Landing is always the most dreadful part of flying to me.  I grip the arms of my seats and watch the plane's adjustments...slightly right, slightly left....descending rapidly...can see the ground and runway speeding by outside...finally the wheels hit the pavement with a jolt and you sense the jets blasting forward to slow the plane down.  I feel like I'm in a careening missile.   I sense the fragility of life keenly. 

    Well, we did land safely.  Flying is always an adventure.  Our luggage didn't make it on our connecting flight out, and when we checked in to come home from CO, we found our flight had been cancelled in their system alltogether and had to fly standby.  Lots of opportunities for exerting patience and grace!  I'm not sure I passed those tests.  Knowing our five children and likely tired parents were waiting on the other end put new stress into flying standby. 

    But touching down into real life after a vacation is rough too.  While our hearts, minds and souls were refreshed and challenged deeply as we participated in the OCF counsel meetings and visiting with friends and family, re-entering life's runway of needs and demands is an adjustment!  I savored being served lovely breakfasts with floral bouquets at our Inn to the wafting tunes of classical music, and am now rolling up my sleeves and hurry to make a feverish little 3 year old comfortable and get life for a big family in order again.  The Lord is good to bring me back to life with service to others at the forefront.  I am refreshed and ready to dig in!   

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We were rocked out of our beds last night by an incredible thunderstorm.  It was the kind of clap-bangs that launch you wide eyed.  With wind whistling through the open windows and rain beating in, we rushed around to secure everything.  Every child woke up except the baby.  The lightning was non-stop and clearly close...we watched, mesmerized at the front door, the long jagged lines streaking to the earth.   My heart was pumping hard from rushing around the house, but also from the real fear:  would our house be struck?  I contemplated whether I'd be risking my life to pull in my decorative Easter flag.  I did dash for it, so it wouldn't be shredded or become a flying missile.  Slowly the defeaning rolls became dimmer as the storm moved away, even though the windows continued to brighten with flashes like daylight.  It was indeed quite stirring.  The awake children decided to all camp together in one room for the comfort of company. Snuggling back under the covers, Jamie wandered in, not quite satisfied with the upstairs group.  We pulled him in between us and held his little chubby hands.  I love the drama of God's creation, his display of power.  It also occured to me that it was the morning of Good Friday.  What a powerful reminder of the darkened skies as Jesus hung on the cross for our sakes.  It reminded me of the quote about Aslan, "He is not tame, but He is good." 

Have a blessed Easter, friends!

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Is spring really on the way?  I peruse other blogs written by those southerly writers and gaze longingly at pictures of green grass and hear the raptures of those sights, smells and sounds of springtime.  Here we're still in the upper 30's, having campfires in the backyard and wearing our down jackets.  "No fair for me!" as Jamie would say.

I'm starting my first ever sewn-by-me dress for my dd2. I bought this pattern several years ago when dd1 was littler and am finally convincing myself to start it.  Have you ever started a project or buying things for a project and realized there are still bags of projects-in-waiting at home?  How can I justify this?  I was in a fabric store the other day and found a pattern for a beautiful quilt with creams, romantic reds and appliqued twines of flowers on it.  I convinced myself I could do this quilt, since I'd already made 2 miniature quilts successfully a while back.  But as I started buying all the bits and pieces and bringing them home, I found all the other handiwork projects I've never gotten around to, including the never attempted dress pattern with fabric.  So, before I start my new quilt, I determined I'd finish something(s) I already had in the queue . 

Now my last sewing project was that apron in seventh grade home-ec class, which, as I recall, caused me enough vexation to swear off sewing forevor.  But in my aspiring to emulate the lady of Proverbs 31, I think it's good to try out this avenue of working with my hands.  Also, as a mother of daughters, it would be nice to be able to make modest skirts and dresses and not be at the mercy of what's available in the shops these days.  If I were ever going to buy one of those "_____ for Dummies" books, this is the instance I'd actually humble myself  enough to be the owner of a book by that title.  Now you can all cheer me on and perhaps I'll finish the dress and post a picture of it.  I have no idea what I'm doing, what interfacing or selvege is.  But I do have good scissors. 

