Can you hear the angels singing?

I can! Next week will mark the end of a very trying and difficult phase for our family. Matt will complete EMT school, thereby freeing up the 30+ hours of school related activities to do other things. And by other, I mean hang out with Karis and I. I am so excited I can barely stand it. Matt's absence 80 hours a week has not been good on any of us. But we have survived, and we certainly all appreciate each other A WHOLE LOT MORE.

So...Light up the grill. Start up the band, and bring on the parade. Let's celebrate time together as a family!!

I am having fun imagining all the things we will be able to do with his newfound free time. I think a little bit of this is in order:
and this,
and even some of this,
and this.

Pears, paint, and pastors

Yesterday restored my love for Saturdays. First off, there was a nip in the air. Yes, that's right. What has been talked about on blogs around the country for weeks now has finally hit North Florida. With temps in the upper 60's/lower 70's, I dare say fall has decided it was time to head our way. I even sit here writing away with the window open and a nice cool breeze coming in. I'm content.

Pears
I washed a pear yesterday and sliced through it. Then I stood there for a second staring at it. Then I ran and got my camera. This seems to happening a lot lately. Ordinary moments and objects catching my eye and begging to be captured with my camera. So I give you my latest find. A beautiful bartlett pear. Now really, folks. Isn't it beautiful with it's symmetry and graceful curves?

Here's to hoping you guys find beauty in the ordinary and mundane around you this week!

Paint
I spent yesterday afternoon working on a home improvement project that I hope to share here soon. I spread out the tarp and sat on my driveway painting while listening to the most recent edition of the Splendid Table. What is already such an inspiring show about all things food was particularly interesting today. The host interviewed Nigella Lawson, and they talked about good books revolving around the topic of food...my wish list continues to grow. I think I ought to label it a "check out from the library" list...my budget and my husband will thank me.

Pastors
We are the new guys in our neighborhood, and we are slowly but surely meeting people and getting a feel for the neighborhood vibe. Yesterday I got to hang out a little bit with a group of neighbors. Our children played together and we made pleasant small talk. The conversation turned toward discussing where Matt and I are from and our life story up to this point. I shared something that Matt and I have come to tell people rather hesitantly, only if necessary. I told them that he had worked for a church. I got a typical response: raised eyebrows and an "Oh."

It's not that I am ashamed of our work with the church. I treasure my relationship with Jesus. Matt and I have a passion to be around people who don't know Jesus or care much about His work in our lives. When we are often around such people we find that the revelation that we worked for a church automatically turns us into "holy people." You know, the curse word police or the one who has to pray at meals, or the one who wouldn't understand the way sin actually works as if we don't sin or are too hypocritical to admit it.

Anyways, now they know. I guess I just feel exposed and vulnerable. I know it will lead to good conversation down the road. And I hope my faith proves a whole lot more relational and relevant than the three options listed above.

Another "run, get the camera" moment last night: These candles were beautiful and aglow on our table. I particularly love how the wax slid down the candles and dangled precariously off the stand.

Two recent conversations

Conversation #1: While driving in the car with Matt

Me: (emphatically) "That does NOT look like a nice park to take children to!"

Matt: "It's a cemetery!" (laughing hysterically).

I think my point is still valid.


Conversation #2: On a walk with Karis

A few nights ago Karis and I head out to enjoy the evening breeze. We approach a nice elderly gentleman who is slowly making his way down the road using leg braces. Thinking nice thoughts about him and his courage to go for a walk when it is clearly a lot of work, we smile, stop, and introduce ourselves. Stu was his name and he was a friendly guy.

For the most part.

A few minutes into our small talk he looks at me and says, "I don't mean to be a wise guy but I have some stuff that you can put on your face and take care of that problem."

THE NERVE. Right? I am sure my face fell immediately. I felt my demeanor change. I couldn't help it. He hurt my feelings.

He then proceeds to tell me about this "stuff" he's got. When he fought in the Korean war, he and his fellow soldiers would apply this special cream to their wounds. He insists it would work great on my skin "problem." It even worked for a girl down the street, he says.

Ok, Stu. You crossed the line. First of all, your "Korean War cream" scares me. I wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. Second, these aren't life threatening wounds sustained in the heat of battle. Just an ordinary, harmless nuisance.

