Packing begins

Spring is finally here--despite the fact that it was 18 degrees this morning and all the newly-bloomed daffodils are bent over in a posture of severe depression.

Our daffodils are smart though--we apparently live in a cold pocket and the ones in our yard have yet to bloom.

I prefer to stay under my warm blanket too.

The geese are bravely (and noisily) flying north at last:

So happily, I've recovered from my stomachache, after nearly a week of moping around and forgetting what food tastes like.


(I remember now.  It's delicious.)

Our new house has running water and some electricity, appliances sitting in the middle of the floor, and forms ready to receive concrete if it ever gets warm enough to pour it.

We may be within a few weeks of moving, and as such, have started packing (much easier when you can get off the couch).


At the end of last week we finished boxing up the garage.


Wow.


10 years worth of putting off decisions about things does tend to pile up.

I'm glad to have that cold task finished now that the weather has reverted to January.

Jason even tackled several huge boxes of cords and electronics that all needed to be sorted through.  Some was plain trash, some was trash that would kill us all if we put it in a landfill, some was useable if someone wants it, and a few things were to keep.


Needless to say, the bedroom was covered in his sorting piles, with every manner of small electronic accessory scattered about, so much that Caleb asked if Daddy was making a robot.

Thankfully, Daddy did not inadvertently create robotic life, and we have a plan for all the hazardous heavy metals (you're welcome).

Much of this packing progress was made possible by Grandma, who kept the kids overnight for a sleepover party last week.


They weren't so heartbroken to leave me that they didn't sit on the side of the road for half an hour waiting for Grandma to arrive.

They had a fun time and I got the garage packed, so I suppose that's a win for everybody.

Wordless Wednesday

Spring break

Once again I'm so glad that we homeschool, for the reason that we set our own schedule.  We're on spring break for four whole weeks and I'm so relieved.  The house is hurtling toward completion and I've been there every day.


I did, however, forget that every year over spring break we get sick.


At the moment it's me with a stomachache.  But again--so grateful I have kids big enough to serve their siblings peanut butter and jelly while I groan on the couch.  Such a relief from the days of relentlessly demanding little ones to whom it doesn't matter how awful you feel.


The plumber was working yesterday, so I think we have running water now.  Here's hoping I'm up and at 'em in time to pack, because it looks like a real house now.

Here comes trouble

The end of winter

We went from this:

to this:

in two days.  

60 degrees never feels so good as in early March--especially when you're still reeling from record cold and a couple feet of snow.

Since I could *see* the road at last, I forewent my usual treadmill jog and took a run outside.  (In shorts and a t-shirt!  Last time I ran outside I wore a hat and mittens!)

It was glorious.  The robins have suddenly descended upon us en masse, all skinny and frantically busy pulling up worms.  The trees were ringing with birdsong and the streams along the road were burbling and swollen, making beautiful music.  The sun was warm on my back.

Every season tells of the glory of God, to be sure.  The fresh snow reminds us that though our sins were as scarlet, He washes us whiter than snow.

But spring just seems to shout good news, doesn't it?  New life bursts forth--like Jesus from the tomb on Easter.  The rushing streams wash away all the muck and mess and memory of winter, just as He washes away our sin and will one day wash away all memory of our sorrow.  Birds sing above, reminding us of the ever-praising angels around the throne.  Light dawns earlier each day, reminding us that the one Light is returning.

C. S. Lewis understood this, which is why he describes heaven in The Last Battle as being in springtime:  

They stood on grass, the deep blue sky was overhead, and the air which blew gently on their faces was that of a day in early summer...  

Their hearts leaped and a wild hope rose within them.       

"There was a real railway accident," said Aslan softly...  "The term is over:  the holidays have begun."

"Arise, my darling, my beautiful one,

And come along.

For behold, the winter is past,

The rain is over and gone."

~Song of Solomon 2:10-11

Juggle juggle juggle

My fortunes are colliding.

Caleb and Lizzy don't look like they feel very fortunate.  We had headed outside to play but when they felt how cold it was they decided to stay in the garage.

I'm so thankful for this new house we're building.  I'm glad it's only a mile away so we can pop over any time to check in.


This is what I saw this week.

The kitchen cabinets are in, though not installed.

This week I also picked bathroom hardware, a plaque for the exterior house numbers, a front porch light, and a kitchen sink and faucet; got an estimate for closet shelves; and ordered plantation shutters for the bathroom.

I'm thankful, too, that I can stay home with my little ones.

And I feel very fortunate to be able to homeschool.

It is rather challenging lately to build, provide childcare, and teach.... simultaneously.

Design questions alone are enough to make my brain explode.

Can we afford a backsplash with the expensive but gorgeously-detailed blue tile?

In fact, can we somehow incorporate ALL the pretty eye candy?

What about countertop?  Can we find an inexpensive one so we can afford the beautiful backsplash?

Which off-white should it be?

Uh-oh.  None of the countertops in the preferred price range go well with the beloved tile.


Maybe a different blue tile?

But do I dare go with blue at all?  What if I want to decorate with red at Christmastime?

Leaning toward this countertop...

Babysitter time is getting short and I can't find a tile to coordinate.  Maybe I'll find The One at the other store.


I found a tile that coordinates perfectly with my countertop sample, flooring sample, and paint sample, but now I'm having a crisis over whether I can commit to something greenish.

I step back, I squint, I take over the whole aisle, I take down a bucket of mortar to use as a stool.  The clerk comes by no less than three times to ask if I need help.  

Suddenly I notice the time and realize I have to get home.  I've spent four hours away from my family and come away without tile or countertop.

I'm in the car before frustration turns to tears.

Gone are the days of effortless beauty in the garden of Eden.  The home improvement store is feeling like a bed of thorns and thistles.  

Back to the books the next day.  Lizzy--whose preschool I have long neglected under pressure of other necessities--asks to play with letter magnets while I work again with the big kids. 

Jeddy uses the medium to express his displeasure about doing math.

Which is kind of how I was feeling about the tile crisis.  

{Not to mention my children's appreciative attitude toward their hardworking mother.}

The next time I could get to the store, I finally presented my countertop sample and said I was ready to order it.  

They informed me that that color was discontinued.  

I needed to select a different one.

Conveniently, there were several countertop models around for me to bang my head on in despair.

Aside from kitchen design, we have bedroom windows that need some sort of privacy treatments to make the rooms usable.  So next was the fabric store to consider making curtains.

Pale green floral?

Blue stripes?

Maybe flamboyant pink for the girls' room?

And on and on it goes.