Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen
Today my grandpa, Clement Henry Langreck, was laid to rest. And we couldn't be there because we are sick. He was the last of my grandparents. The end of a generation. How quickly it all goes.
And yet what a long life. 97 hardworking years on this earth, 7 children, 18 grandchildren, and 31 great grandchildren, each one of whom he handcrafted a cedar chest for. He was in his shop making cedar chests as long as he possibly could. Grandpa was out mowing lawn just earlier this year, and walking to get his mail. I pray he is reunited with Grandma, and that they're both with Jesus now.
The kids will miss your merciless teasing, Grandpa. They will miss the bowls of ice cream you were so generous with. They'll miss the lemon drops from the pockets of your bib overalls, the Big Red gum from the top drawer of the dresser, the fishing trips and watching all the stray cats you used to foster and chuckle over. They'll miss your chats about the crops, and the weather, and the markets...but most of all, we'll miss you. So we'll hold onto the memories, and pray you're in a better place.
We find ourselves at the eve of another year, and the dawning of a new church year. Despite the trials of the past year, the first Sunday of Advent always fills me with hope and anticipation. Longing to fill my childrens' hearts with similar sentiments overwhelms me, and I resolve to try again the customs that I may have decided against just last week.
I decided not to do an Advent wreath this year for several reasons, which sounds very Grinch-ish. But I didn't get candles ordered in time and I struggled all last year with the Advent wreath...candles tipping, wax dripping. I may have already donated the ring back to the thrift store it came from, I don't remember. But the unseen Hand of God was at work as always and my thoughtful mother-in-law gifted me a beautiful, simple gold Advent wreath--along with candles. It was meant to be, and I'm relieved now that this tradition has not been neglected.
Gavin put up the Christmas tree today and Liam and he decorated it. I was relieved. (We'll call that the theme of this post.) It's not a pleasant task for me, and if I had my choice it wouldn't go up until Christmas Eve. I'll discreetly straighten a few things out tomorrow, and that will be that.
The Sunday after Thanksgiving is one of the most peaceful of the year for me, in contrast with the busyness and toil of the last few weeks. I always dedicate the month leading up to it to home improvement projects, deep house cleaning, and purging. I never spring clean, but fall cleaning puts summer vibes to sleep and helps launch the household into winter mode. Baskets in the front porch are emptied of sandals and filled with hats and gloves. Snow pants are hung up. Boots set out. Cracks are filled and paint touched up. Appliances are rolled out and dust bunnies harnessed. And then we host Thanksgiving for Eli's family, and it feels a lot like a celebration for the end of project month.
On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, pumpkin pie and coffee are for breakfast and the only things on my schedule are delving into a good book and a nap. The kids raid the fridge, which is deliciously stocked with leftovers, at meal times. Our mission does not have Mass on the 5th Sundays of the month when they happen, and since Addie has been getting car sick I've been avoiding taking her on any lengthy car trips.
I've been reading Let Them Be Kids lately by Jessica Smartt. I love the message driving this book: children need creative play time, love, adventure, lots of nature, and very little, if any, screen time. Too often young children are thrust unnecessarily into adult problems and scenarios and it does so much damage. But the author uses a lot of words to say that and more words to explain why she used the words she chose to use. It's wordy.
In the times between when I can't sit and read I've been working through The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy on Audible. It's one of the most pleasant ways to spend an afternoon, folding laundry while feasting with Tom Bombadil, running from orcs in the mines of Moria, lost in the woods of Lothlorien, riding the shoulders of Treebeard with the hobbits, or galloping into battle with Aragorn.
Tomorrow we will start the St. Andrew Christmas novena. We will resume school as well, after the little break we took last week. Christmas preparations are underway, though it feels like a very short time to transition from Thanksgiving prep to Christmas prep. I vote Thanksgiving be officially moved to September!
