A Road Less Travelled

Some random thoughts from my latest trip to Erie-

My sisters can cook! For Thanksgiving we had a big family brunch at Adiel’s house. There was an enormous amount of really, really tasty food. There was this blueberry French toast casserole thing and then a fruit and yogurt trifle plus muffins, quiche, breads, sausages, spice cake and something more I’m sure. Mmm, it was good. Elizabeth made us lasagna with sausage, lots of cheese and more sausage. Actually, she made it about a week before we showed up and froze it so I had to watch it defrost before we could put it in the oven and then I had to smell it bake for over an hour. Mmmm, lasagna.

We had two Thanksgivings feasts in one day. There was the family brunch and then Elizabeth put on a traditional turkey meal Thursday evening. And even though I was confronted with two prime opportunities to overindulge I only ate until I was full. Both times. It was a beautiful thing. I could enjoy the post meal chatting and cleanup without feeling horrible. That was really nice.

Tom and Elizabeth were very careful to warn us that they have a cold house. They have an old, drafty house, they said, and it would probably be cold. So we were careful to pack warm clothes and were all prepared to be a little bit cold. Compared to our house their house is positively tropical. I was all prepared to be cold and I woke up overheating more than once.

Faith Reformed Church, of which my father is the pastor, is very quiet. I was sure Isaac was yelling his questions, but it turns out that everyone else was just being very quiet. Right before worship started it was almost silent. And then someone from our row would cough or wiggle or shout something incomprehensible. You could almost hear the silence crack and fall to the floor.

I have recently discovered that my family is not very, how shall I say, delicate in terms of what we think is appropriate to converse about in polite company. I’ve noticed this before, but just having more of us around made it painfully obvious. We had an entire conversation about bathroom euphemisms. And if you think about it bathroom in itself is a euphemism. You say ” I’m going to the bathroom”, but you make no mention of what you plan on doing in there. I mean, you could be going to change a light bulb for all we know. This conversation led to a new euphemism for the remainder of the trip. “Excuse me, I have to go change a light bulb.”

Finally, I realized that I like my family. We’re sinful and faulty and we’ve all got our issues, but I like us. I like us when we get together and just enjoy being around each other. We talk loudly and we laugh louder. We go to the beach and throw rocks at the waves simply because it’s fun. Seth pushes the children on the merry-go-round and then we eat pizza and laugh some more. It’s beautiful and I love it.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope yours was as pleasant and crazy as mine.

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I have started this post three times now. I seem to be having trouble figuring out what I want to say. I want to say something about how I was glad to be gone and I was glad to come back. I want to say something about how things at home look fresh now that I’ve been gone for a time. But mostly I want to talk about how I forgot where my plant was.

Yesterday I realized I should probably water my plant. But then I couldn’t find it. My room is not that big and I had somehow lost a three foot high palm tree. I spun in place and searched, but the plant was no where to be found. I finally found Nigel right where I had left him, but I realized that I was so used to seeing him there I was looking right over him. I went into my room to get my space heater for the children and I couldn’t find it. Turns out I had been stepping around it and looking around it for so long that I couldn’t stop when I wanted to find it. This is what it felt like to be gone.

There are so many things assume. Being away from them, but still assuming them made me realize what wasn’t where I thought it was. We ran out of something early last week and Crystal’s first thought was “Maybe the Lansberry’s have some.” Then she laughed at herself because they don’t have Lansberrys in Erie. They are Lansberry-less. At first I wasn’t sure I could function Lansberry-less, but with a little practice I found I did just fine. But I missed them. They are such a part of my life it felt odd to be without them. I tend to overlook how special it is that they live down the street because them being down the street has become part of the landscape. Being away for a time brought them into focus and made me appreciate them.

On Tuesday my sisters took me out for an early birthday celebration. We went to Grasshoppers, a hippy boutique, and then we were going to get some refreshment of some kind. My first thought was “We could go to One World.” But alas, they have no One World in Erie. Now, I’m not trying to equate our dear friends the Lansberrys who have stood with us through thick and thin with a nifty restaurant much as I do enjoy One World. Those were just the two things that came to mind that I would reach for and be surprised when I realized they weren’t there.

