Super Bowl Sunday

In the interest of having something here besides radio silence, I'm borrowing from Simple Woman's Daybook again....

Outside my window...a limitless supply of fluffy snowflakes has fallen all day, with zero accumulation on the ground

I am thinking...what a fine babysitter Thomas has grown up to be....also how much I dread the emotional side of our next move.  Which friends will I hold on to?  Who will become Christmas card friends?  Who will be my friend and our kids' friends and our family's hanging out together friends in our new house?  Would you guess that Bill's pre-transportation brief (meaning get ready to move your stuff) is on Tues?

I am thankful for... art week!  We bumped our painting day and museum trip from last week to this one, and we're all excited for a February field trip

I am remembering...or trying to...the funny things that Joseph says and does.  When he is in a good mood, he will let James hug him and he will hug back as much as James wants.  When he is taken by surprise, he quite clearly says, "sTOP IT!"

I am hoping... that in the morning, Cecilia's eyes are still shining about getting to read "the Little Red Hen" all by herself

On my mind...what does Charles really think?  Does he get enough attention?

Noticing that...The twins aren't little boys anymore.  Thomas started combing his hair with a little gel this week.  Anthony was grossed out by the Super Bowl cheerleaders. 

Pondering these words..."He summoned the crowd with his disciples and said  to them, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it. What profit is there for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life? " --Mark 8

From the kitchen... Super bowl Sunday fare: b-b-q beef burgers, chips, brownies

Around the house... little people, newly perky after a week of high fevers, are starting to leave little eddies of mess behind them as they return to their normal life, and we are so grateful

One of my favorite things...watching kids fight over a good book.  Maria read an entire book this morning while she was home sick from church, and still fought to have a turn for it in the afternoon.

A picture thought:

Image of a modern childhood

Joseph recognized the earbud hanging out of my coat pocket while I stood at the kitchen counter eating a pre-run snack and reading the Nelson-Atkins Art Museum calendar absorbedly.  He immediately put it in his ear and tapped on my leg until I looked down to see him indicate that he wanted me to turn it on.  When next I looked, he and Thomas were eye to eye, enjoying the music together. 

Maria's Birthday

Maria does not eat birthday cake.  It just doesn't appeal to her.  Even at her first birthday, there are pictures of her crying because we had given her cake.  God bless her.  I am relieved of any pastry chef cake-master stress and we all get to enjoy some other scrumptious dessert.  This year she chose California style cheese cake.

For her birthday she got a Rip-stick which, as she recently told me with pride, she can ride around the the basement 104 times.  Her doll received a few pretty outfits and we gave her some books, including Tiger Rising by Kate DiCamillo. 

Grrrr, blogging

Yes, I know that the layout in the Christmas post is all messed up.  And I know that it is nearly a month late.  And I know that a child has had a birthday since then.  And there is no banner photo.

These frustrations are not what led me to change the background to black however.  I like the contrast against the photos.

And I'm not going to fix anything right now.  I'm going running.  However, later when my little people are snoozing quietly and my husband is writing a history paper, I plan to sneak upstairs to the computer with the keyboard that works and all the pictures on the harddrive and I hope to staighten everything out.

Christmas

Christmas eve morning shone bright and clear as we drove into downtown Leavenworth for Mass. It was our first visit to St. Joseph's, the first Carmelite parish in America and a distractingly beautiful church. The ceiling is painted a rich blue with silver stars so you feel wrapped in Our Lady's mantle the whole time you are there. Fr. Chris had a funny homily reflecting on Charlie Brown Christmas and the Nativity, and the kids all retold it many times.

In the afternoon, an icy snow was beginning to fall during our drive to the Nativity play at the post chapel. The kids all enjoyed their roles as shepherds, angels and a wise man (Thomas) and boomed out the carols with the rest of the congregation.

On Christmas morning I understood for the first time the excellent description "blanket of snow."  When I peered out into the front yard, I could not tell the difference between yards and roads and sidewalks, and even some cars were up covered to the tops of their tires.  In inches it was only a modest 6, but the Kansas wind made deep drifts in many places. 

