Take your needle, my child, and work at your pattern; it will come out a rose by and by. Life is like that – one stitch at a time taken patiently and the pattern will come out all right like the embroidery.
- Oliver Wendell Holmes
"Up through the doors, out through the back door…"
(back stitch, chain stitch, running stitch, blanket stitch)
A big project around here lately has been scanning all the shoeboxes of old pictures. There were a lot of them. I am ashamed to say we are just now doing this. SO many disasters could have befallen them over the years. I shudder to think. 15 houses, 10 babies, 5 states, a couple countries, and a fair number of miscellaneous crises in the intervening years kept me preoccupied. Being the poster child for biting off more than I could chew didn't help either. Which brings us to date and saddled with all these vulnerable pictures.
My solution was to pay the 12 yr old to sit here and scan pictures while watching netflix. Brilliant. <g> He was happy as a lark and more than qualified to move pictures from box, to scanner bed, to another box. A couple movies and several hundred pictures later we are nearly done. If you find the prospect daunting I suggest tapping your young people. No willing workers? There are national scanning services and many local printers or photography shops will do the job as well.
I am sharing some links with tips for scanning your old photos here and here Basically you want to be sure your scanner is set to 'photo' vs document and at 300dpi.
When you are done scanning consider saving copies of the files to an external hard drive. Cpu's fail. Hard drives fail. One copy is unwise.
And don't forget the whole point of having these pictures is that they are part of your story. Tell it. The most important book you will ever write is the one you write for your family. What happened? When? Where? and more importantly – how did you feel about that? This is what I am working on now.
It's ok to document random memories out of 'order'. If they come to mind when you see an old picture, write it down. If you don't have photoshop, start a photobook at Shutterfly and drag an old photo over to your project here and there as the mood strikes. They keep your stuff saved a long time. (another back up)
The Homburg flea market yielded what, for me, was an awesome snag – an old volksmarching walking stick. When we were here in the 80s volksmarching was huge. They were 10km walks which drew large crowds. People joined volksmarch clubs and hiked together socially. When you participated in a walk you would earn a small metal badge which you tacked onto a walking stick like this one. People collected badges from all over.
People still walk here with great enthusiasm, but I see few sticks. Nordic walking poles have largely replaced the old canes. I was glad to find this one which was covered in badges. The others I have seen have had far fewer. Must have been a well-traveled volksmarcher. : )
Late one afternoon in Prague we quite literally wandered into a side door of this church. We try to alternate our street sights with indoor sights so Allen and I the children can rest. Once inside we discovered there was a concert in progress. It had been at intermission when we entered. We were able to enjoy the end of the performance and Abbie caught a nap. Someone else appears to be snoozing as well, but he will tell you he was awake. <g> He gets a kitchen pass for this one since he had run 13 miles earlier in the day.
This was possibly the most magnificent chandelier I have ever seen. Ever.
Actually it looks like Kieran nodded off as well. Please excuse the exhausted Americans. : )
It has been a nice few days but gosh I am sleepy tonight. A proper update is in order. We have made some lovely pies and my nose has been buried in books lately when I can steal away from moving prep. Hopefully soon I will get some things typed out here about all that. Meantime, the village is lush and green with all the rain we have had so I will just share some glimpses around town right now.
lettuces peeking through the fruit trees in the neighbor's garden
I know what you're thinking. I have no idea. But I have been behind them on the open road I tell you. In this country, anything with wheels has the same right of way as you do in your car to include horse drawn wagon, tractors, and yes, three-wheeled dealie-bobs. Hence, the license plate. : )
There are German colors flying everywhere. I am so sports ignorant I initially wondered at this sudden display of patriotism. I even briefly worried it was indicative of anti-American sentiment. The vuvuzelas clued me in however. They apparently cross borders and have international appeal. Really late at night too.
My sidekick pooped out. She really needed a nap which is pretty hard to admit when you have so many older brothers and sisters who don't. I convinced her to ride in the stroller though and she didn't make it very far.
