An update and a question

Six days in, February is already sweet. I tweaked my work schedule around a bit last week and something about it finally feels right. Little things can make such a difference. The girls are playing so well together. Almost every morning I wake up to sounds of sisters playing Frozen or playing camping or playing make-mom-breakfast in bed. I fake sip coffee and cereal and it is awesome. George is settling in, sleeping through the night, going to bathroom outside more than on my rugs inside. Have I mentioned he has developed a taste for chicken feces? Yes! But we are enjoying him so much. Cate is especially good with George. She is helpful and kind and packs him around. I love five-year-olds.

I used to watch a lot of football with Telfer when we were childless but now, with the girls and a job it’s not exactly high on my list. But I did sit down and watch the Super Bowl with Telfer. It was so fun! The girls lasted as long as their bowl of potato chips but then played together so we could sit and watch the game. The girls and I may have had a dance party during Bruno Mars. How could you not dance during that show? Telfer read Sam Sifton’s Super Bowl food article (we have a thing for Sam Sifton) and we made the nachos and the clam dip. Not sure what I think about clam dip in general but the nachos were amazing.

This weekend: I have about four hours left of my work week today and then tomorrow, Telfer and I are spending one night at the lake house by ourselves (thank you Maresa). Taylor Shellfish Farms is on the way out to the lake and we are stopping for some mussels. Already looking forward to mussels and bread and wine. And maybe some chocolate. I am reading about fourteen books right now so it will be nice to sit in front of a fire and finish one or two of them.

I realize this is the second David Brooks column that I have linked to lately, but this column last week is worth reading. One quote: “And yet there is a silent majority who experience a faith that is attractively marked by combinations of fervor and doubt, clarity and confusion, empathy and moral demand.” Yes. Telfer sent me the link to the column and I was so thankful so see my rattling, inarticulate, discouraged thoughts expressed so well. Lately, I see such a disconnect between a living faith and the Church (at least with my personal experience). Such a disconnect. Any thoughts?

Thoughts on Anne & Other Bookish Items

Late one night last week, I was vacuuming up a shattered water glass (thank you George), I thought to myself, “This has been a Jonah day.” Absolutely, unequivocally, a Jonah day. If you are acquainted with Jonah days, we are most definitely kindred spirits. The details of my Jonah day are beside the point and now are, with a little distance, almost (almost) funny. But ever since my late-night vacuuming, I have been thinking about the Anne books by L.M. Montgomery. It’s no secret that I love them. Cate’s middle name is Cordelia. I married a dark-haired medicine-bound student (hello, Gilbert fantasies come true).

For a certain girl, Anne sinks in deeply. Many of my ideas about the world, about the possibilities of friendship, how to pay attention to beauty and the natural world, even down to my love of walking, are directly because I read and breathed and lived Anne throughout my childhood. I was in the second grade when the movie with Megan Follows aired on PBS. I remember watching with my mom and realizing there was a book about Anne. I can remember starting Anne of Green Gables curled up under a table at the very small, very narrow Christian school that I attended in Umatilla. The magic is still there as an adult. I reread the Anne and Emily books every couple of years of out deep devotion and unabashed nostalgia. Of course I see the flaws, the purple prose, the romanticism, but I will always credit Anne with fashioning me into a reader, for teaching me about the possibilities of life.

This week, after thinking about Anne, I started looking around online for kindred spirits and I found this article published in The Los Angeles Times Book Review last summer that absolutely delighted me. A quote: “When I talk about loving Anne with dear friends who also love Anne, we are not advocating particular novels so much as we are describing loving words, loving the past, loving names…loving, most of all, the ability to find a sense of place. What we are saying is that Anne was our wardrobe, our tornado — our portal to the capacity within ourselves to make the mundane world magical.” Yes.

Other bookish news:

I just finished Longbourn by Jo Baker and I am telling you: I loved it. This could be such a terrible novel – Pride and Prejudice from the viewpoint of the servants? Sounds like a Downton Abbey rip-off but Baker is a lovely writer and P&P feels enriched rather than cheapened by this story.

Currently reading: The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt and My Life in Middlemarch by Rebecca Mead. An embarrassment of riches.

