One of my favorite reads in recent weeks has been a reread of Scott Savage’s A Plain Life. It was published in 2000 so it couldn’t have been just all that long since I read it the first time but there was a lot to chew on. Scott and his wife Mary Ann walked away from an yuppie urban existence to embrace a Quaker lifestyle as a result of their “pursuit of a more meaningful life together and the spiritual gifts… uncovered along the way.” He tells the story of their journey in the context of his physical journey, by foot, from their small town in Ohio to the DMV in Columbus where he deposited his driver’s license. His reasons for doing so, particularly since the day he arrived was the day the license was due to expire anyway were personal rather than practical and articulated as he walked.

The first read for me was a bit of vicarious thrill. Here was a family thumbing their noses at public perception of progress to seek a simpler, saner life of less power (both physical and social) and more connectedness. The second go ’round reveals a broader message, even for a woman like myself who spends a fair amount of time in a 15 passenger van. He poses thoughtful questions about relationships, authenticity, and offers nonjudgemental reflections on the range of personal responses to such challenges.

The writing easily moves between humor and concern. Introspection mixes with the reality of negotiating a horse and buggy in a zoom-zoom world. I could have written his description of themselves at the journey’s beginning:

MaryAnn and I had always shared a great unhappiness with modern American culture. We couldn’t find a comfortable place for ourselves amid the shallowness and cynicism masquerading as coolness and irony many of our 20-something peers bought into. We also didn’t like the sheer ugliness of modern life. We both valued old: old houses, old forests, old neighborhoods, old people. The more close we got to old the better we could compare it to the new. And something about the new, in the most pervasive way, didn’t feel right.

Nope it doesn’t. Though of course, ultimately our response to that pervasive problem of ugliness in all its literal and figurative incarnations will be as unique as each of us is.

That is the sound of a happy woman. : ) We are the new owners of a Mac and couldn’t be happier so far. After umpteen years of battling with pc’s this is blessed relief. I wish we had taken the plunge sooner.

This lent, like most of our lents, has been full of unexpected challenges and redirection. The children and Allen are plugging along with their meatless season. I had to return to the diet my Dr prescribed for me. Guess he knew what he was doing. I have an uncommon form of arthritis that responds to little else but a no-starch diet. Long story. Its related to a starch loving bacteria which is molecularly similar to the genetic blood marker for the disease. Odd. Apparently vegetarianism is not for everyone at any rate. Spent a week not movin’ well. : / All is much better now and we are getting back to normal. Whatever that is.

Allen’s grandfather passed away and he is planning to attend the memorial service. A blessing for the man but nevertheless sad for those left behind. We are hitting the point in life where mortality is impossible to avoid. Our day will come and if the speed with which recent years have passed is any indication it will likely surprise us. I remember reading once that most likely one of us (in a marriage) will eventually be burying the other. It is a sobering reality. Makes you look at each day a little differently. (go send your husband a love letter!)

The children have been making good progress in school. They are loving the Story of the World Volume II and seem to be retaining the stories remarkably well. They have made lovely notebook pages and narrations which I will upload as soon as I can figure out the new printer/scanner. Not millions of them, but some very nice work. I am very pleased with the care they have taken. We also picked up some Spectrum workbooks for one of them and I am as happy with those now as I have been in the past. Cheap, effective, user friendly. The writing series seems to have exercises very similar to those we have seen in Calvert School’s curriculum. They have been a good addition to our program, leading the writer from elementary categorizing exercises to graphic organizers to topic sentences etc rather painlessly.

I haven’t been online much but that has been alright too. There has been lots of time to read, both with the children and on my own. I realized that had fallen by the wayside – relaxed, kicked back reading replaced by snatches of online articles. This has provided a good balance. I hope to share some bits and pieces of that in coming days. Balance is a good thing.

M is nearly ready to publish. Expect that Funschool entry this week.

