Grand Canyon Photos by the Hams

I’m having that strange sensation of simultaneous acceleration and deceleration as we come back from vacation for one week of school.  It’s a little bit like the flutter I felt each time one of the children got too close to the edge at the Grand Canyon.

Our schooling muscles atrophied a bit while we were gone.  We didn’t even crack our nature notebooks or the desert books I dragged 1800 miles with us.  (My continuing failure to be a consistent example in my own nature notebook is a great disappointment to me.)  We walked a lot; we listened to 24 hours of books on CD.  I’m going to count all that as school, knowing that this week while we’re “back at it” the school kids in our neighborhood are working hard at field day and returning textbooks and wiping down their desks.

But last night was the piano recital, and tomorrow is the play, next week is SweetP’s dance recital (and dress rehearsal, etc.) and we have 3 different sets of houseguests coming in 3 weeks (hooray!).

So you’ll excuse me if I accidentally hit the brakes when I’m supposed to be speeding up.

Vacation

Vacation. I read something recently about the importance of distinguishing between a vacation with one’s spouse and a family vacation. (If you read this too, please send me the source so I can attribute it correctly.) The basic idea was to have clear expectations. Don’t go on a family vacation and expect to have dinner out with your spouse and hours to disengage.

So here we are on vacation. We’ve done a fair amount of divide-and-conquer. I fell asleep; Sam took everyone to the pool. He went for a run; when he got back, I took mine. When several children were DONE with the hike, and one wanted to go on, he took the dissenters back, and I went on with J. Today, he gave me an appointment at the spa for a massage, and he took the kids to the pool.

But there’s a fair amount of togetherness too: several days in the car (such an American phenomenon) while children ask “Are we there yet?”, watching Madagascar 3 together on the couch; meals and walks and an expedition to the grocery store to buy SweetP’s baptism anniversary cupcakes. (The rest of us were enticed by the cream puffs and chocolate squares, but I always make cupcakes, so she was determined to have cupcakes and, in the end, chose the buttercream-frosted cupcakes with “I love you, Mom” emblazoned on the top.)

Folks tell me that in a year or two, the children will be ready to stay for a few hours without us, and we will actually get out for a nice dinner together. For the present we are reconciled to hikes with whiners and snuggles in the morning.

Daybook: Vacation

I am hearing: the dishwasher, the washing machine, and children giggling as they watch some  cartoon in the other room.  I check in periodically, just to make sure they’re all still breathing and that they didn’t find something completely terrible to watch, but mostly I’m letting them be. A lot.

Grateful: for a run this morning (not up a mesa), that Sam is getting some him-time this morning, Brisa’s baby, blooming cactus, Jordan’s amazing response in welcoming refugees from both Iraq and Syria (not to mention years of Palestinians), Mandy’s mile the other day (and one to come), my mom, our church.

Thinking about: Galatians.  ”Refugee fatigue.”  (Apparently this is not the fatigue of the actual refugees, living displaced lives with bad water, danger and cardboard shelters.  Refugee fatigue is instead what happens to  those not-displaced-peoples who are sick of hearing about it.)

What I’m reading: Brighty of the Grand Canyon (aloud, to the children), A Red Herring Without Mustard, Mrs. Hunter’s Happy Death (almost finished), Arabella.  How’s that for a mix of titles?

Out my window:

On the needles: SweetP’s green Tea Leaves sweater came off (and she has worn it every day without being blocked) and my Mother’s Surfer Tee went on. I am in that stage of fear that it will never fit, and that despite my gauge (done in 3 different needle sizes) it’s going to be terribly small. Of course, that’s how I end up with everything 3 sizes too big. But that’s where I am. The yarn is Knit Pick’s City Tweed DK, which is delicious in my hands.

Praying for: our house to sell, Lala’s family, Mandy, refugees from Syria and Burma and those who minister to them, Jen & family, Becky and Justine.

Sedona Run

I took an awesome run the other morning.