With the help of a neighbor with a truck and snow-blade, Bill dug us out it time to make it to Mass.  There were about 30 brave souls, most of whom--like us--had people scheduled to help in some ministry that morning.  It was a quiet, anti-climactic experience compared to other years, but I reflected that the first Christmas was probably pretty similar until the angel choirs arrived. :)

The kids had opened their presents before Mass, so when we got home and back into pjs there was Ripstiking and scootering and generally merriment around the basement and board games once people were worn out.   We had some friends over for dessert and cheer in the evening before we all fell gratefully into bed.

Quote of the Day:  Everybody stop micromanging him!  --Anthony, frustrated with all the help Joseph was getting opening his gifts.

Rest in Peace Grandfather Abbot

If you know my brother Chrysostom or of him, please take a moment to pray for his community and the respose of the soul of abbot emeritus Fr. Parker who died on Jan 3.  When I first came to know the Norbertines, St. Michael's was only a priory and Fr. Abbot Parker was the abbot.  I remember him as a strong and quiet man in person and as an orator with a strong voice and a firm purpose at Mass.  When he retired, we sometimes jokingly referred to him as "Grandfather Abbot" which I just loved because of the affection that inspired it.  Here is a link to the story about his passing and there is a more complete one on  EWTN.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord...

Do you see what I see?

Kansas... Kansas...so funny. After hearing a variety of opinions of it, Thomas and I went and took pictures to try to capture the spirit of Kansas, but I don't feel that photo essays are my gift. Let's see....imagine this....as you leave the interstate and drive towards Leavenworth on a sunny July day, you wind your way down a 2 lane road through fields of corn which bring to mind "South Pacific" and the line "I'm as corny as Kansas in August..." Past Victorian houses on 10 acres of land backed by woods and mountains and over the train tracks where you've just heard the Atchison-Topeka-Santa Fe engine blow its horn as it pulled 72 cars of oil by--as counted by your enthusiastic 6 year old. You wind back and forth between Missouri and Kansas, crossing and recrossing the Platte River, until you finally drive over a blue trestle bridge and see the gate for Ft. Leavenworth on your right.

To the left, only a few blocks away is the epicenter of the First City in Kansas. It has a downtown of about 3 streets by 5 and then it begins to spread into older housing until finally, far enough off not to ruin the charm, newer housing.

There is no Starbucks here. No Barnes and Noble. But if you want some bad coffee, Christa at the bike shop will make you some while she helps you figure out where to buy supplies for your homeschool. And Bob at the Book Barn will dress up as Burl Ives and sing songs to your kids, or just compose a song using the words of a picture book your daughter bought so she can go home and sing it to Daddy.  At Old St. Joseph's, site of the old cathedral for the diocese, daily Mass swells with 30 people including the sisters from the nearby convent. No matter how many tugs she gets on her veil, Sr. Magdalene will still tell you how wonderful your children were.   And when you are out on a date with your son, you can take him to the soda fountain and order a cherry phosphate like your mom used to do with you.

On post, some sage has decided to renovate old housing instead of razing it and starting over. This means that your paint-is-still-wet-duplex-made-over-into-five-bedroom-and-office-large-family house sits on a cul-de-sac surrounded by enough big trees to support multiple swings. When you step out for a family walk each evening, paved walking trails invite you to roam towards the commissary, past the cemetery or even through a little wilderness which leads towards the prison with the field of bison in front of it.

Yes, there are the obligatory tattoo parlors in town with signs like "Prison City Tattoo" in western font, but there is also the diner with its name emblazoned in the same style.  In this converted train station you can still experience a bit of history from signs for the men's and women's waiting rooms and where the ticket counter was located.

Less than a mile from my house I have stopped my bike to watch deer nurse their fawns, and I have ridden my bike through enough grasshoppers to get a pretty good idea of what the Ingall's experienced in Plum Creek. The streets here are crawling with children--sometimes with crawling children--and they are all friends since EVERY ONE OF THEM moved in during the same week.   Now that winter has arrived, the slopes on the far side of the field known as your back yard are a popular hangout for sledders while the front yard is best for snowball fights.

The pace is confortable, even an hour away in Kansas City where they have not yet discovered that daily parking at the museum can't be paid for on the honor system. There is a very nice shopping district close by--about 45 min drive--and the parking is free except where the parking meters collect change for charity. There are still free nature centers and art museums and history galore. In many ways, it's not so much different from DC. But there are very few cars on the road, always plenty of room for a big van to park, and fewer homeless people.  

Think what you like.  We see it as the Army's best hometown.