I thought it'd be fun to do a twist on this (hopefully) monthly post that was born of the desire to focus on gratitude. I hope these not so favorite things will give you a chuckle, at the very least.
This adorable line-up of bedraggled snugglies. Brought to you by a pup with a chewing addiction and abundant drool. Laundry has never been cuter.
When the adorable dog laying on the rug at my feet mistakes my foot for the rawhide bone he was chewing on. Peaceful morning time has nothing on the shock of a good gnawing from puppy's milk teeth. Really, who needs pedicures and ice shock baths?
Children who take the initiative to decorate their rooms for Christmas. In September. With duct tape. Quite artfully.
That my children are so enthusiastic about going to church. And humming Yankee Doodle Dandy loudly in the quiet before Mass starts. And asking in the loudest whisper what is that smell when someone sits down in front of us. And building bridges from the kneeler to the pew out of hymnals. And asking loudly if we're done yet as everyone gets up for Communion.
My organizational skills. I can't imagine making a single change to my system when it's just so dang satisfying to find the to-do list--the one I had been frantically searching for, and believed to be tossed, for over a week--tucked into a book to mark a page. The same book I had been reading daily for over a week. It's about as satisfying as finding the long-lost phone after I finish talking on it, or finding the bag of chocolate Easter bunnies at the back of the bathroom closet two weeks after Easter (Happy Easter to me!) I don't think it'd even feel like home around here without the basket of homeless socks gracing the dryer top. I can tell you exactly which pile you can find something in, or thereabouts; or exactly where I saw something for the last time. And when all my other systems start sputtering, there is always St. Anthony. Not only has he recovered important paperwork, keys, and tools countless times, he has also returned my wandering children to me more times than I care to admit. Sometimes with the help of the Wal-Mart PA system.
All Saint's Day is one of the kids' favorite holidays, with a lot of imagination, preparation, and creativity poured into their costumes every year. Along with the costumes, they memorize facts about their saints to call out as clues for the other children to try guess their saints during the yearly party at our church. I've hunted down photos of our little saints over the past several years to share with you all.
St. Ignatius Loyola
Blessed Miguel Pro
St. Brigid of Kildare
Pope St. Leo the Great
St. John the Baptist
and St. Lucy--blind, with her eyeballs on a platter.
St. Paul-Apostle of the Gentiles
St. Christopher carrying the Christ Child
St. Raphael the Archangel
Blessed Immelda Lambertini
and St. Charles Borromeo
St. Florian, patron of firefighters
St. Dominic Savio
St. Luke the Evangelist
St. Elizabeth of Hungary
St. Lucia
Moses (Old Testament saint)
St. Francis of Assisi
St. Patrick
St. Isidore the Farmer
St. Joan of Arc
and St. Martin de Porres
St. Nicholas (the REAL Santa)
Blessed Pauline Jaricot
St. William of Rochester
St. James the Greater
St. Maximilian Kolbe
and St. Therese of Lisieux
St. Martin of Tours
Blessed Miguel Pro
St. Peter
and St. Tarcisius with the Blessed Sacrament safely at his heart
St. Kateri Tekakwitha and St. Gertrude the Great
Pope St. Pius X
St. Sebastian riddled with arrows
St. Thomas More
and King St. Louis of France
St. Peter with the keys to the Kingdom
St. Michael the Archangel
St. John Vianney
and St. Patrick extending his blessing upon you
St. Michael the Archangel
Daniel and a Lion from the lion's den
and St. John Bosco
King St. Louis of France and St. George of dragon slaying fame (dragon visible in foreground)
A thought keeps asserting itself in my mind this year. And the thought is that I need to write a book. Obviously I keep pushing the thought away because, really, who has time to write a book? But also because the topic would be, "A Comedy of Errors"... and I'm really truly avoiding the negative here.
But old habits die hard and my sarcastic sense of humor can't help but see the ridiculous in all these things gone wrong. It's hard not to just sit back and laugh (perhaps a little madly) and shake your head. And aside from Covid and the wildfires and natural disasters and the murder hornets and other invading insects, political debacle, and more, all I'm referring to is personal.
