I didn't bring the camera to our Thanksgiving, but we had a great celebration with friends and lots of delicious food.  So, forgive me, but this is the only photo I have right now, crooked glasses and all. 

I'm grateful for so much- friends and family always. Good communities that are there in good times and hard ones, with conversation and food and company. I'm thankful for living in a city with great theater and music and restaurants and of course, the coffee. I'm thankful that Chris and I are both excited about our jobs right now. I'm grateful that we have found such great educational communities for our kids, even when they're not perfect. I'm thankful that no one in our family has any broken bones right now.  I'm thankful for growth and changes, and taking a minute to reflect. I'm so grateful that I found my way to the Religious Society of Friends, and that even when they drive me crazy, Quakers are there inspiring me to be a better person. I'm thankful for the books and the yarn that are my constant companions, and for the ways that technology can help us all stay connected. 

Happy Thanksgiving Friends. 

a minute of gratitude

                Yup, Chris is  standing! Standing and starting to walk. The docs gave him the all-clear to drive and said things are coming along with his healing, so he is starting to put weight on the leg. He says it's like pins-and-needles, but it's good to be doing it. We also learned that his bone density is not good, which explains why it's so easy for him to break bones. (The man lived in the PNW for 20 years and never took his Vitamin D. Let this be a cautionary tale.) But, the good part of that is that it's reversible with diet and vitamins and exercise. It may take years but he can turn it around.

I am in awe of his determination to get better, and how quickly he's been able to do it. We're not all the way there, not yet, but when I think about how far he and our whole family have come, it really is so much better than it was.

In Quaker speak, a minute is a statement of strong belief that a Meeting or an individual would like to publicly share. Ever since the accident, I've been writing a minute of gratitude in my head. It's been hard and painful and scary, but we've also been so lucky and supported and nourished.

When Chris called me while waiting for the ambulance, I frantically texted some friends and asked for Light. From those first panicked horrible minutes when I knew he was hurt but I didn't know the extent of it, I knew we were being held, and it kept me going through the fear and anxiety.
That was the beginning of our communities coming forward to support our family, and when things were
really stressful, I would just recite my list of thank yous in my head.

For the friend who came over and just helped me think through what decisions I needed to make in those panicked early moments.
For the people who watched my kids, sometimes for most of a day on short notice.
For the people who brought us food, almost every night for five weeks.
For the friend who came over and jumped my car, when my distracted self had left the inside light on.
For the friends who conspired to send us each a gorgeous flower arrangement and give our days some beauty.
For the friend who came over and moved my couch so we could make space for Chris's hospital bed.
For my amazing mom who said "when can I come?" and co-parented with me for weeks. She's the only reason my kids had Halloween costumes, and the only reason I didn't go insane.
For the family who sent us love and support from afar.


I don't know what we would have done without all of you. I really don't.

I also really loved the honesty that people gave me. "Cooking is just not how I'm going to help you guys."
"I really can't do childcare but I could do this." I loved the gift of people being realistic about what they are capable of and offering only what they could. Because that gift of being authentic and honest is so valuable and precious.

I've been on the other side of this equation, I've been the one bringing meals and organizing the gifts. That part is fun. It's fun to give and feel generous and useful and connected.
Being on the other side is hard. It's hard to be the one who needs help. It's hard to feel vulnerable, to know that you can't do it on your own.
We all have our chances to be the giver and the receiver, all our lives. I hope that next time I am the giver, I can be as honest and realistic as the ones who have helped us. I hope that next time I am the receiver (please let that be many many years from now)  I can remember that we all have our seasons of needing help.

Meister Eckhart said "If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough."

I can't decide if they are the smallest words or the biggest words I know. Both, I think.

Thank you.

Queen of Small Moments

This weekend we had self-portraits and sibling portraits. 

Chris had a one man circle pit, with his music and his wheels.

                                             
  We dressed up and played house. Went swimming and hung out with some friends. Brixton had a playdate with a set of triplets that we know from Meeting for Worship.
                             

