Katie turned eleven months old on Monday! This feels significantly closer to one year than ten months did. It certainly feels like a countdown is beginning, doubly so because Katie will start daycare just after her first birthday. I think I am feeling deeply stressed and subconsciously sad about this fact.
I mean, I know I am. Lately, I have literally dreamt at night about how cute she is. 12 hours a day is not enough time to marvel in the cuteness!!
At the same time, if I have to have a job, I guess will be happy to have a normal workday back. And I think Katie will do well to have a play setting that is not doubling as her parents’ offices.
“Oh I’m sorry, was my cup-banging disturbing your Zoom call? Try muting yourself.”“Mom’s talking about her boss again.”
But that is enough work talk. We will get through these last few weeks of incessant multi-tasking — and I’m sure when it’s over, we will look back on it fondly!
As my mother explained on the blog, last Tuesday, I drove from St. Louis to Springfield and then from Springfield to Jefferson City. It was quite the haul–but really not that bad. And, of course, I heard a lot of country radio. Once you get passed Rolla, the radio stations come and go quickly, so I did a lot of scanning. And heard a lot of small town stations. I had never heard this song–but don’t worry, I happened upon it TWICE on the drive.
This song poses a good question: what is your country song? Of course to answer that, you have to decide your genre. Afterall, we all know:
Sidenote: Can I also just say that I hope your song is not Fancy!
Anyway, while on my drive, I observed another theme: songs about being country. I mean, really celebrating it, like these guys. But are you familiar with this gem? Yep, heard this on my drive.
Just look at those jeans. And that hair. Country’s favorite Texapino, as he called himself back in the day. Anyway, I suspect, we’ll be hearing a lot more songs like Thomas Rhett’s newest single in the future:
So, what’s your country song? Lately, my life feels a lot like a Hillbilly Highway. But, I’m not complaining.
We are at peak lushness here in flyover country. Can’t wait for the Iris to pop!
I am back to reading Jorge Luis Borges:
That One
Oh days devoted to the useless burden of putting out of mind the biography of a minor poet of the Southem Hemisphere, to whom the fates or perhaps the stars have given a body which will leave behind no child, and blindness, which is semi-darkness and jail, and old age, which is the dawn of death, and fame, which absolutely nobody deserves, and the practice of weaving hendecasyllables, and an old love of encyclopedias and fine handmade maps and smooth ivory, and an incurable nostalgia for the Latin, and bits of memories of Edinburgh and Geneva and the loss of memory of names and dates, and the cult of the East, which the varied peoples of the teeming East do not themselves share, and evening trembling with hope or expectation, and the disease of entymology, and the iron of Anglo-Saxon syllables, and the moon, that always catches us by surprise, and that worse of all bad habits, Buenos Aires, and the subtle flavor of water, the taste of grapes, and chocolate, oh Mexican delicacy, and a few coins and an old hourglass, and that an evening, like so many others, be given over to these lines of verse.
How was your weekend? Mine was not so quiet as I first anticipated. Saturday was a lovely, sunny day. I bought some geraniums and planted them in the pots on my front porch. I weeded. Then the OM and I drove to Washington on the Missouri River and sat on a roof deck and enjoyed the scenery. Nothing fancy, but nothing better.
That night I watched The Wizard of Oz (1939) and was reminded once again what a perfect movie it is. I wouldn’t change a thing. Of course, it only won Oscars for best song and score. But the sets, the costumes, the art direction! The technicolor! The acting and direction! Zut alors! I highly recommend re-watching this movie the next time you are looking for something to watch.
Female archetypes
On Sunday I went to church–ah, how nice that sounds–and then went home and continued reading The Scent of Water by Elizabeth Goudge.
This old-fashioned novel about a city-bred woman who moves to the English countryside when she inherits a house from a mysterious elderly relative is a type that is never written/published these days. It is a pleasure to read its carefully-written prose and its slowly unfolding story. Not much happens, but the characters grow in self knowledge and spiritual maturity. They are interesting people, not cardboard cutouts.
