A Running Collection

 The mirror tells the story from today. I see it and laugh -- My long sleeve black shirt spattered with flour, grafted with smashed banana, dusted with ashes, caked with dirt and stretched from tiny hands and toes squirmy from a satisfied snack. This is what is rich. This is what fills up. The children wake me early so we rumple and tickle and cackle. I slide out of bed and hurry to the faithful French press and water kettle to start the coffee and grab the waffle recipe. It is Waffle Friday. We gobble down waffles, piddle around a bit and pack up the snack basket for a trip to Orchard Pond Organics. The goal was to "help". Amelia longs to harvest anything, so I'd called and asked if we could help. They start early and we were late. It was our first visit and four and six year olds don't show up often to help here, but they were gracious and sent us to weed some greens. Adventure friend Dorrie digs and pulls with us. Sweet farmer stays close and tells stories an...

You came slowly it seemed. We had to wait to try for you. Then, You were suddenly there, in my womb. Then, Eleven days late. Then, Nineteen hours of labor. Nine pounds Eleven ounces. You cried with a purple face. We waited -- seconds seemed like hours. Purple. Oxygen. Then perfectly pink. Then, You suckled in a flash. You held tight and didn't stop. You were strong and beautiful and peaceful. You slept the night that night, But you've kept me company in the early hours 360 nights. William, you've given our family such life. You have been our constant companion. Your inquiring mind wants to know every detail of dinner preparation, Lego making, puzzle working, math equations, motorcycle maintenance, fire building, trampolining, chicken feeding, sheep care, Little House on the Prairie, and laundry folding. You inspect and dissect and recreate and unbuild and undo and wear and taste it all. You want to be in the middle of morning cuddles. You need n...

On this day, last year, we were waiting and waiting. It was nine days past William's due date, and we would wait two more. Those 9 days were so very very long and the last year has been so very very not  long. We didn't know if we were waiting on a boy or a girl. We were just waiting for something big... 

 Instrument cases litter the floor. Voices bounce off the walls. Strings vibrate. Music fills the air. I'm stopping to write a bit with sweet music all around. Thanksgiving vacation has filled us up with sun and sounds and sweet potato casserole. We didn't know we would spend Wednesday digging in warm white sand, watching the sun drop behind the horizon, and playing with Georgia friends; it was an unexpected reunion. It was a glorious day. It was soul food. We returned home and fell into bed. Filled up, I woke to run the Turkey Trot here in Tallahassee. I love to stand freezing cold jumping up and down with a group of strangers. I can smell clean clothes as we bundle and wait for the start. Soon the clean will wash away with the warmth of the sun mixed with sweat and strength and exhaustion. The race starts and I zig zag through the crowd looking for a space for my pace. It takes awhile today. The crowd is big. 6000+. People take off too fast and talk too much and fall aw...

 The children have discovered that the ipad is quite entertaining. We haven't downloaded any apps yet so if anyone has some good ideas of apps for kids....Currently, they play with google maps and type words and make silly faces with the camera. Last Wednesday Amelia was jumping on the trampoline with brother. She attempted to jump on one leg while George Wilder was bouncing. Bad combination. Her tibia isn't quite right, but it is not severe; however she has a massive cast on it for good measure. She is not in pain but she is certainly struggling to drag the cast around and to find things to do from a sitting position. ipad. We've also mixed paint with sand and salt and grits for texture, and made chalk drawings like Degas. We've smeared acrylic paint and etched in it. Amelia decided she could start making Christmas decorations. I need my dear Emily to come reteach her how to crochet! We borrowed an idea from friend Clare and did a small study on the phases of the...

We fall out of the car and into a cart. The Salvation Army Man with a swirly mustache waves hello and Amelia wants to give him all of our change immediately. He wants to know where I found such handsome children. We need to collect groceries. I don't use a list. I hardly ever do. It is about the silliest way. Instead I say, "Don't let mama leave the store without hot sauce." So every isle we pass, the children say, "Hot Sauce Mama!" I let them choose what we have for supper. They order black eyed peas, collard greens, and corn bread. We collect collards and green beans and spinach. There are at least five or six employees working the produce section. All of them greet us warmly and ask if they can help us find anything. Anything at all. There isn't anything I can't find, but we thank them, say hello and continue on our way. In the isles we see the green aprons and wave. They ask how we are and say the children are lovely and a lady shopping says,...

Yes that is a violin on top of an upside down trash can, but when it is time to brew and the weather is right, why not use the waiting time to fiddle.  George sure knows how to use his time most efficiently. He has picked up so many tunes and has taught Amelia a few. They will be dueling in no time!  William has found all the spots and crooks and crannies and pantries. He is into everything!   They were sure they could carve their own pumpkin and they did a great job and the trip to the pumpkin patch was super exciting.  The temperature dropped and Amelia got out all of her warm clothes. Her fashion statement is something between a logger/GapKid/glitter girl.  Friend Dorrie came over to do some potato stamping. We had the most glorious time creating intricate designs on the potato half! Dorrie's husband, Rob, will turn them into real stamps and we will have real stamps of their tree and flower to go on a stamp scavenger hunt! ...