I'm grateful for each day of him getting better, each day of our family being loved and supported and fed (physically and emotionally and spiritually) by our communities. I'm thankful for bones that heal, and family dance parties to Led Zeppelin and friends that stop by with zines and stories. 

For all this, even this, yes, this. 

a little update

Chris has been home for about a week now.He is doing very well. We have a hospital bed and a wheelchair for him in the basement and he has been able to get himself around. He has been doing physical therapy and

he has even taken the city bus to work twice. It takes him about an hour and a half

but he likes the chance to get out of the house. 

At our last doctor visit, they removed his arm cast and gave him a brace. The doctor said that Chris was healing well and if it continues at this rate, he may be able to be on crutches around Thanksgiving. This is really amazing, since I had expected it to take much longer. 

Grandma Cindy is here and staying with us for a bit. She is basically co-parenting with me right now which is a huge relief and very helpful. 

We continue to be showered with love and support and meals and help, from near and far. 

I have such immense gratitude, to know such good people. 

a few of my favorite (Fall) things

I do love this season. Cozy enough for a scarf but that clear kind of sun. The mellow introspective mood. The crunch of leaves under my boots. 

Making pumpkin muffins for the class snack.

Flannel sheets on the beds.

Pulling out the corduroy jackets and the pile of knit scarves and hats and gloves. 

Homemade potato chips in our potato soup. Isn't Chris clever?

Time to curl up with a book and a mug of something warm. Time to daydream about costumes and thankfulness and celebrations coming soon. 

visit

My parents are heading home right now, after an amazing visit in which they: painted our front hall and hung the kids' coat rack, helped me organize and rearrange all the furniture in our study, hung eight pictures, read countless stories, did an amazing art project with rubber cement, water color paints and salt, put the kids to bed every night and just got to spend some really good time with us. 

Tell me again why Seattle and Chicago aren't closer? 

We had such a blast, and we can't wait for the next visit.

August Appreciations part 2

Continuing on with August Appreciations.

5. Our down-the-street beach, and all the mornings we've spent soaking up the sun and digging in the sand and occasionally splashing into the ccccold lake water.

6. This amazing biography I'm reading of Lucretia Mott. Quaker, abolitionist, leader of the early women's rights movement, devoted mother wife sister daughter. So inspiring.

7. Picking up my knitting needles again after a few months off. I've been struggling and struggling with sewing, tangling my threads and ripping out my seams, so it feels so good to have something feel comfortable in my hands again.

 8. The fact that, some days at least, my kids can be their own best playmates all day long.

9. Running into friends at the park and remembering how great our preschool community has been for Unity, how much she has learned and changed and grown there.

10. Appreciating that we still have another three years at that same preschool, thanks to this guy and his late birthday.

August Appreciations

This past weekend, Unity and I went camping. We were with the current batch of QuEST interns who are finishing up their year of service and community. I may not have mentioned it before, but this is the program that brought me to Seattle and set me on my path. I'm now on the board and I'm really loving the chance to work with the current interns and reflect on that tumultous exciting time.

I don't actually have any pictures from our camping trip. I was just soaking up being in the woods for a few days. But hanging out with the interns and listening to their stories of job searches and housing searches and moving plans....all these transitions, all these new directions. Well, it reminded me that three out of the four of us in our little family are also facing some transitions, and soon. One starting Kindergarten. One starting preschool. And one Mama who is not quite sure what she's going to do with herself.

It's an odd feeling, knowing that big changes are coming but having them be around the corner still. The days are full of half preparation and half enjoying the way things are right now. So this month, as often as I can, I'm going to try and list some August Appreciations. Small things that we are thankful for at this time of lengthened sun and blooming, this moment just before the big one.

Today I'm thankful for:

1. Our newly cleaned and reorganized basement closet. I really should have a before picture but trust that it was a dirty basement closet full of strange and moldy things.

2. Our attempts at making our own food, even when they are not always successful, we learn from them and it's fun.

3. The QuEST program, for giving young adults a chance to live in community and simplicity and service for 20 years now. 20 years! (Also for giving me my first human services job, an introduction to Seattle, and one of my best friends.)