Perhaps I should write it, just for my own perusal at a later date--if the world has not ended by then. And then maybe, just maybe, I will laugh and laugh and maybe cry a little for that me of long ago who got so worked up over these things, but also compassionate in remembering the anguish I harbored though it all.
What would I call the book? The Horrible Awful? And the Rains Came? And the Darkness Grasped her Not? Something Biblical sounds appropriate. How about the tirelessly optimistic, A Prelude to Victory?
But I'm rambling.
I see the sunshine today, and I can feel the love of God, and I know it's going to be alright. If it was easy we'd be doing something wrong. I have found the tiny things that help refill my cup so that I don't spill so negatively on those around me. And because of that I've been allowing myself small breaks to do those things, even if it means I am perpetually behind on grading homework.
I'm reading a new book that is...well, amazing so far. Mere Motherhood by Cindy Rollins already has me nodding, laughing, and crying along with the veteran homeschooling mother of 9. Quotes that got me: "And that is how motherhood begins for most of us. We walk into a hospital and walk out with a mewling, puking wonder of the world," and, "Perhaps the greater portion of you are in the middle years. You are just starting to panic a little bit. [A little bit?] You are beginning to realize that tea parties don't cure sin. ...You may miss stamping out a fire or two. ... You are not alone. We who have gone before are still here. We will look you in the eye and say, "Motherhood hurts like hell" but the old dragon skin does peel away," and finally, "We do not write our own stories; we just think we do. My story belongs to Jesus..." Yeah. Yeah.
Gavin is doing this month's family read aloud, "Because of Winn Dixie." He loves to add dramatic flourishes to his stories, which I love about him.
We just wrapped up week 10 of school here. I'm trying to avoid the "just power through" mentality this year in favor of embracing the joy of learning (positivity, ya'll!!!) but, dang. I'm tired. I have to trick my children into doing school. If I sit here like it's my job they flee like game before the hunter. However, if I find a comfy spot to curl up with a book and call out, hey guys, listen to this! Isn't that amazing! and keep reading, more often than not they'll stick around. Oh, snacks help too. Never forget to bait your prey.
Eli has taken a new position at the ethanol plant...one that comes with a regular schedule! It's still new but the move is already paying off. No more shifting from nights to days to nights every two weeks, no more 5 on, 2 off, 2 on, 5 off, every other weekend, no more 12 hour days (unless he wants overtime), and no more sitting in an office. He is active, outside, he's home in the mornings to help reinforce school, and he has weekends off!!! We've already taken advantage of this twice and made plans the last two weekends! I'm just a little excited.
We took a drive last weekend and went up the Mississippi a bit. Peak color week had passed but it was still beautiful. And then I leaned too far out the window with my phone trying to take a picture, and the wind snagged it, and my phone went cartwheeling down the highway at 50 miles an hour. It peeled my "high impact" case off one corner and shattered it, but it still works. It's not like me if my phone doesn't have battle wounds.
Ash is getting huge, and I know this is just the beginning. He is so naughty. It was one thing having a tiny naughty puppy in the house. Nothing is safe anymore. This big, lumbering brute can snag things off tabletops and seems to have a keen sense for when anything drops on the floor. Poor Mojo's favorite thing to do is nap curled up in a fuzzy blanket; Ash's favorite thing to do is snag Mojo's blanket and run. Or put his nose an inch from Mojo and wriggle in delight as Mojo growls and growls. He has trimmed the overhanging leaves from all my houseplants, scalped a bath mat, and shredded countless Lego instructions and pencils. He loves playing tug-of-war and tag and moves furniture when he forgets to watch where he's running. Recently he let himself out the back door when he had to go out by jumping and pulling the door handle.