I headed toward town from the condo and turned up toward the airport, not realizing that this was the red stripe cut diagonally from town to the top of the plateau. Once I figured out what I was in for, it was only one mile further to the scenic overlook, and I was determined.

The road was narrow, and probably I shouldn’t have been running on it. There was a notice to bikers to stay with traffic, so I figured that drivers were accustomed to passing with care. I still stepped off when a car came by and got several friendly waves (and no fingers) in response. That steep mile—interrupted as it was—took me 14 minutes, but I made it and felt appropriately sweaty and triumphant at the top as I took photos alongside well-coifed tourists who had arrived in their air-conditioned cars.

The view on the way down was even better, and my time would have been significantly better if I didn’t keep stopping to take photos. Today my obliques are killing me, but in a good way.

The best part may have been Sam’s look when I pointed out the road, and his incredulous, “That was where you ran?”

 

this moment

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Daybook: Early May

I’m hearing: child-sponsored Olympics for stuffed animals.  It sounds like a cross between the Westminster dog show and the Daytona 500, and the judging and scoring is as corrupted as Olympic Ping-Pong.

Out my window: my neighbor’s aspens trees are dripping with pollen.  Maybe that’s why Sam and the children can’t breathe?  The plum tree has leaves unfolding, and the tulips are a riot of color.  I love spring.

In the school room: I can hardly believe how close we are to finishing.  Everyone has exceeded our math goals (though we never stop doing math around here). Our writing curriculum as two more weeks.  Latin and Spanish continue, and I’m hearing progress.  We finished our history spine and have been reading biographies since.  Last week was Eli Whitney. This week is Napoleon.

In the kitchen: nothing much.  We’re trying to keep it clean.  Clean kitchen = bad digestion. On the upside, look at the shine on my kettle!

On my mind: all the endless circles of what if.  Which are pointless really and make me as dizzy as riding on a Ferris wheel.  But I persist in going there.  A lot of you have asked where we’re planning to move.  Back into the city (Denver), for a variety of reasons.  Even if it all works out, we don’t foresee changes in home schooling, jobs, or church.

Grateful: for a good meeting at church Sunday about children’s ministries.  For an outing to Mary Poppins (fantastic!) and a restaurant with a balloon-artist entertainer.  He gave us a Phoenix, a fire-breathing dragon, My Little Pony, clotted veins (for me!), a hat (for Sam), and a T. Rex skeleton.  He was really amazing.

For a great time at the art museum this weekend with Sam’s cousin Lisa.  The Denver Art Museum has such great kid-interactive exhibits (there’s really something in every gallery.)  This trip’s new finds included an iPad (with our friend’s picture on it!) in the portrait gallery and puppets.

Praying for: healing for a friend from church who had a serious accident and for his wife as she ministers alone to four small children and a hurting husband; for Jerusha; for Mandy; for peace in Burma and Syria; for famine in Africa; for Becky and Jen and Justine; for Mandy.  For peace in our home.  That God would tame my tongue.

The Black Bus

Do your children have a gabillion stuffed animals?  Mine do.  And they love them.  Our animals have personalities, feuds (the dragons really resent the giant anteater for reasons that are unclear to me) and preferences.  They travel with us, vying jealously for the few available spots in backpacks.

Have you ever walked into a house for a showing and come across this?

this is not our house:

Yeah, me too.  Very appealing, huh?

So when we knew we would be having house showings (please, Lord, let us have house showings), we knew that the stuffed animals needed to take a little trip.

I let each child keep 2 stuffed animals out, and the rest won tickets to see the world on the Black Bus!  (Actually, it’s three black buses that resemble large lawn bags.)  Hooray!  The Black Bus is spending the next few weeks in the basement going on all sorts of great adventures around the world.  On Day 1, we got a postcard from them talking about how comfortable the Black Bus is.  On Day 2, they left us a phone message about seeing the Eiffel Tower.  Life is great on the Black Bus.

Two of the children each found one stowaway but we have sent them off to catch up to the Black Bus.  Next, they are hoping to visit some friends in Thailand.  I’ll let you know what we hear.