Next up is S.C. Gwynne’s Rebel Yell about Stonewall Jackson. I am no fan of the Confederacy or its generals, but I have always loved Stonewall Jackson, who was a devout Calvinist. I love the story of his Scotch-Irish ancestors who came to this country as indentured servants in the 18th century and fought hard and bravely to forge a home in the wilderness and improve their lot in life.
The wee twins came over Sunday night per usual with their parents for some frolicking goofball fun.
They are getting to be so grown up!
In other news, my Christmas cactus is blooming!
One more thing: here’s an interesting article. “As for security, it is the utter madness and control freakery of our age that thinks we can stay secure and somehow transfer that to our children. The gospel takes us out of ourselves and our efforts and places us in Christ where there is total security.”
I received some very nice gifts for my birthday from my thoughtful family, including a foot massager that is out of this world. Another favorite is my new book, Dolly Parton Songteller: My Life in Lyrics.
You know how I feel about Dolly–she’s the greatest–so wiling away the hours reading this collection of the lyrics to 175 of her best-loved songs, along with the personal memories and the inspiration behind them, has been a pleasure. Just looking at the pictures of this remarkably beautiful lady from the hills of Tennessee is fun.
In other news, we had a new roof put on our house yesterday and I feel as if I went through the Battle of the Somme. I was exhausted and shell-shocked after 7 hours of incessant hammering and thumping above me while I attempted to work remotely in my upstairs “office.” Boy, do those guys work hard! Anyway, the new roof looks very nice and I am glad to have it done and finished.
Tomorrow is the birthday of Henry Koster, who, though he never won an Oscar, directed some darn good movies: The Bishop’s Wife (1947), Harvey (1950), The Robe (1953), A Man Called Peter (1955), and a host of others. I will toast him and watch one of his films.
And here’s a good thought from another Scotsman. “So we do not panic and we do not vent, and we enjoy a deep confidence even as the tides seem to run against our faith. “
Well, TGIF. Have a good weekend. Mine will be a quiet one with none of the rollicking fun of last weekend, but that’s okay. I need to catch my breath.
Darling Katie and I made it back home in one piece — for the most part. I think both of our nerves are a bit frayed. I didn’t manage to do much back at work because Katie was all out of sorts and would get very upset if I was not in her sight. I think after a fun weekend with a relaxed, happy mommy and lots of extra attention, she was a little bit like:
What, mommy is back on her laptop?
I feel you, Katie.
Since we have already reported the play-by-play of all the fun we had over the weekend, I thought I’d share how we did on the airplane. While being in crowds in an enclosed space after 13 months of…not doing that…was a bit much, I was happy to find that you can still depend on the kindness of strangers. I was able to tote Katie, a suitcase, and a huge diaper bag with me through the airport and onto the airplane and into a window seat only because several people offered to carry my bags, make room for us to move around, and pick up various items from beneath their seats over and over again.
Katie spent most of her time in the air like this:
but no one so much as gave us the side eye. Instead, they gave us lots of compliments: on Katie’s cool demeanor, peekaboo skills, leopard-print attire, etc.
Katie’s seat-mates about her in-flight performance
Well, I have to agree. It is gratifying to know that this “pandemic baby” can handle being out in the world — and that the world is not totally terrible!
Until our next adventure, we will be readjusting to our quiet routine: unpacking baskets, practicing standing, and holding conversations with clown bear.
Who didn’t get the memo? JK, there was no memo, which is even funnier.
Today I am standing in for daughter #1, who drove all over Missouri yesterday, after driving us around all weekend. I know she was exhausted when she finally rolled into Jeff City late yesterday afternoon, having made a side-trip to Springfield (to film a video) on the way home.
I too went back to work (in my upstairs office at home) and tried to get my mind off everyone leaving by concentrating on other things. Likewise daughter #2 is recovering from her trip home with her bright-eyed and very energetic baby. Life barrels on.