Last week I brought down Addie's dollhouse from her room. We had finished a small 500 piece puzzle and cleared the end of the dining room table off, so that's where the dollhouse went so she can play down here. It has become the "Calico Cottage" for her Hopscotch rabbit family of Calico Critters, but really, would be more suited as a Calico Orphanage because she could care less about the parent figures. Addie just wants all the babies. They're just so "tute!" I found the dollhouse a couple years ago for $30 on the Facebook Marketplace and my plan was to always fix it up. It's more enjoyable than a puzzle! So far I've put a new wood floor on the front porch, replaced the porch roof, multiple missing pieces of trim, shingles, and blades in the half-timbered design, and rebuilt a few window boxes. I'm also rebuilding the balcony railing. I also got two walls re-wallpapered in the bedroom. Addie's favorite color: PINK.
I picked up a used copy of Alicia Paulson's "Embroidery Companion," some tea towels, and a new embroidery hoop in the hopes that I may start embroidering sometime this winter. Because I don't have enough to do already, you know.
And Ian has his first set of staples...in the back of his head. It was about 10:30 at night, they were all supposed to be in bed, and of course they weren't. One little monkey was jumping on the bed. He fell off and bumped his head. Mama ran to the doctor and the doctor said, "We're gonna staple that shut now, hold still."
I am always inspired by people who stay positive and who seem to radiate joy no matter what's going on. It helps me center myself and pull myself out of the funk that I sometimes find myself in. Pessimism is a poison that has no place in my life anymore. I'm going to try once a month to make a *short* list of things that I appreciate, things that I am thankful for.
Healthcare workers who truly care. Bear with me for a moment, this is going to get a bit depressing (and long) and may be a trigger for others who have had hard births. After the traumatizing experience I had birthing Aidan, sitting in the hospital several days yet after he was born, with an excruciating spinal headache that even morphine wasn't touching, several nurses tried in vain to get an IV started. They succeeded instead in breaking six of my veins. On top of all the pain, I was suffering severe postpartum depression and I broke down crying. I was ashamed of myself so I attempted to apologize, saying, "I'm sorry, none of this has gone as I had expected." One of the nurses snapped back, "Well that was your first mistake, coming in here with expectations." It sank me deeper in hopelessness...so far that I could finally see how someone could get so low that they would take their own life. It was the indomitable kindness and cheerfulness of a black nurse named Marilyn, who spoke with an accent that was somehow a blend of Irish brogue and Jamaican Patois, that reminded me all was not darkness, that I had to push forward for my tiny son. I love that woman, and wish to this day that I could reach out to her and thank her for what she did for me. Back then I had no idea that the comment, "None of this has gone as I had expected," would become the prevailing theme of our life with Aidan, but the caring healthcare workers we've met along the way have been angels in disguise for us. If you're one of them, THANK YOU!
A thrift store sweater that feels like it was knit just for me. Putting it on straight from the dryer feels like a loving hug and reassurance that everything is going to be alright.
Any time we can spend outdoors. Our warm days are numbered but just being out in the sunshine is like medicine for the soul. We have a crazy energetic pup who agrees wholeheartedly, and the kids are happier after an afternoon adventure in the great outdoors. I wish I could bottle the woodsy spice that permeates the air.
Quiet morning time. People thrive in routine and this is mine. I try to get up at least two hours before anyone else. I start the coffee, take out the dogs, and sit down at the kitchen table to do my spiritual reading, plan out my day or week, and pay bills.
Coziness that the cool weather fosters. Candles, scents, baking, blankets, books, uplifting radio programs and all the things that help us survive winter here "up north"...
Every fiber of my being is exhausted. All the kids are more or less in bed...I can occasionally hear some shenanigans going on. I thought I should be enjoying this rare interlude of (comparable) peace by doing something--anything--rather than staring idly into space. But it even felt like too much work to pick up my current read. So I catch myself repeatedly dosing over the keyboard instead.
