"I hate my sin, I hate my sin.
I don't hate anything else in the world but my sin.
Strong and powerful
Nothing can destroy my sin,
Nothing can destroy my sin."
Or something to that effect; songbird in the car on the way home from Macbeth the other night. Coincidence? Or too much Calvinism?
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
I never can say what I mean
I love this song by the innocence mission.
Tonight on the town green there was a kid's music concert, a lady named Ann(?) singing lots of folksie and silly songs. Bro wanted to wear his chicken suit, for some reason, so we arrived with picnic blanket and backpack, and Bro a chicken. Suddenly as we walked down the sidewalk, and Bro saw the others gathered on the long, he stopped, stuck out his bottom lip, and began walking backwards. Maybe he was the only chicken? Still not sure what made him feel so sad. He seemed to feel better as the night went on -- he got to play a washboard, and other percussion instruments, and even moved up to the front with the other kids.
And then it was time for Ann to sing her "what do you want to be when you grow up?" song, and she started crowdsourcing the lyrics. "Does anyone know what they wants to be when they grow up?" she asked. "You want to be a what? A what?" She looked to another adult. "I can't understand . . ."
That's when I saw it was Bro. "Come up here and tell me," she said. Bro ran up to within a few feet and shouted something. "A what?" He tried again. "I can't understand him." she said with a befuddled smile, and carried on. Bro turned and started toward us, and seeing me, burst into tears and ran.
After a while, when he could speak again, I asked him what he had tried to tell her. "A good pharaoh," he said. Which was true, of course. He's been dreaming of being a good pharaoh when he grows up for several months now -- it's one of his favorite roles in dress-up with Songbird.
So it's understandable that Ann didn't get it -- she was looking for "policeman" or "fisherman" or "doctor." But it was also this picture of the painful loneliness, the failure to connect, that is so much a part of our sojourn. Haven't we all wept -- perhaps only inside -- when misunderstood?
And to anyone concerned about the future of America or the world, I wouldn't worry too much. In about twenty years the good pharaoh will be ready to take charge.
[posted by Tom]
the innocence mission / brotherhood of man from LAMP on Vimeo.
"I never can say what I mean," Karen Peris sings near the end, "but you will understand."Tonight on the town green there was a kid's music concert, a lady named Ann(?) singing lots of folksie and silly songs. Bro wanted to wear his chicken suit, for some reason, so we arrived with picnic blanket and backpack, and Bro a chicken. Suddenly as we walked down the sidewalk, and Bro saw the others gathered on the long, he stopped, stuck out his bottom lip, and began walking backwards. Maybe he was the only chicken? Still not sure what made him feel so sad. He seemed to feel better as the night went on -- he got to play a washboard, and other percussion instruments, and even moved up to the front with the other kids.
And then it was time for Ann to sing her "what do you want to be when you grow up?" song, and she started crowdsourcing the lyrics. "Does anyone know what they wants to be when they grow up?" she asked. "You want to be a what? A what?" She looked to another adult. "I can't understand . . ."
That's when I saw it was Bro. "Come up here and tell me," she said. Bro ran up to within a few feet and shouted something. "A what?" He tried again. "I can't understand him." she said with a befuddled smile, and carried on. Bro turned and started toward us, and seeing me, burst into tears and ran.
After a while, when he could speak again, I asked him what he had tried to tell her. "A good pharaoh," he said. Which was true, of course. He's been dreaming of being a good pharaoh when he grows up for several months now -- it's one of his favorite roles in dress-up with Songbird.
So it's understandable that Ann didn't get it -- she was looking for "policeman" or "fisherman" or "doctor." But it was also this picture of the painful loneliness, the failure to connect, that is so much a part of our sojourn. Haven't we all wept -- perhaps only inside -- when misunderstood?
And to anyone concerned about the future of America or the world, I wouldn't worry too much. In about twenty years the good pharaoh will be ready to take charge.
[posted by Tom]
I don't want to grow up
Songbird: "I don't ever want to grow up."
Me: "Why not?"
Songbird: "Because grownups have to work all the time, and I just want to play."
Me: "Well there are some things grown ups get to do that are fun."
Songbird: "Like what?"
Me: "Well...(long pause) like taking dates with your husband to buy special coffee drinks."