What else? Lots more and nothing more I suppose – the minutia that makes up our lives and commands our attention from day to day. Daily chores interspersed with the occasional major speedbump. Waking up with resolve and vision, falling into a well-earned sleep at day’s end. Hopefully the new machines and continued organizing and decluttering will translate into more crafting soon. That is one weak link here. It has been a very hands off many months art-wise and it is taking a toll on my morale. It is definitely time to make something. Meantime I can honestly say we have had many restful moments together tucked in between the rest of it all and cherish them more than I can say. I hope the same is true for you. : )

Ok off to start the day and will try to share more before long. God bless.

Kieran celebrated his birthday tonight.  6 years old. He spent much of the evening competing with his father and brothers to see who had the best shot with the new Nerf suction bullet gun. It was loud. It was messy. It was very Kieran. : )

Kieran has been a lot of fun. Never a dull moment with this boy.  Right from the beginning he was an intense little man. His birth rivals Brendan’s for Most Eventful. He was due on Valentine’s Day which was pretty cool but I didn’t think I would go that long. Still, when I woke up with a massive contraction at 1am on the 7th I didn’t think it would amount to much. I didn’t think much of the next one either.  After the next 3 or 4 it seemed like some raspberry tea was in order.  It takes a reeeeeeeeeeaally long time to make tea when you are contracting. You get the pot out and then breathe.  You fill the pot and then breathe. You look for the tea box and then breathe. Before you know it, it can be like 2am and then some.

After an hour of strong contractions I asked Allen to get up and sit with me.  He got to work filling our tub so I could try to relax and see if this was the real deal. I still smile when I remember this part of the story.  We lived on base and our government issue tub had an overflow drain about 5 inches from the bottom of the tub. He rigged up a ziplock bag and duct tape plug for the overflow drain and I finally settled in to soak.  Allen decided it was probably a good idea to pack the hospital bag.  Just in case.  Word of caution – don’t let your husband pack your hospital bag. ; )  It did keep him busy while I breathed though and for that he was grateful. <g>

That soak in the tub lasted about ten minutes. Then my water broke. That was a bad thing. I am notorious for giving birth almost immediately after my water breaks. That explains the stricken look he had upon learning this news. His only words: Please get dressed!

It takes a reeeeeeeeeeally long time to get dressed when you are contracting. You get one arm in and then you breathe.  You get another arm in then you breathe. You wonder if your clothes were always so hard to get into. Allen announced brightly that the car was warmed up and ready to go.  He looked hopeful at that point. I waddled out to the driveway, actually attempted to sit in the car. He was mentally high fiving himself and then I lurched back up.  Nope. Can’t sit. What?  Can’t sit???  How about we take the Suburban?  Its bigger and the seats are more comfortable.  Fine.

Allen backed the car out. Got the Suburban fired up and came around to help me. I made a heroic effort to bend but it just was not going to happen. I told him straight – I cannot get into the vehicle. What??  PLEASE get in the car!  More pleading followed.  Then defeat. So, like, what now????  Should he call the ambulance?  That really didn’t seem like a good idea. The only thing worse than bending right then was the prospect of bouncing along on my back on a gurney all the way to the hospital.  Agh. In that fog that is labor consciousness I assured him I was just going to go back into the house and check things out.  The man has birthed a lot of babies with me. He pretty much assessed the situation himself at that point and called the ambulance.

If you ever watched Rescue 911 you might expect the operator to whip out her handy dandy spiral bound flip book with scripted how-to-have-a-baby directions and begin to calmly explain exactly what should happen when your wife calls from the bedroom that the reason she couldn’t bend was because the baby’s head was crowning. You would be mistaken however.  You might even be put ON HOLD. I kid you not. The fire station was ON OUR CORNER. But they put the man on hold and transferred him to another unit.  He didn’t wait around for that. He threw the phone to Colin who was in charge and got back to the bedroom in time to catch the rest of the baby. It was 3am.  I kid you not again.

Colin must have given them directions because about 15 minutes later they arrived looking about as stunned as we were and even more clueless. Probably at lot more clueless since most of them had never actually seen a baby born. They were very nice however and let us show the baby to the children and rest for a bit before packing us off to the hospital.

The paper came by later that week and took pictures. Our five minutes of fame. <g> Some time later we were shopping on base and a lady recognized us and asked if he was the baby delivered by his Daddy.  Indeed. Who knows what is in store for a boy who starts out like that. Great things I am sure.