An aunt recently recommended the book "I Was Anastasia," so I picked up a used copy on Amazon. It shows promise, but it's taking me a bit to get into it. I love novels about historical figures, and this one is about the executed Romanov family and the resurrection of a woman who claimed to be one of the daughters.
I just finished reading "Tuck Everlasting" to the kids. The oldest three loved the story. I tried to get the littlest two to listen but it was over their heads. It sparked some thoughtful discussions..."stone walls do not a prison make"...and produced some deep belly laughs. It was a story they hoped would not end and were asking for a sequel, and if we could find the movie.
We just started week 5 of school. I wish people would not ask how it's going. Some days feel successful, others make me wonder why I rolled out of bed. And every day I struggle to keep up with everything. Every day I wish for a moment to catch my breath, to take a break and then I'd have the energy to just do it all. I did gain a small (mountainous) victory at the end of last week by finally getting the laundry folded and put away. A week's worth of laundry, which is about 21 loads worth. I so enjoy looking at the bare wood of our lovely vintage dining table that I have been making the time and taking the effort to fold each load as it comes out of the dryer. You guys, THIS, to me, is self-care. And it's mostly about my mental health.
This was what the night before looked like, minus a stack of blankets 3 feet tall:
And how the kitchen ends up looking every morning by 10:00:
Some day the house will be clean, they say, and I will miss this. I can't see it yet.
My tendency to collect animals must not have been factored in.
For we have added another furry member to our already crazy domicile.
Meet Ash:
He is a silver lab, now 9 weeks old, and growing like a bad habit. In the two weeks we've had him he's devoured the amount of food that Mojo (our 8 pound Min Pin) eats in 3 months. Ash gained 5 pounds in one week alone, and I have a sneaking suspicion we will soon have a 90 pound lap dog on our hands. I mean legs. He is definitely a lovey snuggler.
How we came about getting him was quite accidental. There was no plan. This is easier to imagine if you know me and my impulsive, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-ishness. A friend on Facebook posted what was left of a litter of labs and I sent a screenshot of the silver lab to Eli, who was at the grocery store. And JOKINGLY, you guys, I'm serious here, I said, "Yay! We're getting the silver one!" In my defense, every once in a while I feel like I need to get my husband's heart rate up for his overall health. This time, the joke was on me, because he got all excited and said he'd go pick him up, and how much money did he need? And once it had gone that far...I mean, how could you say no to that face? So that's how Ash came to be ours. House training is going great and he only has accidents when he's ignored sitting by the back door for too long. He's also confined to the kitchen until I'm sure he's not going to destroy the rest of the house. Which may be indefinitely.
Mojo took the high road at first, gracefully ignoring the interloper, probably thinking "this too shall pass"-- until it didn't. He is now snippy and contentious, avoiding the kitchen unless absolutely necessary. And the fact that they have to share the same 50 square feet of lawn to relieve themselves is almost beyond bearing. If a dog could tip-toe, that would be what Mojo does across the lawn. He's old and set in his ways, poor guy. And I'm almost positive he's part cat.
For Our Lady's birthday September 8th, Aidan made a "Gate of Heaven, Morning Star" cake. He was happy how it turned out--and it was delicious.
Eli and I have been trying to do more things together. It's easy to let life sweep you away and you wake up one morning not even sure if you know the person who has been sleeping next to you for so many years. Since most of the kids are old enough to watch themselves for short periods of time we have been getting out and visiting some of the local places. Last week we visited Swarm which has a reputation for delicious burgers. We each got a Bob's Burger: a one pound monstrosity stuffed with cheese, smothered in cheese. I got the BBQ curl fries and Eli got beer batter cheese and bacon fries (oh my goodness) and Addie had a cheeseburger, and ate the entire thing, which is really good for her. "I like this food!" she said. The big burgers were $16 a piece but worth every penny. We played a couple games of pool while we waited for our burgers.
Now that it's taken me four nights of dosing over the keyboard to get this far, I'll leave it here.