Songbird: "Oh yeah. When I get married my husband and I are going to go to the coffee shop every day and buy hot chocolate. That's right - George WIlder and I will have a lot of special dates!"
Me: "Oh, are you going to marry George Wilder?"
Songbird: "Yep..." (How else can she be Amelia's sister?)
Me: "Why not?"
Songbird: "Because grownups have to work all the time, and I just want to play."
Me: "Well there are some things grown ups get to do that are fun."
Songbird: "Like what?"
Me: "Well...(long pause) like taking dates with your husband to buy special coffee drinks."
Songbird: "Oh yeah. When I get married my husband and I are going to go to the coffee shop every day and buy hot chocolate. That's right - George WIlder and I will have a lot of special dates!"
Me: "Oh, are you going to marry George Wilder?"
Songbird: "Yep..." (How else can she be Amelia's sister?)
Today's Science Experiment
Today's science experiment was brought to us by Miss Raindrop. While I was carrying the kids lunch to the table, Miss Raindrop was dumping out a bottle of 7th Generation dishwashing detergent on to our colorful wool rug. When I walked back in to the scene, she was smearing the gel all over her body and smiling broadly. After cleaning her up in the sink I tried to decide the best plan of action for cleaning up the rug.
I was reminded of the time I accidentally put hand dishwashing soap into the dishwasher. If you've ever made this mistake, then you can probably picture the mess I'm about to describe. I was in high school (I believe) and my older brother and sister and I were all hanging out near the kitchen when one of us noticed something bubbly. We all ran in to find the floor near the dishwasher covered in suds and bubbles pouring out of the sides of the dishwasher. It was totally hilarious, though definitely a situation needing immediate action and almost all the towels of the house. So, I definitely didn't want to throw this rug in the washing machine, assuming the same results would ensue.
I thought about the bathtub, but I wanted some water with a bit more pressure. So we took it outside and took turns spraying it was the jet stream of our hose nozzle. After at least 15 minutes of spraying and a yard full of bubbles, we decided to call it quits and resume the activity after naptime...
Thank you Miss Raindrop - I can't wait to see what your next experiment is. :)
I was reminded of the time I accidentally put hand dishwashing soap into the dishwasher. If you've ever made this mistake, then you can probably picture the mess I'm about to describe. I was in high school (I believe) and my older brother and sister and I were all hanging out near the kitchen when one of us noticed something bubbly. We all ran in to find the floor near the dishwasher covered in suds and bubbles pouring out of the sides of the dishwasher. It was totally hilarious, though definitely a situation needing immediate action and almost all the towels of the house. So, I definitely didn't want to throw this rug in the washing machine, assuming the same results would ensue.
I thought about the bathtub, but I wanted some water with a bit more pressure. So we took it outside and took turns spraying it was the jet stream of our hose nozzle. After at least 15 minutes of spraying and a yard full of bubbles, we decided to call it quits and resume the activity after naptime...
Thank you Miss Raindrop - I can't wait to see what your next experiment is. :)
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Lake Bomoseen
So thankful for the opportunity to travel to Lake Bomoseen with some old and new friends this past weekend. It was definitely refreshing - both physically and spiritually, and a gift to our family in many ways.
It was also super fun! We rode kayaks, a paddle boat, a motor boat, saw real eagles in the wild (I've only seen them in a zoo) swam in a lake (much warmer than the ocean). The kids played with bows and arrows, went fishing, and the adults even played a little Settlers of Catan :)
It was also super fun! We rode kayaks, a paddle boat, a motor boat, saw real eagles in the wild (I've only seen them in a zoo) swam in a lake (much warmer than the ocean). The kids played with bows and arrows, went fishing, and the adults even played a little Settlers of Catan :)
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Raindrop is 1!
It was a full day - a day of finishing projects and readying the house. A day of endings and beginnings.
It was a Saturday, and as was our tradition we went to breakfast as a family. This Saturday was Big City Bread, and we lingered over egg biscuits, fruit, and lattes while Songbird and Bro colored with chalks. It was the core of Summer, yet if I remember correctly this day was a bit more temperate. After breakfast we headed over to Lowe's to buy some stepping stones to connect the back patio to the playground. Papa had a deep wound on the bottom of his foot from some natural stone we had in place, and I couldn't rest until we had gotten rid of all the pieces and replaced them with a sturdier cement (I was having visions of barefoot little ones and bloody feet). At the store we ran into the Bryants from church and they asked about you. I said not yet, it wasn't time yet.
