How Lent Went

an accidental picture while coloring easter eggs

Some years,  I let the Lenten season slip by without a strong involvement. It seems to me that last year, with a small baby and a church building project, I already felt like I had given up enough things and didn't have it in me to wrestle with anything else.  But this year, the family joined together to experiment with something we had been curious about for a while: we went vegetarian.  We broke our fasts on Sundays as some traditions allow, but for the rest of the time, we explored a new identity for ourselves as non-meat eaters.

Growing up in a rural place where many of the people I knew raised their own meat and gardens as our family did, being vegetarian seems a little nuts.  But living in a suburban place as an adult, and recognizing the problems that unchecked demand for meat presents to the environment and to our own health, it is not such a crazy lifestyle.  We never really got to the point of trying many meat replacements like tofu or veggie burgers as it seemed like there were plenty of combinations of regular food items to try out.  Like many new practices, about a couple of weeks into it, we were sick of it and were counting the days until it was over...which seemed like a long time!  But then, we got used to it and found ourselves just finishing the days without much fuss.  It was cheaper and easier in so many ways.  Trips to the grocery store seemed faster.  I used more convenience foods, to be honest, like bagged salads, and pre-cut veggies, but they were no where near as expensive as meat is.

promising wisteria buds got frozen this year

Growing up as an evangelical fundamentalist Christian, I did not practice Lent. That was something that just Catholics did.  My relationship with "spiritual practice" consisted mainly of "discipline."  That meant trying to "have devotions" every day, squash down any ugly emotions, and use time wisely.  It was almost as if being less human, more machine equalled being more holy.  To be fair, I don't think that anyone really intended to send that message, but it was the one I got, LOUD AND CLEAR.  I think of spiritual practice much differently now.  I'm not trying to become more holy.  I think I am trying to be more human and more alive.

Ironically, the last 40 (plus) days have been disappointing and frustrating. My daily work is changing after many years of being fun and fulfilling.  More than one of our plans fell apart along with the dishwasher....again.  It seemed like the kids were constantly sick, especially Whimsy.  Lent is a season that allows for sadness and mourning.  It's an admission that we go without sometimes. We go without our deepest longings being fulfilled. We go without success or reward even after giving our best.  We go without a plan to get where we would like to be.  With all this going without, what's a little meat?  It's just a tangible thing that we miss, we think about, we look forward to.

We had no big plan for what we would learn from being vegetarian.  But the practice did teach us.

morning snuggle time is one of the best and worst times of the day

1. I learned that I could think of myself differently.... at an identity level, I could be a vegetarian. I wonder how many things we don't do because we think we are "not that person."   Acting our way into an identity is kind of great.... it's how I've become a runner, a mosaic artist, a person with our finances under control, an adoptive parent.   
2. I learned that I could go without and still really enjoy things.  Several times we had meals with friends or dates that normally would have meant indulging in a big meat-centered meal.  Vegetarian fajitas didn't take away from laughing with friends one bit.  Family time was still family time with a mushroom pizza instead of bacon and pepperoni.    
3. I learned that there is no magic wand.  I will never be perfect. So even though we were doing this great experiment with being vegetarian, we still were in a boring slump when all we wanted to do was watch Netflix and be kind of grumpy.  I struggled with hormones and insomnia and total frustration on more than one day.  Triumph with a really good quiche didn't take away the other failures. 

As we reached Holy Week, I both anticipated the end of the Lent and dreaded it.  I have a love-hate relationship with the services at Vintage, starting with Maundy Thursday, where we wash each other's feet. Then Good Friday when we re-hash the story of Jesus dying.  Holy Saturday is the worst.  At home, I am prepping for Easter by cleaning, doing yard work, planning Easter dinner and Easter clothes and Easter baskets and Easter eggs and then I have to stop at my most productive hour and go sit Shiva for Jesus.  It is dark and uncomfortable and annoying ...and it is intimate, precious, and engaging.  It brings our whole selves to Easter. We celebrate our brains out that day because we have actually gone without something. We have lost things. We have sat quietly with our own grief.  

Ironically, Holy Week and spring break were the same.  Poor liturgical pastor's kids.  

"Sorry, gang, we can't go away this week. We have to offer awkward services that are sparsely attended and make people a little uncomfortable! "  (Brushes with the Divine are rarely easy.) 