4. My Zumba teacher, who has a day job, and comes to the Y every Tuesday night with the biggest goofiest smile on her face and inspires us to work our padelkas off. No matter how I am feeling, when I walk out of her class I always have the biggest exhausted smile on my face.

What's Goin' On...

We got derailed by a quick little bug over the weekend. It wasn't too bad, but it did cancel Chris and my plans to see 12th Night in the park. I'm hoping to still catch it later on.

                               In the summer, we become fruititarians. I'm ok with that. It's such a short time that we can drench ourselves in blueberries, rasberries, cherries. We eat them in sticky handfuls. A lucky few get put up in the freezer for later jam making. Mostly we just eat them and are delighted.

                                  I know my pictures are sometime a little unbalanced and Brixton gets more screen time. It's too bad I can't follow Unity to school and take pictures of all the interesting works she does and all her wild and tumultuous friendships. Ok no because that would be creepy but still.

                              Yesterday he spent the morning hammering, and then starting cuddling with a shirt of Unity's. The shirt became "baby Walker", don't ask me how. It's funny because Walker is actually a family name on my mom's side but he wouldn't know that. So for the rest of the day we changed baby Walker's diaper and played with him, and rocked him when he cried. I love this hammering cuddling little one.

And the big ones too of course.

   

what the cherries know

The cherry tree we planted when Unity was born is suddenly producing. Over the years it's given us a handful of cherries, enough to eat in one sitting. This year, all of a sudden, the branches are full, dangling the small sweet globes in front of our faces.

It makes sense to me. The tree has been planted on this earth for five years, just like our little bubbie. We were at a dinner party earlier this evening and one of the parents was enumerating the list of responsibilities that came with being one whole hand. "When you are five you will brush your own teeth. When you are five you will wear bloomers under dresses. When you are five you will put your own plate in the dishwasher."

When you are five, you start to bear your own fruit.

                               We were coming home yesterday from a friend's baby shower and I saw a bird pecking at our tree. Chris ran and got a ladder and we picked all the cherries then and there.  A pie's worth, with some left over for snacking, freezing. Storing.

                   We sat there celebrating my friend and her husband and their sweet babe not yet here.  We brought the cake out and one of the 2 year olds wanted to sing. "Happy baby to you, happy baby to you." As the song ended, a lone voice called out "and many more." My friend's eyebrows shot up. "How many is many?" she asked, bemused.

It was good to talk to her, standing on that threshhold. And feeling too how far away from it I am. My big kids, sturdy legs and solid steps. The highchair burried in my basement, some artifact of other days. There is nothing like that burst of new life into the world, in all its wild joy and terror and transformation.

But at five years old you start to bear your own fruit. And I get to be there, to be a part of it. To watch the becoming. I am beyond blessed.

               
                

Things I am grateful for:

1. Fun things to do on a rainy day

 2. Friends to hang out with.

3. Being able to be home full-time with my amazing kids.

4. Our continued good health.

5. My beautiful amazing Quaker Meeting

6. The Rumpus' Letters to Each Other, which has gotten me so excited to check the mail every day. 

7. My supportive husband who comes home from work and helps with dinner and bedtime and then watches BBC dramas with me.

8. Caspar Babypants and all the Seattle kindie bands who make kids music fun for everyone.

9. Our families who continue to love and support us.

10. all the roads we've walked that got us to this place, right here, right now.

Thankful

Today I'm thinking on all the wonderful blessings in my life and really feeling grateful.

Hope you are too.

I saw also that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but an infinite ocean of light and love, which flowed over the ocean of darkness.

-George Fox

Sibling magic

Brixton saw this picture and narrated it. "I fall on the head. I rock with Ti-Ti and I not sad."

There are times when they would fight over anything. Some old broken toy that no one's touched in a year. But they are howling with rage and need, clawing each other over it.

There are times when they spend the whole afternoon playing long elaborate games together, packing up possessions and paddling in their laundry basket boat.