So, I’m glad I was gone for a time. And I’m glad I’m back. And I’m glad I found my plant; he really needed some water.

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Gabrielle and I collect brothers. Call it a knack, a habit, or just an unusual providence, but it seems to be the case for both of us. Specifically, we seemed to collect older brothers–until we joined Providence. Suddenly we were confronted with a slightly unexpected new species: younger brothers. It might have applied to several people, but specifically Colton and Samuel E. were in that perfect age range of old enough for intelligent conversation–indeed, I’m quite sure they often have to bring their conversation on subjects such as military history and weapons down to the level where I can understand it–and young enough to be safe to talk to. (I don’t have to explain that any further, do I?)

We agreed that we rather liked this whole little brother thing. Indeed, with their uncanny ability to turn up whenever a crockpot needed to be carried and their reliable determination that girls were not fair targets in whatever game happened to be going on, I mentally noted that I was getting rather spoiled having them around. It was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek. Then we found out they were moving away, and I started to wonder if it was more true than I’d thought.

I mused along the changes there would be. No one was going to care anymore if I played ultimate frisbee–I mean really, who else would track down one of the worst players and insist that she should play? Jacob was just getting to the age where he would join our conversations, and I wanted to watch it happen. Gabrielle and I would once again be the only ones who would notice the world-altering reversal if I happened to wear a brighter color than she did. It seemed like dumb stuff I really shouldn’t care about. And then I realized, being a little slow as I usually am about these things, that somewhere along the line they’d moved from just ‘little’ brothers to friends, and I hadn’t noticed when it happened.

And the rest of the family, of course: The one of my elders that I was pretty sure had an idea how freaky odd I really am (and no, hadn’t started avoiding me yet). I also hold to the personal opinion that everyone should have an elder who reccommends the Terminator style of pumping a shotgun. Kim, who just understands. I should have better words than that, but that’s all I can come up with right now: whatever it is, she understands. And Gracie, and Levi, and Jedidiah… And Faith who wrinkles up her nose and says, “I don’t like it.” in this growling monotone. Seriously, you have no idea how cute this is until you’ve heard her do it. And walking into church on Sunday and seeing them all sitting there in a row in the back…

People keep saying things like, “God’s calling them someplace else” and though I intellectually assent, it’s just a phrase. This is what I can wrap my mind around: They’re being transferred to a different unit and redeployed at another base of operations, and while we hold down the fort here, they’re needed to go conquer ground somewhere else. And somehow that helps, even as I’m sitting here crying because it still hurts like Tennessee really is the ends of the earth. Because even though I don’t understand the military strategy I know our King’s strategy always works, so maybe this brings us one step closer to victory. And that brings us one step closer to Heaven. And Heaven is where you never have to say goodbye again.

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 I bought a camera case today. Specifically, according to the package it was digital camera case. Apparently it makes a difference. The package also proclaimed that it “holds all digital cameras small enough to fit”. Taking them at their word I purchased the case.

It wasn’t until I got at home that I noticed the inscription, “Unit automatically becomes portable when carried”. Um, yeah. Did I mention I was really worried about that? I mean, how many times have you bought a digital camera case only to realize that carrying it around did not make it portable? And don’t you feel silly lugging around a non-portable camera case at special occasions?

“Well, what have you got there Bob? Didn’t you know that camera case isn’t portable? Hey everyone, did you see Bob? He’s got one of the camera cases that isn’t portable! And he carried to the party anyway! (Bless his heart!)”

I, however, will sleep soundly tonight, secure in the knowledge that my new camera case becomes fully portable when carried. No embarrassing party moments for me. No siree! Wait, what was that? I spilled dip on my shirt? Oh, bother. If you’ll just excuse me a moment while I find a napkin…

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So, yesterday we went out shooting. One last post-Thanksgiving shoot at this family’s house before they move to Tennessee. Unfortunately I neglected to double-check that I had my camera, so I didn’t get any pictures, but there are a few here.

