them.
We spent our time there looking at nature, gathering rocks and shells. The boys played war among the trees and tall grasses. They got to explore a bat cave, too. Daniel played on the playground for a while. He loves to slide down the slide, and the bigger and twistier, the better. Sometimes, I think he's going to give me a heart attack!! Then, he got to take it easy and ride. He napped in peace out in the fresh air.


At one point, Josiah looked up at my mom and sighed, "This is a day to remember . . ."
There is a building there, high up on a hill, that looks out over the whole park. You can bird watch there, or look at the displays and books and live animals they have.
We had fun looking at all the stuff and talking to the two women who volunteer their time to open the place up and make it available to the public.
As the afternoon went on, we decided we needed to head home if we were going to make it in time for family dinner -- and we had to make it. I was cooking that evening.
On the way home, we stopped at another little gem of a place on what was old Rt. 66 (this place is actually briefly featured in the special features of the Disney Pixar movie, Cars).
It is a charming deli/grocery/souvenir shop and it has lots of Rt. 66 paraphernalia.
When I walked in, I got such a warm, old-timey feeling. I wanted to move right in!
Instead, I bought some seeds for my garden and we got some snacks to sustain us on our drive home, and we were off.
When we got home, we told Joe all about the day, and showed him the pictures of our adventures.
Our pleasant reunion was interrupted by a man with a bulldozer, who came to our door to inform us that the person who bought the property behind us was wanting to take the row of blackberry bushes that line the back of our property down so he can build a fence for his horses.
I was appalled. I do not want to lose those bushes! But Joe, ever the diplomat, talked to him and expressed our strong desire to keep the bushes where they are. He was also clear, however, that he did not want to and would not argue with our neighbor over bushes.
That was two days ago, and, as of today the bushes remain.
Later, at my mom's, I made pasta e fagoli and steak with a salad.
Grandpa, God bless him, made a coconut custard pie! Yum.
I have broken my Lenten fast too many times this week. I always had a good reason, but I am trying to teach my boys that reasons are not excuses, and so, I will endeavor to do better next week.
Yesterday, we left the boys with my mom, and Joe and I went out of town with our Pastor, Doug, and his wife, Denise, to edit a book Doug wrote about God's plan of legacy in the church. It is titled The Lost Treasure: Reclaiming the Inheritance of the Church. We had a wonderful time together, and I feel like, in working on this book, I have been a part of something so significant and integral to this important, foundational Kingdom principle of legacy being released into the earth. I know that reading over the manuscript as we were editing it, the material pierced my heart again over issues of legacy.
As I sit and reflect over the past few days, the words of Josiah come back to me . . . "This is a day to remember . . . "
I hope he does.
I hope they all remember every golden moment of these growing up years.
That is the reason I do this -- write this blog and stick in lots of pictures.
I write so they will remember.
So I will.
Here are some pictures from the day that I like: