Nesting

The cold, dusty box-filled "new basement" (aka storage room)as it has been called since the mid-90s when my mom and dad built it, is our nest. The rat-chewed boxes of my preacher grandpa's commentaries have been discarded and their contents tucked on shelves. The forgotten antiques have seen the light of day are being prepared to be displayed. The 400 lb. capacity Toledo Ohio meat packing scale will be our baby changing table. It's free and we can't buy that type of changing table at Toys R' Us anyway.

So our nesting continues. A bit of paint on this tacky chest of drawers, a brass boat lamp hung on the support post, our basement home is becoming cozy. Next, I'll plant ferns outside our window and sew some matching curtains. Hmmm what next?

introvert

Since I have been sharing the very intimate personal space of my body with another being, albeit tiny, I have been less interested in socializing. A definition of introvert is someone who is rejuvenated through solitary activities and drained by social activities. Talking is harder work than ever before. Why this is, I don't know. Blame it on Baby Thom. Or me being awash with different chemicals in different combinations than ever before.
For some strange reason puttering around our little apartment or in the garden is much more appealing than in the past. Or maybe I just miss the rhythm and seclusion of our little home on the sea. It's simpler that way.

To top all of this off, I have always believed that people's belly's were part of their personal space. So, now my personal space is announcing itself to people in a very obvious fashion. Thereby inviting conversation about it, and PATTING of it. Maybe I should invest in a T-shirt that says, "Do not touch". Or maybe I should try to be less prickly. But, it is my body after all. I guess I could stay home for the next 4 months. That should cure my introversion and the belly patting. It would like when Frances the badger loves jam and so her mother only feeds her jam and toast. Frances starts not liking jam so much. hmmm.

grass of the field

In a crazy time of transition it's good to remember that Jesus said that God clothes the grass of the fields. They do indeed look well-dressed with sparkling raindrops on their heads these days.
Some time in early December something happened that made me start worrying about Brian having no jobs lined up and me having only two small teaching gigs lined up. What were we going to do about all the maternity clothes and baby STUFF we'd have to purchase, and what about this and that other thing we'd have to pay for. Luckily, I didn't follow this train of thought as long as I have in the past. I decided that if Jesus said not to worry, then I wasn't going to try to figure it out on my own, I'd have to actually act as if I believed this person actually meant what he said. So, whenever the urge arose to pine about what we didn't have figured out yet, I told myself, "God knows what we need better than I do."

Christmas Day in Santa Cruz, my best friend showed up with a sack of maternity clothes for me. It almost made me cry. What a waste of time it would have been to have worried all those weeks. Other things have arrived as needed. So, I might not be quite as well-dressed as the green grass with diamonds in my hair, but I know I'm loved and we have all we need for each day.

together

This weekend I've been sitting around a table or the living roome with sister, brother, mom, husband, other sister (in law), aunt, and 2-year old niece. Little N tells me, "Megan, I like you." from time to time in her voice like a red-winged black bird, high, reedy and lilting.
Having N and her baby brother around is like planting a row of snow peas in the garden and then heading off to the farmer's market to buy a bag of the same. I'm getting a taste of things to come. The tears, the late nights, the unexpected sweet questions, the snuggly little bodies, all give me a sample of what is in my future. I don't feel ready.
But Brian is back from Kansas. It's good to be together and remember that he's in this whole new venture with me.

Green is good

Yippee, a new look for a new year. I love this color. Makes me feel as if spring is already here. I'm not the only one that seems to feel that way. This morning, walking up the hill I saw a patch of fragrant narcissus in FULL BLOOM on the ditch side of the road. Not far after that, across from the Perry's old house, the snowdrops were just beginning to tuck their delicate heads above their stems. I'm so glad I don't live in Maine. Spring doesn't start until April there.

Kansas

Rambunctious nephews, a tiny niece, talks with sisters-in-law, walks in sub-freezing weather, tasty meals with relatives, shopping with Erica for maternity clothes at Goodwill's dollar day, and lots of visiting. These things are the highlights of my time in Kansas.

Kristin, Brian's sister, doctored him very well. She removed the cast a few days ago and the stitches came out yesterday. He's still in pain from his support muscles and tight tendons. But, he's not using crutches anymore and looks much better than he did at the airport in New Zealand. The nephews have enjoyed playing with them and swinging around the house in them. Before she left, Kristin wrote out a list of physical therapy exercises and a ten-day prescription for antibiotics to keep away any infections while the wound is still healing. He was in good hands!

This morning we presented a slide show and a talk about our sailing journey at Brian's parents' Sunday School class. This was really special for us because this group of people have prayed for us since before we left California. Many from the group knew Brian as a child who scavenged cookies from their classroom snack table. We are so thankful when we look back on our trip and remember that it was not just our own skill or the equipment on Nomad that took us safely across the Pacific. When people ask, "What was the most dangerous part of our trip?" Brian likes to answer, "we don't know. The most dangerous things are the ones we bypassed without knowing, the things that were averted without our knowledge." Even seeing Brian in the emergency room in New Zealand with a 3" x 3" bloody gap peeled open on his leg made me thankful. That injury or worse could easily have happened while we were under way and I would have been stuck trying to patch him together. We are grateful for the hands of God that cared for us on our trip.

Prayer for the new year

Avinu Malkeinu (Our Father, Our King)

sung during Rosh Ha’Shana (the Jewish New Year) this prayer is a supplication to God to treat us with kindness and generosity, even when we haven’t always lived up to His ideals for us.

English translation:

Hear our prayer
We have sinned before Thee
Have compassion upon us and upon our children
Help us bring an end to pestilence, war, and famine
Cause all hate and oppression to vanish from the earth
Inscribe us for blessing in the Book Of Life
Let the new year be a good year for us



If only we all (world leaders, parents, employers, friends, media, church-goers and non church-goers) would start the year acknowledging our weaknesses and submitting our lives to the compassion of God. We don't really need mandated social programs, they don't change our hearts and eventually don't even change our actions.