To make up for it, I asked my friends to show my kids some extra love and attention.  And they did because they are awesome like that.   And even though I was internally tortured (which I usually am) about how much I needed to accomplish, I took some time to spend alone with each of my four amazing children.  I don't know if meant anything to them, but I know that it meant something to me to be able to focus on them, listen to them, find out things about them, and just enjoy them.  I truly loved my time with them, which is something parents always attempt and rarely attain.

So that's how Lent went.  I will post some of my favorite recipes from this soon.  We have already decided to incorporate more vegetarian meals into our ongoing menus, so while I did enjoy a breakfast of ham and eggs wholeheartedly, I am equally looking forward to making another pot of lentil stew very soon.

Driving Home...Eventually.

We were going to head home today but somehow, it seemed better to just put on some socks and stay put.   

The Ghosts of Thanksgivings Past...

Thanksgiving blisses me out.  It makes my husband so happy.  It's the holiday-season kick off. I remember anew that I can cook.  The parade is on.

I started to think about thanksgivings...

The year in Boston ..the first year I made the dinner by myself.  Robb's family came to our first apartment in Foxboro where I clogged the disposal with potato peels.  Mattie was only a few months old and Matt and Karen were still just dating.

The second year in Boston I was about 8 weeks pregnant.  Nauseous. And somehow I was talked into wearing a pilgrim costume at church.  What the heck was that about?  We had Thanksgiving at the Lathams with the Derfelts and confessed that we were leaving to take a new church in Michigan AND that I was pregnant.  It was the least I ever ate on Thanksgiving!

The year we had a tragi-comic Thanksgiving in Virginia with Robb's parents.  We played football in the back yard and my father in law (who we call Poopsie) tripped and hit the fence and cut his forehead open. Or the epic year we ran short of mashed potatoes and a pint-sized Mattie mooched them from her aunts and uncles.

Our first year in the house in Michigan and my parents came.  I had two tiny kids and was (foolishly) determined to have a grown-up meal.  I put the kids to bed early after feeding them and planned a fancy meal for just the grown ups.  The kids refused to go to sleep and we ended up eating our first course soup with kids on our laps. My parents were utterly amused.

The year at the Hollyhock house here in Arkansas.  When Courtney, Ron and Dora came bearing an insane amount of dessert.  And I clogged the disposal with potato peels (are you sensing a theme here?)  The curious plumbing sent water shooting down the walls of the living room from the ceiling. Our hosts were gone and I went screaming around trying to find a ladder yelling "We broke the house! We broke the house!"

The year Mattie was ten and  awash in furious tween disdain.  She single-handedly wrecked the peace and tranquility of the day. Which alerted her to her own personal power and became a turning point for us as parents.  Handy for this year when we have another 10 year old on our hands.

Which takes me back to my own child-hood.  The year we all had chicken pox and the only poultry my mom had in the house was a DUCK.

I love Thanksgiving.  I'm so thankful. For all it. And for all that lies ahead. 

How to Make 3 Halloween Costumes for Less than 20 Dollars

I love making Halloween costumes.  I don't know why.  I just get a kick out of it. But the challenge to me isn't how elaborate I can make a costume, but rather, how can I make them out of the cheapest materials possible. I think I did all right this year:

Behold, the Paper Doll:

We made this from scraps of fabric I had on hand,
a swatch of butcher paper
two sheets of poster board
spray adhesive
hot glue
and bias tape
and a feather from my feather duster

What I like about it:
1. Mattie designed the dress herself
2. It isn't ridiculously sexy for a young girl.

 Look out for the LegoMan:

I made this from an empty cheese ball container (from Sam's)
a foam life belt from the thrift store (99 cents)
the bottom of an oatmeal container
two plastic drink cups
lots of hot glue
Krylon spray paint for plastic
and a circular metal candle holder that I cut in half to make the curved hands.


The only problem with this costume is that he can't use his hands much.  But it turned out pretty cool.


And that brings us to Tinkerbell.

Charleigh always thinks up cool things that she wants to be for Halloween.  The other two labor over it, auditioning ideas for their cool factor ...and I have to shoot some of their ideas down, like when Vin wanted to be Neil from Dead Poet's Society. (Not an easy one to explain at a stranger's front door.)  But Chuck usually just pipes up sometime close to Halloween what she wants, typically low maintenance.   So when I was in the thrift store the other day and a pair of fairy wings brushed my arm on the half-off rack, I was all over it.  The wings turned out to be attached to a very cheap and flimsy green dress or shirt which reeked of BO.   I took it home, took the wings off, soaked it in a vinegar bath and it turned out fine.  At the thrift store, I also found a pair of camo ballerina flats, a big yardage of green felt for a dollar and a little piece of gold lame' for 25 cents.   

