I'm not even sure where to start....and so I fear I must treat you to a stream of "conscious-Ness"...
It is good to have my kids back from Virginia. I do not say easier, quieter, or more sane to have my children back, but I do say unequivocally GOOD to have them back. While they were gone,
besides acting like honeymooners, we did manage to do some mental organizing...you know, changes we'd like to make to our lifestyle and goals and dreams for the future. This is something I think we are kind of good at...making goals and often achieving them....we did that about 7 years ago and reached all of thee goals except Robb getting a Ph.D. He planted a church instead.
Anyway...we watched very little t.v. and I got some books from the library that are fully holding my attention. I go through fits and starts with reading...it's been a pretty long dry-spell since I really loved a book. Lately, though, I've gotten a hold of a couple that will be real direction changers.
For example, as part of our God is Green campaign (series) at VF, I picked up Barbara Kingsolver's
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. This book deserves it's own post, so I'll try to contain myself, but just so you know, the wheels in my head are turning.
Before we ran out of alone time, we made not one, but TWO trips to Eureka Springs to goof off and be silly. I got it into my head that I wanted to take the Ghost Tour of the Crescent Hotel. We had taken the Williamsburg Lantern Ghost Tour years ago and had so much fun, I hoped this would be too.
This tour made me uncomfortable. I kept expecting my mother to pop around the corner and scold me for dabbling in spiritualism. If our "ter guide" (as he called himself) had stuck to the ghoulish stories of the hotel, it would have been plenty fun. But since our "ter guide" started the "ter" with an explanation of aura's, disembodied spirits and a scolding for anyone putting out bad energy, I found myself kind of hoping to actually see a ghost so I wouldn't feel so guilty for wasting my husband's hard earned money. On the truly positive side, we did get to go down into the bowels of the old building, which is one of my favorite things to do. Again....so much more to post...
Before we started out to Nashville to meet Robb's parents, I got a call from the Heartwood Art Gallery. I took in several of my mosaic pieces...including the Dresden Plate Quilt Mirror...for their consideration. Originally, I was told it would take about a week to make a decision. Then I heard 6 weeks. Hopefully, it is somewhere closer to the former. The good news is that they called to say that several customers had inquired about my work and wanted to know what my prices were. I can only hope that this customer-driven interest will translate into earning a booth to display my wares.
We opted to take a different route home from Little Rock on Saturday, having made the same drive three times in 7 days already. We were delighted with this somewhat longer, but much more picturesque trek.
As soon as we arrived home, a monster storm arrived. I had just finished setting our dinner out on the table when the lights went out. We finished our corn on the cob, baked potatoes and nasturtium and lettuce salad (from our very own back yard) by candlelight. The power was good enough to remain out for several more hours, allowing us to put the kiddies to bed, and have a nice read with a glass of wine before drifting off to sleep feeling very content indeed.
Yesterday was one of the nights we made a meal for our friends at South Church, a ministry to the poor and homeless run by my dear friend, H's parents. I had to miss serving the last meal, which may have fueled my absolutely insane attempt to make lemon meringue, peanut butter, and butterscotch pies entirely from scratch and still make it to the church on time. The short story is that the pies did not set up, I was late, and I also sent a giant pan of baked beans careening about in my mini-van. Literally, I spilled the beans. However, the folks were indeed fed despite my left-handed attempts, and largely because the rest of our church are wonderful, generous and hard working people.
Robb and I awoke in the night to a loud crashing thump, the cause of which we still have no idea about (I'm pretty sure I was thinking GHOSTS!). Robb went to investigate only to find that Sid had voiced her total disgust at all of us for all the leaving her outside over-night and bringing the children back just when she had all the attention to herself....in her own very loud canine voice: that would be poop and pee in my studio. This defies logic, really....they say dogs prefer absorbent locations to do their business. Not so with our dumb dog, Sidney. She invariable opts for tile. It was three a.m. and there we were cleaning up. After washing up, we jumped back into bed, and turned on the tv where we landed upon, I do not kid you, Big Joe's Polka Show...featuring an enormously rotund man dressed in a sparkly pink shirt with see-through sleeves, narrating for a polka band playing for dozens of elderly folks dancing the polka like it is going out of style. We amused ourselves for a few minutes, applying all the church-related complaints we could recall to the swirling, sometimes costumed couples....
"Oh, if only the young people would get involved."
"We're missing a couple of generations"
"I don't know why the college kids don't take it seriously."
"Why don't girls wear dresses like that anymore?"
And then we giggled and fell asleep. And Monday morning dawned, where I made
baked oatmeal with home-made whipped cream and a few frozen blueberries from my picking last week. I checked on my garden in my bare feet (don't worry, all the dog-poop was inside). And I confirmed my "friendships" on Facebook.
So now you know...