After the shooting was winding down I commented on the pretty Christmas colors of the spent shotgun shells on the ground. The idea was batted around a bit, and someone pointed out that it wouldn’t be that hard to poke holes in them to string a wire through. Hm…

I decided I bring a few home to experiment with, and the end result was this–

Not too bad, I think. Afterwards I did a google search to see what other people had done with shotgun shells as Christmas ornaments. I mean, surely this has been done before! Sadly, it seems that beyond strings of shotgun shell Christmas lights, the only shotgun shell Christmas ornaments are these. Don’t you think mine are much prettier?

I did however find a lovely song called Shotgun Shells on the Christmas Tree. I will admit to being slightly tempted to buy the album. I mean, really, what else would you expect from a girl from Possum Kingdom?

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Well, Folks, this is the end of this year’s Thankfulness posts. Today I am thankful for highways and vans that can take us from Peoria to Erie in about thirteen hours. And I am working very hard to be thankful for my family who apparently live in the dark ages and haven’t figured out that wireless Internet is a fantastic idea for when family members visit who have laptops.

So, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I know it’s early, but this way I make sure I actually say it. I hope your Thanksgivings will be joyful, pleasant and, above everything else, full of thanks for all we’ve been given from our Father. We deserve so much pain and judgment and instead He lays out the white tablecloth and sets the table with fine china just for us. I thank You, Lord, for this season of remembrance and thanksgiving. May we stay aware and thankful of all the wonders You have given us and may we take Your love and reflect it out to the world that hurts so bad. Amen.

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Today I am thankful for my nieces and nephew who live in Erie. My sister Adiel once asked me, as only Adiel can, if I loved Seth and Crystal’s children more than hers. My answer was that oh, so unsatisfactory answer that I loved them differently. The answer doesn’t always satisfy, but it’s true. With Seth and Crystal’s children I get to be a normal part of their lives. I’ve seen their first steps, their first reading attempt, their first climbing up the wall attempt, even in some cases their first breath. They are so used to me now that they think it would be odd if I didn’t live with them and Arianna has even cried at the prospect of me getting married and moving out. I belong here and to them in a way that can’t be said of any other children.

But I don’t get to be the fun aunt to these children. I have to be here everyday and my presence holds no special excitement. I have to speak sternly, take away privileges, mediate and judge between them and make sure they eat healthily. I try to be fun, but it’s a day-in day-out sort of fun.

When I go to Erie I get to be a fun aunt. I come into town with presents in my suitcase and no disciplinary responsibility. I can come to visit and be a special treat. When I talk on the phone with my nieces who can talk and my nephew it’s a treat, a joy. We tend to talk about more than just the message I need to leave for Crystal. And I love it. Li ly jabbers about the giraffes she saw at the zoo weeks ago, Olympia answers my questions in monosyllables and Malachi in only mostly comprehensible. It’s great. I’m looking forward to when they all get a little older and when I come to visit I can take them out somewhere. I imagine a lunch with Olympia and Lily and then further down the road with Evangeline too and it looks like so much fun. I want them to come visit me sometime and I’d take Malachi to a Classical concert down at Bradley. That’s the aunt I always wanted to be and am so thankful I can be sometimes.

So the answer holds. I love them differently and am happy to be their aunt in different ways. I don’t want to change my relationship with either set of nieces and nephews. And I am so thankful I have the chance to be an in-house aunt and a long distance aunt at the same time.

Arianna, Isaac, Samuel, Olympia, Lily, Noah, Malachi, Justice and Evangeline, I am so glad to be your aunt. I love you each and I love you all. I pray for you all, that you would walk the narrow path lying at your feet. It will be really hard sometimes, but it is more worth it than I can tell you. When the times come that you feel overwhelmed and lonely remember that your Titi Gaby loves you and is praying for you. I can’t wait to see what God makes of you all as you grow and change. Happy Thanksgiving, guys. May God be with you all your days and give you joy, peace, strength and wisdom. May you walk with Him all your lives and shine like stars in sky. Amen.