We got home and had some lunch and then a family work session - digging up old pieces of rock, loosening the dirt and mud, planting the new stones - laying them just so - creating order out of chaos. And when it was all done we stopped and smiled, sitting together on the steps out back.
It was time to make a call to Grandma who had been sick at the hospital. Only a month before we were visiting her in person, swimming at the pool, having a leisurely lunch. Her foot was hurting then, but little did we know... She went to the hospital the day after our visit, and had been there for weeks at this point - in and out of consciousness. But this day, this call, she was fully aware - even able to respond to our questions, singing, stories. And then it was time to go - she was sleepy, and Songbird and Bro needed rest, so we said good-bye...the last time.
After everyone was settled in for naps, your Papa and I settled on the couch - me with a novel and him with his laptop. I was noticing the ebb and flow of my belly hardening and softening over time, so I decided to watch and count more carefully. The light was beautiful - almost magical - coming in the french doors, and then, as if out of the bluest part of the sky, it started raining softly and slowly - ushering in something new.
Later that evening we were at the hospital holding you in our arms, rejoicing over life. Yesterday, exactly one year later, we told the story again over dinner, and remembered that day and that week - saying hello to life, and saying goodbye to life. It is sweet to remember life and death together in this way, and to know that Grandma had a rich 93 years, and that we shared part of it with her. And sweet to welcome you, and bless you with her name.
(Thank you Kaitie Bryant for this photo)
Happy birthday little Raindrop. We adore you!
It was a Saturday, and as was our tradition we went to breakfast as a family. This Saturday was Big City Bread, and we lingered over egg biscuits, fruit, and lattes while Songbird and Bro colored with chalks. It was the core of Summer, yet if I remember correctly this day was a bit more temperate. After breakfast we headed over to Lowe's to buy some stepping stones to connect the back patio to the playground. Papa had a deep wound on the bottom of his foot from some natural stone we had in place, and I couldn't rest until we had gotten rid of all the pieces and replaced them with a sturdier cement (I was having visions of barefoot little ones and bloody feet). At the store we ran into the Bryants from church and they asked about you. I said not yet, it wasn't time yet.
We got home and had some lunch and then a family work session - digging up old pieces of rock, loosening the dirt and mud, planting the new stones - laying them just so - creating order out of chaos. And when it was all done we stopped and smiled, sitting together on the steps out back.
It was time to make a call to Grandma who had been sick at the hospital. Only a month before we were visiting her in person, swimming at the pool, having a leisurely lunch. Her foot was hurting then, but little did we know... She went to the hospital the day after our visit, and had been there for weeks at this point - in and out of consciousness. But this day, this call, she was fully aware - even able to respond to our questions, singing, stories. And then it was time to go - she was sleepy, and Songbird and Bro needed rest, so we said good-bye...the last time.
After everyone was settled in for naps, your Papa and I settled on the couch - me with a novel and him with his laptop. I was noticing the ebb and flow of my belly hardening and softening over time, so I decided to watch and count more carefully. The light was beautiful - almost magical - coming in the french doors, and then, as if out of the bluest part of the sky, it started raining softly and slowly - ushering in something new.
Later that evening we were at the hospital holding you in our arms, rejoicing over life. Yesterday, exactly one year later, we told the story again over dinner, and remembered that day and that week - saying hello to life, and saying goodbye to life. It is sweet to remember life and death together in this way, and to know that Grandma had a rich 93 years, and that we shared part of it with her. And sweet to welcome you, and bless you with her name.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
WIld Maine Blueberries
We found them!
Thanks to the very helpful Matt Klingle (he was also the one who checked out this rental for us), we found our first blueberry barren, just a mile or two from where we live. An unassuming field, thigh-high (or head high, if you're Bro) grass, and down at your feet these little sweet sapphires. Bro and Songbird enjoyed it -- after we went home for bug spray and long sleeves and returned -- though he ate everything he picked (and some he didn't) and she opted for the "countercuisine" of blackberries.
We picked enough for a couple of weeks of blueberry pancakes, anyway.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)