There was a frenzy of hay-cutting recently. The farmer behind us made several turns 'round the field out back and then came back to continue into the night. (below) I know this because I stay up far too late these days, but am hitting the hay now – no pun intended…
It is coming up altogether too often lately – cancer. Striking far closer to home than we'd like. Rob is still fighting for his life having undergone several rounds of chemo and two major surgeries, with two more to follow. Another friend is in Munich this month while her husband receives treatment there. Two close family members of my husband have underdone surgery and/or other cancer treatments in the past couple months. We have prayed and prayed. St. Peregrine has heard a lot from us indeed.
We were running errands Saturday, leaving a deposit for the temporary furnished place we will be staying in between the time our things are moved out and we leave the country. The cell phone rang with very bad news. Jemma, my friend Julie's littlest one, had been hospitalized a few days earlier for what had become a really significant infection. There had been no apparent cause however and by Saturday morning they had to begin considering ominous explanations. Scans and bloodwork confirmed she has ALL – Leukemia I choked over the words when I called home to tell the girls. Not Jemma. : /
Julie, you might remember, is the creator of the Speed Math card game. We spend Tuesday mornings together over cameras and knitting needles. Tomorrow her older daughter comes for her last piano lesson with Alannah. Then life changes. She and her brother will press on with a prearranged vacation to family in the States to be cared for there. Julie, meantime, will be bedside with Jemma through a 35day in-patient course of chemo which will be followed by many times weekly outpatient visits for 6months and 18 months of regular appointments after. Assuming all goes well of course.
Jemma is a curly-topped blonde dynamo, the bitty one pictured below and here. She speaks good German which will help a great deal at the hospital. At just five she performs with the local German folk dancing club, kicking her tiny feet over head and spinning in time. She is a classic girly-girl, loving dress-up and hairbows and handcrafts – which she is remarkably good at for such a young age. We would like to see her be able to enjoy as much of the things she loves in life as possible while going through treatment.
We are leaving very soon but I wish to continue to walk this road with Julie's family if we can help in any way. If you would like to support Jemma and her family also, we have thought of some ways to do that. Jemma will be losing those lovely curls to the chemo. We would love to shower her with accessories to wear in their place. Hats, elasticized hair bows or flowers, costume jewelry, wings/feathers etc. These things are harder to come by in Germany.
She has an ipad so gift certificates to the itunes store for educational apps or audio books would bless them too as they pass the hours at the hospital. Small handcrafts. The children in Julie's family absolutely love to get postcards from around the world. Jemma loves mail. (I am going to suggest that if you were thinking of purchasing a pack of Julie's math cards maybe go ahead and do that now too : )) I know a lot of creative women read this blog, some of whose families have weathered cancer as well, and will have ideas I haven't considered too. If so, please contact Julie or I and we can give you their mailing address which is an American address and will not cost more to send to.
edited to correct email to
jmommymom@gmail.com
Highhill Homeschool blog
"I would be most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves."
~Anna Quindlen
That is how we spent the better part of Thursday in pursuit of UK Visas. In so many ways the past few months have been a comedy of errors, one of those comedies that are funnier when you're not a main character. We have been working hard at offering it up and trying to roll with it. What else can you do? Still, every now and then something surprises you. In the case of Thursday it was that everything went right. Everything.
These Visas are a really big deal. We cannot do a thing without them but we couldn't apply for them until Allen's paperwork came back from the base. As it turns out the paperwork sat in the limbo of someone's outbox, forgotten for a week or so, which set us back considerably. So once we had the documents in hand we headed for Düssedorf, a 3.5 hr drive.
I missed most of the ride there. We had confirmations this week as well and extra feis practices. We had to leave at 5am to make our 9 am appointments. I collapsed in bed late Wed night, rose early to fill them with Raisin Bran and nudge everyone towards the door. Then I promptly fell asleep in the car.
It rained pretty hard approaching the city and I was dreading the potentially long wet walk from however far away we would have to park and reminding myself of the dismal condition of the few umbrellas we own. As we got off the autobahn we entered a sea of red tail lights with about a half hour before the appt. And then….then it all just worked out.