“Jean was visited by one of her rare moments of happiness, one of those moments when the goodness of God was so real to her that it was like taste and scent; the rough strong taste of honey in the comb and the scent of water. Her thoughts of God had a homeliness that at times seemed shocking, in spite of their power, which could rescue her from terror or evil with an ease that astonished her.”
― Elizabeth Goudge, The Scent of Water
This article by John Piper about angels interested me. “So, all angels serve the good of all Christians all the time. They are agents, as it were, of Romans 8:28, making everything work together for good under God’s providence.” As a matter of fact, I call on angels every day, especially when my children are driving around the state and flying on planes. Does that surprise you?
Willie Nelson will celebrate his eighty-eighth birthday tomorrow. Here is one of my favorite recordings of his, a duet with Emmylou Harris from 1990.
Have a great Wednesday. I thank God that his mercies are new to me every morning and that his grace is sufficient for all situations that I may encounter. Peace to you.
We had one more fun day with daughter #2 and Katiebelle. We stuck to our plan of going to the zoo between Zoom meetings,
but then our plans fell apart in the afternoon. We found out the hard way that our local custard station hasn’t opened for the season yet, Club Taco is closed on Monday, Hacienda had a 25 minute wait at happy hour and so on. We finally went home and daughter #1 made Margaritas the old fashioned way (in the blender). We ordered takeout from Dewey’s and the OM picked it up. Splendid.
Life is too short to sweat the small stuff.
Today daughter #2 and Katie are heading home to DN and we are very sad 😭, but we will see them soon.
And here’s a poem by Billy Collins:
If ever there were a spring day so perfect, so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze
that it made you want to throw open all the windows in the house
and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage, indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,
a day when the cool brick paths and the garden bursting with peonies
seemed so etched in sunlight that you felt like taking
a hammer to the glass paperweight on the living room end table,
releasing the inhabitants from their snow-covered cottage
so they could walk out, holding hands and squinting
into this larger dome of blue and white, well, today is just that kind of day.
Daughter #2 and Baby Katie made it to flyover country on Saturday which was rainy and dark, but this little cupcake brightened things up right away…
We went to our favorite winery in Hillsboro and the wee twins came over for a frolic. Baby Katie was chill throughout–quelle trouper! I managed to go to church for the 4th week in a row! And we celebrated two birthdays.
Today I am supposed to be working, but we are sneaking off to the zoo between Zoom meetings. Sounds like a plan.
It’s Friday and I am very excited because daughter #2 and baby Katie are arriving tomorrow for a quick visit. How great is that? Thankfully we have gotten through all the snow and cold temps and we should be able to enjoy some nice sit-outside weather.
In other news, my DP gave me this book for my birthday and I have been flying through it.
Scary stuff, harrowing stuff, but we knew that about the Comanches already. (I had a hunch that Larry McMurtry wasn’t exaggerating. He must have read Rachel Plummer’s journal.) Read it, if you can take it. There is no sugar-coating and excuse-making for the Comanches’ behavior. There is plenty of context. I am enjoying it a lot.
I watched two Humphrey Bogart movies this week: The African Queen (1951) and The Oklahoma Kid (1939). I enjoyed them both a lot. The African Queen is a classic, of course, and I have seen it many times. I had not seen the latter in 50 or so years–not since the Humphrey Bogart Theater on channel 11 days of my childhood. It also stars James Cagney as the eponymous hero. He is a little weird (and short) in a western, but I have grown to appreciate him in my dotage. He had a style all his own, even in high-heeled cowboy boots.
This was a thought-provoking piece. “How does a person become a saint? By grace alone. To argue otherwise questions what the Bible has to say about people and about saints. A true saint is not someone we strive to imitate, but someone who shows us a clearer picture of what it means to be a sinner saved by God.”
This reminded me that The Selfish Giant was one of the boy’s favorite stories and deeply affected him as a child. “And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, ‘You let me play once in your garden, today you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.”
O God, our heavenly Father, whose glory fills the whole creation, and whose presence we find wherever we go: Preserve those who travel; surround them with your loving care; protect them from every danger; and bring them in safety to their journey’s end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
dual personalities 