Scenes from the week

Well, more like scenes from the last ten days. Oh boy, I am here to tell you that puppies do not kid around. Finally though, I feel like we are settling into somewhat of a groove even though our new groove involves a lot of high-pitched barking and crying. The girls had to shout their highs and lows across the dinner table last night as George was not happy at all about being in his crate during dinner.

Telfer went to Dallas for a work conference for four days and for the first time ever, the girls were not my biggest challenge. They were sweet and kind and fun to be with. All three of us breathed a sigh of relief when we got into the car and went to see Frozen again in the theater. It was so nice to be dogless!

I realize I have made this bed but between the pooping (both dogs) and the barking and the nonsense, it was a very long four days. Let’s just say that I woke up several times to George chewing on my hair and I have also gone through a whole can of carpet cleaner. Crisis does have a way of providing clarity and I realized two things: George needs to be crate-trained and Henry needs a walk every day, no excuses. And now, three days in, everything has calmed down. Today I am working from home for half the day and after a nap in his crate, George is playing in my room with toys.

Of note: Telfer and I went snowshoeing at Mr. Rainier last week. It was such a beautiful, clear day. I love to snowshoe. When the girls are older, I am going to join a snowshoeing club and go on group outings. Generally, I dislike groups and group activities but I think showshoeing could be an exception. And yoga. But that’s it!

Also, I made madeleine’s last week for a play date and they were quite good. The girls and I even had them for breakfast the next morning. This time I only made a half batch of the the Martha Stewart recipe. I made the maple glaze but I didn’t add any maple syrup to the actual cookie. Sweet but definitely not too sweet.

Four Books

January has never been my favorite month of the year but reading these four books have made the month not only bearable but contemplative and thoughtful.

A Circle of Quiet: The Crosswicks Journals – Book 1. Madeleine L’Engle. Lovely, meandering thoughts on faith and life, feels fresh although published in 1972. Quote: “Love is not an emotion. It is a policy.”

Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table. Shauna Niequist. Thank you Sherry for recommendation. Personal essays with corresponding recipes. Quote: “What happens around the table doesn’t matter to a lot of people. But it matters more and more to me. Life at the table is life at its best to me, and the spiritual significance of what and how we eat, and with whom and where, is new and profound to me every day. I believe God is here among us, present and working. I believe all of life is shot throgh with God’s presence, and that part of the gift of walking with him is seeing his fingerprints in all sorts of unexpected ways.”

Still Writing: The Pleasures and Perils of a Creative Life. Dani Shapiro. I find that these writing advice books are really the best life advice books. I am always so grateful for the author’s vulnerability. Thoughtful and inspiring. Quote: “We are revealed to ourselves—just as our characters are revealed to us—through our daily actions. When making my son’s breakfast, I try to focus simply on cracking the eggs, melting the butter, toasting the bread. It doesn’t get more ele­mental than that. As I drive down country roads taking Jacob to school, I remind myself to focus on the way the sunlight plays on the surface of a pond, the silhouettes of cows in a field. I’ve learned that it isn’t so easy to witness what is actually happening. The eggs, the cows. But my days are made up of these moments. If I dismiss the ordinary—waiting for the special, the extreme, the extraordinary to happen—I may just miss my life.”

The Signature of All Things. Elizabeth Gilbert. Who knew a 19th century botany novel could be this much fun? Loved the sentences, the big, comforting length, and the warmth the author has for her characters.

Also, Telfer sent me this David Brooks column today and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s about a family who goes through one daughter’s death at 27 and another daughter’s debilitating bicycle accident a few years later. Suffering led them to share “about how those of us outside the zone of trauma might better communicate with those inside the zone.” A “ministry of presence.” What a beautiful phrase. Please read.

George Peyton Griffith

We picked George up on Friday afternoon and we are all settling in together. Cate is so sweet and committed to George while Jane likes the idea rather than the reality of having a puppy. Henry is adjusting and the dogs had a sweet play session this morning. At the unfortunate hour of 6:15 AM. What can you do? George likes to nap and cuddle and dislikes being left alone for any reason. We are all smitten. Yesterday afternoon, the dogs, chickens and girls were outside in the backyard and it was like I was in the middle of a zoo. In a good way.