The age and gender difference are so similar to myself and my brother that it gives some of us pause. When my parents were here for Unity's bithday, my dad caught himself calling Brixton by my brother's name. It does give me insight to what parts of my childhood were like, what it was like for my parents. Seeing it from the other side.

My first journal, begun when I was seven, is full of scrawled entries, messy with fierce anger towards my brother. He was my rival until suddenly he was my friend, my dearest. We've talked about how amazing it is to have a close friend who knows your whole life. The entire thing. How we can walk beside each other with that knowledge and that closeness.

I watch them as their game turns from screams to laughter and back in the space of a few minutes.
I can only hope.

sometimes

Sometimes no matter what I do, it seems like there's another mess around the corner waiting to be cleaned up. Sometimes the kids are ravenously hungry all evening long and nothing I feed them seems to be enough. Sometimes I get so tired and frustrated with dragging the kids around on the bus and it seems like my drivers licence is more and more out of reach. Sometimes I look at the piles of toys that no one plays with and the piles of clothes that no one wears and I think about the holidays coming up and all the new things that are coming and I want to scream, or go live in a hut in the mountains somewhere. ( I am very aware that this is such a First World problem and that the people struggling to survive in the Horn of Africa can't even imagine this problem of clutter.) Sometimes I sit down to write at the end of the day and there's just nothing left. Sometimes I think about what my life was like before I had kids and it seems like a foreign country.

But you know, I am so thankful. For my beautiful amazing kids that crack me up every day. For my partner who's with me every step of the way. For coffee and words and friends. For Meeting for Worship and the silence and rest and insight that I gain. For my parent friends who have walked next to me on this long and winding road. For my family, who made me. This is good.

Yarn Along

Today I am especially grateful for those small quiet moments, when not much is happening but everyone is doing fine. We forget how easy the balance shifts towards fear and pain and worry and how fast you can lose things and people and health. I'm trying to just appreicate the small non-events of daily life. This week I'm still working on my sock, and I read two memoirs. My Year with Eleanor by Noelle Hancock is about a young woman who gets laid off and becomes inspired by an Eleanor Roosevelt quote about facing fears. She spends a year

sky diving and volunteering at a funeral home and interviewing ex- boyfriends. I appreciated what she was trying to do, and as I learn to drive again after eleven years of not doing it, I can see how facing one fear makes it easier to try staring down another. But I felt like she focused mostly on extreme sports and physical fears while taking less risks about working for justice for others like Eleanor Roosevelt herself.

The other book I read was Little Princes: One Man's Promise to Bring Home the Children of Nepal by Conor Grennan. This was a fast-moving memoir about a young footlose traveler who spends a few weeks volunteering at a Nepaleese orphanage and becomes totally captivated by the children there. He gradually devotes his life to searching the war-torn country for their families and trying to reunite them. It was interesting to watch his transformation from partying tourist to committed humanitarian and I liked learning more about Nepal and about the children. It's unfortunate that since the scandal about the Three Cups of Tea author, I am a bit more skeptical of the accuracy of stories like this. But it's a good story so I hope it's true.

the payoff

If you are ever wondering why we've lived in Seattle so long, what with all the gray and cloudy and not seeing the sun for months at a time (and believe me I wonder this at least once a week in February and Junuary)here's one reason. This is the view off the back porch of the building where we have Meeting for Worship. Also the strawberries are from our garden.

sweet sweet spring

oh spring we are so glad to see you! Brixton loves to be outside these days, to "walk! walk!" and pick "flow-ers" (dandelions) and look for doggies "me-ow". Me, I just like the sunshine and my tulips. I didn't plant any bulbs last fall because we were on our road trip, but our flowers still came back.

give me a rose in the wintertime

We are all recuperating from a nasty little stomach bug that hit us this weekend. But today I'm feeling thankful for my overall health, in that way that only the first day of recovery can give you. Along with that, in these short dark days of winter it's so nice to have a few splashes of color. So here is a primrose and a (slightly sickly) geranium from our windowsills.