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Today I am thankful for the children I live with. They make life full. Crazy full, messy full, but mostly beautiful. There is always someone excited about something. Arianna has a nifty movie quote she wants me to enjoy. Isaac just bought some crazy new toy he wants me to admire. Samuel has some coin trick he learned from someone. Noah has a toy quiz for me to do, his questions sliding from perfectly clear to mumbling. Justice just learned a new skill and is beside himself with excitement. There are the precious moments when one child asks me a question, listens to the answer and then I hear him telling another child what we’d talked about. I am thankful for the weird foods these children love, the funny things they care about, the way they want me around. For bedtime hugs and kisses, for tucking in rituals, for bedtime games where I have to chase someone for a hug and slip a kiss into his room when he’s not looking. For the times the children crawl on me while I’m reading, for the times they’ve been good and left me alone. For all these things and so much more I am thankful.

To my Father, the Giver of life and Creator of laughter,
I offer You praise and thanks for the children You have gifted me.
They aren’t mine, but they are.
I thank You for these children who have made me grow up and who have kept me young.
And I pray that You would pour out even more grace on me
So that I can serve and love them better.
I pray that You would guard my lips
That what I say to these young ones will be full of Your love.
I pray that You would guard my hands
That what I do will always be for their best.
I pray that You would guard our house
That they may be safe while they are still little and can’t defend themselves.
I pray all these things through Your Son,
Amen.

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Oh, fine I guess I’m thankful too. Humph.

I’m thankful for blankets. One might attribute my thankfulness for blankets to the growing chill (some might even say cold) in the air. But the fact is, I love blankets, and one of the things I greatly dislike about summer is that it’s too hot to use them. Perhaps it’s a bit of hiding-under-the-covers left in me, because I just don’t feel safe without a blanket. Everyone knows that a blanket is an impenetrable shield, and without one you’re a sitting duck in the darkness. Which makes me have to wonder, do ducks sit in the dark? Do they roost like chickens? Huh.

(Warning: this post gets a bit long and rambly at this point. If you really don’t care that much, this is probably the place to stop.)

Anyway, life just isn’t as warm and cozy without a blanket or five to curl up under, and coincidentally I do have five. But these are not just five random blankets. No, that would be far too normal. I have five very specific blankets.

The bottom blanket is a slightly fuzzy blue and white rose print that I bought because it reminded me of a scene in the book that Gabrielle and I wrote for Seth’s birthday one year. This was a freaky odd book, with us as the main characters, and involving traipsing around in people’s dreams. In this particular scene we’d ended up in my dream house, and we described in detail the books lining the walls, the big fuzzy pillows, and the cozy conversational arrangement of the room. As soon as I saw the blanket at a bag sale I knew it went in that room. So of course I bought it. I mean, wouldn’t you buy a blanket that belonged in a dream room in a story you once wrote?

Then comes the blanket Gabrielle put together for me out of random squares that I’d knit or crocheted and then lost interest in but saved because I could probably turn them into a blanket if only I didn’t hate joining squares so much. After that comes the blanket that Gabrielle made for me from scratch for Christmas one year. (Does anyone else see a theme here?)

Next is the red/blue/cream plaid blanket that I bought because it looks almost exactly like a blanket that we had when I was growing up, except bigger. Also less scratchy. Come to think of it, I was never that fond of the blanket when I was growing up, but as soon as I saw it at the thrift store I thought, “Oh, this is just like that blanket we used to have! I want it! How much is it?” Isn’t life odd that way?

Last is the blanket that some friends of the family gave me either for a graduation present, or a Christmas present the year I graduated. It’s purple fuzzy blanket the perfect size for curling up in and not too bulky for transporting. It has a small tear because we used it to wrap a sewing machine when we were going on a trip so we could hem napkins for someone’s baptismal feast while we were gone, but it’s still quite useful.

The only drawback to these memory laden blankets is that they are all a tad too small for the bed. This means careful arrangement is necessary to keep my feet from sticking out all night. Other than that, they’re  perfect. Sadly, the size issue probably means that someday I will have to replace my lovely blankets with ‘real’ blankets. Boring blankets. Perhaps even *gasp* store-bought blankets. However, until that day, I am very thankful for my blankets.

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I added this to the links in the sidebar (Did I mention that to you Gabrielle? Um, by the way, I added another link to our blog. Just thought you should know…) but I thought it was worth pointing out in a post too. My father has a new blog for Christian martial artists, or more specifically, Christian martialists. What’s the difference, you say? I’m so glad you asked: see here for the answer.

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