Traffic cleared and we found a few parking spots on the same block as the border agency. That just never happens. Never. Happens. We rang the bell to the building which is as secure as Fort Knox. We were ushered in and immediately frisked and searched which was a little unnerving. The staff was visibly tense looking over our group. As we moved into the waiting room however we were super pleased to note that it appeared as if everything we needed to do was right there and there weren't many other customers.
Allen went over the applications with one staffer and we settled in the chairs for close to an hour while they processed our packages. Then they called me back for my semi-Orwellian 'biometrics' fingerprinting and scans. With a heavy sigh and anxious rifling through the packages the gentleman informed me that I would have to stay in the room while he processed all the children since they are under 18. No problem, I said. He looked over the packages again and passed over several of the smaller children and we began fingerprinting and scanning each of them, one by one.
I am not sure what he expected but when we finished the last child he heaved another big sigh, this time of relief, and shook his head. "I see a discipline there. They are all so calm. When we have children here it is usually bad. Very bad. But these were very good." As we went back out to the security check and were led to the door the staff there piped in as well thanking the children for their behavior. We got back to the vehicle ten minutes ahead of our 2 hr parking deadline. All good.
Every day isn't like that day. There are days – and I am just pulling from my own history here – when your 7 year old pukes right as you are paying the cashier at the convenience store, or your toddler decides they have to pee RIGHT NOW…. and does. (that would be the day you forgot to pack a change of clothes of course) There are days when they drop the good salad bowl. Days when they back into the lamp post, or a tree (take your pick) Days when one of them wades along the beach and splits his foot open halfway through your once in a lifetime Disney vacation – requiring a wheelchair for the rest of the park visit. Days when the teenager does things so unbelievably flippin' stupid you wonder if there is any possible way the nursery switched him up at birth. There are days like that.
And then there are these days, when you smile easy, pat them all on the head, and consider that maybe you didn't completely screw up this parenting gig. Not completely anyway. You live for these days. Write them down. You will want to refer back eventually. : )
…the wellies that is. : )
My baby girl donned her cap and gown this weekend, graduating from high school with her besties, along the shore of wooded pond. It was a tremendous moment for us all, not because we didn't see it coming. She didn't just burst into womanhood but has just naturally eased right into it, feeling very comfortable in her skin.
I realized this time, the fourth time we have sent a child forth out of our homeschool nest, that it is different now. People ask, "Does it get easier?" They mean, I think, "Does parenting get easier? Does teaching (and choosing curricula and methods) get easier? Does letting go get easier?" Well, it must, because the thing that has struck me the most about all that in recent weeks is that I no longer feel the angst I felt as a young mom.
Decisions that were all consuming for many, many years no longer occupy my every waking moment. Not because we no longer have small children, for we definitely do. Somehow it is easier now to make peace with the reality that every choice we make necessarily closes other doors. It is easier to trust that even if we don't select the very 'best' math program or music lesson or scout troop that God can still make everything work for good if our intentions are sincere. It is a little bit easier to feel in my heart that even if they aren't under my roof, we are still bound very tightly in our hearts.
I don't know where life is taking this girl of ours. She will be close by for a bit yet, taking advantage of this opportunity to see Europe. But I know that even when she leaves, she is still our own dear girl. And we are going to be ok. As she said in her commencement speech, "We've got this."
It isn't just kids that grow up. Families do too.
(the dads gave speeches as well as the girls' close friend, Sarah. Then the girls each shared some thoughts.)
Thank goodness for some levity at this point because there was not a dry eye by then!
All I am going to say about this is that dessert may or may not have been analogous to our homeschool journey. We sighed over Pinterest images of little cake pop graduates. Then, as we attempted a makeshift double boiler far too late the morning of the ceremony, our white chocolate 'seized'. We improvised with tiny 'diplomas' made of Ho-Ho's last minute. They worked. They were devoured. And no one was any worse for wear for having missed the cake pop experience. note this : )
It's been a marvelous ride, sweet girl.
Starry Sky Journal 