Well, I've got to give Stu credit for at least perceiving I was put off. He began complimenting Karis on how cute she was. Then he tells me I am beautiful and how my eyes are lovely. Too late, buddy.

So how does Stu end this awkward conversation? He asks for my hand. I awkwardly give it to him not sure if he is going to give me a gentlemanly kiss or shake it. He then proceeds to hold my hand and stare off into space for a VERY LONG TIME. I am not sure if he is trying to remember something, practicing telepathy, or simply passing gas. Either way, I just stand there unsure how this is all going to end.

Finally, he snaps out of his trance and looks at me and says, "You will live a long life...I can feel it."

Yeah.

I think I managed a "thanks" before shoving off in the opposite direction.

A couple days later I pass him in my car. I wave, and I can tell he wants me to stop and talk. I was running late for an appointment and had to keep going. I sort of regret not stopping. Sort of. But, truth be told, I couldn't run the risk of him actually having a vial of his potion rustling around in his pocket that he'd been carrying around in the hopes that he would see me again. I just couldn't risk it.

An uncommon season

If you read my last post, you may have detected a wee bit of a whiney tone in it in regards to fall. Excellent sluething! I grew up in south Florida where the trees/palms have only heard distant rumors of their northern relatives' leaves changing colors. They themselves have never experienced the yearly change. And it's a shame, I say. Due to this childhood deprivation, I now LOVE the seasons and all the changes they bring with it. Now that we live back in Florida and a mere 6 hours north of my childhood home, I am rediscovering a Florida autumn.

I am still gathering data, but I am nearing the conclusion that, just like south Florida, this area doesn't see much in the way of fall. I am reassured by long time locals that cooler temps are to come. (Exhale in relief.) But the word on leaves changing colors: we are just a little too south to get any changes. (Sigh.)

Refusing to believe it and in an effort to boost my morale I went outside to look for some signs of fall, and, to my surprise, I found some..., er, one. Enter exhibit A:
I give you the one piece of evidence in my back yard that I found. And yes, that is a beautiful shade of red with the flecks of green from the summer dying off. It is browning around the edges and is tattered, probably from the recent rains we've been having. I think it is a great example of north tropical fall. Mind you, I had to go searching through the smatterings of brown leaves that simply died off without changing hues.

So how does a lover of autumn cope with such a meager showing? I go looking for the beauty that does exist. As long as I don't expect it to fit into the "autumn" file folder in my mind, I succeed in finding beauty in these parts. Enter exhibits B, C, and D:So as you romp around in your freshly raked piles of scarlet and golden leaves, as you pull that favorite wool sweater over your head, think of me in my flip flops and shorts. Make a cup of chai and enjoy this season.

And when winter rolls around, I'll think of you as I lay on the beach.

Watch out, here she comes

Autumn is making an entrance, slowly but surely, here in north Florida. With it comes change in all the usual, annual ways we are aware of. Much less of those changes are evident in our climate, but that is a topic for another day. What I have noticed changing around here involves a little 20+ pound whirlwind moving around the house, shaking things up. I am sure she has hit a growth spurt in the last few weeks, because the trail of evidence is obvious. She is talking so much, exploring like crazy, and communicating with such conviction on her face.

I am surprised as I move about our business throughout the day and notice all the changes in her development. She is impacting our lives more and more. And this is an active impact. By that I mean at birth and the months following she impacted our world, in a huge way.  Loss of sleep, constant care, and the likes of which many a parent can attest to. But it was a passive impact. She was unintentionally changing our lives, so to speak. Well, that is beginning to change. Oh my, is it ever! She is actively changing her world now! It is such a joy to watch her explore her world and interact with all the people and things around her. So I say, impact away, my little one!

Her little eyes are just the right height to see and reach objects on the edge of the table. Coffee and tea mugs beware: you are hereby banished to the center of the table until further notice!

I went looking for her clothes hamper today to find an odd assortment of objects stashed inside. A pair of my flip flops and four wooden alphabet blocks. An appropriate place to put things, according to a half pint.

Her impact is beginning to be noisy as well. Karis loves the little piano my mom got for her. She woke up one morning to find a miniature version of Daddy's bigger piano, and in just the right size and color. What luck!

My parents visited this weekend, and it was such fun for Karis to spend time with her grandparents. Lots of bonding, kissing, chasing, and snuggling was accomplished this weekend.