I'm not a great seamstress, but I tweaked the dress into a shirt and a pair of pantaloons, and the felt into a tunic, to which I sewed the wings (which worked much better since the felt has more body than the flimsy stuff).  I used a couple of scraps to make rosettes on her shoes and some more scraps for hair-bows.  I also made a little over-skirt with the gold, trying to give her some warmth in layers.  Finally, I bribed her to eat her eggs this morning by telling her she could wear some green eyeshadow.  Done.

And that, my friends, is three cute costumes on the cheap.

Things I Love - Fourth of July

When I was very small, Fourth of July was one of the best holidays ever.  I lived in a small town and we would drive to an even smaller town for a parade. It was the late 1970s and that parade was a classic amalgamation of local school marching bands, red and yellow firetrucks tossing candy off the back, a few classic cars, and my favorite, the grand finale, the spinning Shriner Fez cars. 

Then we folded up our aluminum lawn chairs and headed home to get our potato salad and spend the day at our aunt and uncle's house.  Back then, they had no kids of their own and so one messy day of wet grassy feet and red Kool Aid spills was okay by them.  I had a thousand cousins, more or less, and 14 aunts and 14 uncles plus two Grandparents who drove a wondrous white 1976 Chevy Impala that smelled like Avon perfumes and Old Spice aftershave.

When it finally grew dark, after tossing water balloons and stuffing ourselves on Jello and hotdogs, somebody produced Sparklers for us to light up. Half terrified, half mesmerized, we waved our prickly wands, holding on with sticky fingers until the last spark fell into the grass and we were taken home and tucked into bed, exhausted and blissed out.

Better Late than Never - Happy Holidays!

Oh Christmas Tree

I have a bit of an obsession with Christmas trees.  I guess it's a hangover from selling them for Dad out behind the feed store while I was in high school...standing there in the freezing cold, unbinding the trees, plunking them down hard on the bottom of the trunk, to free the branches and reveal the true shape.  I can usually spot a winner even if it still in twine.  It took two different stores to locate our prize this year. Since moving to this house, I wanted a tree that laughs at the high ceilings.  This nine footer seems to have done the trick.

By an impish set of circumstances, the only time we could all be together to decorate this beast was at 6 a.m. this morning.  Last night, Robb was prepping for a trip this weekend, and the night before that was youth group.  The night before that was a church meeting, and the night before that, we were still celebrating Thanksgiving!  But if we waited another day, Robb was away until Monday and we'd be so late getting around to decorating, when would I ever make the Christmas cookies my neighbor has been raving about all year long? 

And so, at six this morning, the alarm went off and the Christmas music went on.  The lights were already on, so the kids just needed hot chocolate and the green light to start hanging way too many of their favorite heavy ornaments on the same bendy branch.  There was the usual bickering over "MY ORNAMENT!"  but overall, it was rather fun. 

After a nap this afternoon, I was ready to tackle some of the peripheral decor.  Tomorrow promises to be nice and warm, so I will probably be shimmying up the ladder to hang some outdoor pretties.

I feel better equipped to actually celebrate this holiday than I ever have.  All my life, I have heard what you are supposed to feel like about Christmas, but I never really did.  I just played along.  This year, through a combination of things, I am more aware than ever of the things that are wrong with the world, but that heartbreak and longing point me to my faith that someday, The Prince of Peace will come and the fairy tale ending will really happen.   I am approaching Christmas in the rhythm of Advent, and it helps me to connect the same feeling I have for a blessed Sabbath with Christmas.  I've never made that connection before, but this year, it is deep in my consciousness and I feel more excited than I ever have to celebrate, and celebrate well.

Norman Rockwell, Eat Your Heart Out!

Mattie would like to point out that she did not ruin Thanksgiving with pre-teen angst like last year.

 

Like a Little Bit of Christmas Threw Up in Here

I photographed my small collection of vintage Christmas goodies yesterday.  At one point, the entire room was engulfed.  But I looked around at one point and though, "Maybe I'll just keep it...It looks so pretty!"   

It will all be in the store....unless I change my mind.