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Ok, maybe not fire, but actually water.  This was one of those had to experience it to believe it challenging weeks.  My list is in no way to serve as a whining vehicle for sympathy, but to just recount all the things God sent our way to check our rejoicing threshholds.  To put it all in context, it was finals week for my husbands master's coursework semester.  So he was like the invisible man.  If he was here, it was only a mirage because he was consumed by his papers, exams and presentation preparations.  That factor alone tested my equanimity quite a bit.  We did run through one cycle of sickness, then another baby got it, finally  I caught a cold-turned sinus infection, the computer completely crashed and died on Saturday, and as J went to the basement to find rebooting software on Sunday, he found our basement had flooded with about 3 inches of water during the torrential rainstorms over the weekend.  (We're in the process of finishing it.)  J, Con, and I donned our galoshes, rolled up our pants--I still in my pajamas from being sick--and set about pushing the water out the doors with push brooms and long handled squeegees.  (Turns out our sump pump failed in the night.)

     After the initial shock wore off and while we had no clue what actual damage had been done, we actually were grinning and can I say ...rejoicing?  It was the oddest thing.  Sure, the initial sensation was alarm.  But working shoulder to shoulder together on a family "mini-crisis" was actually enjoyable.  There was a sense of calm and peace.   My good husband set the tone so well, saying after a few minutes,  "This is why the computer crashed!" 

     "What?" I replied sloshing through the water.  "What  are you talking about?" 

     "If the computer hadn't died, " he continued, "I would have had no reason to come down here, and we wouldn't have even had a clue this had happened!"  It put a delightful insight on the event that reminded us God is not distant. 

    I feel a good peaceful sense of victory now that we're pulling out of what seemed to be more challenging variables than I would have ever asked to handle at one time.   The basement dried out, the babies are better, I'm on antibiotics, the computer is up, finals are over as of today, and I'm getting my husband back again.   I feel like a child looking up to her Father (still with my stuffy nose) and asking, "How did I do?  Did I pass?"  And I feel Him pat my back and envision His smile of reassurance.  "You've learned well, my child...you leaned on the Everlasting Arms." 

            "...What have I to dread, what have I to fear....leaning on

                      the Everlasting Arms? 

                   I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,

                       Leaning on he everlasting arms. 

             ...O how bright the path grows from day to day,

                     Leaning on the everlasting arms. 

                           ....Safe and secure from all alarms....

                                                .....Leaning..."

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Well, one always hopes and strives for a "fruitful week" as a kindred blogbuddy put it.  But the only thing being fruitful seems to be the spreading of ailments and bugs among my little darlings.  Little Jamie has been under a bad bug for almost 24 hours, and Suza has had fevers for almost three days.  As I search for the proverbial silver lining I imagine God has chosen this week to exercise, test, and expand the fruit of peace, patience, and gentleness in my own life.  Sometimes holding a sick child brings you wells of compassion as you gaze into the face with flushed cheeks, glazed eyes and droopy mouth.  Other times it brings you confounding feelings of frustration as you're trying to pull together a dinner for the hungry family while rushing to aid in the bathroom or being awoken many multiple times between 2 and 5 A.M. Then trying to start the morning off with one's normal routine is out of the question. Another thought flickered through my mind.  One of gratefulness that we live in a time and place where major diseases like typhoid, scarlet fever, cholera and other ones aren't usually the threat at hand.  Just rewind history a little over a hundred years ago and these were very real threats to the common family home.

Well, I have to say how inspired I was by HsKubes Homeschool Haven.  All my visitors interested in nature study should visit her latest post.  Her great posts along with the prompting of another blog-pal have inspired me to dig into our Exploring Creation With Botany book by Jeannie Fulbright.  Science is one of those things that tends to fall off of my radar.  We've read from various great Usborne science books this year, and did a mini-unit on Astronomy.   But now that spring is hopefully around the corner, I think nature walks with our Anna Botsford Comstock's nature Study book will be on the weekly agenda once again.  As I type the eldest children are decorating their Botany Notebook cover pages at the kitchen bar and singing songs together.  So thanks to all you encouragers out there.  In the meantime, we're hanging on till we pull out of the slough of sickness and eagerly await the surprises of spring. 

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Does anyone else get "blogger's block" doing this?  The pressure to be amazingly insightful, witty, logical or unique?  It's been a few days since I've posted.  That's partly because my husband's aeronautical engineering courses keep him monopolizing the good computer in our bedroom.  So I've had to engage my mind in other directions these evenings. 

Also I got really creeped out by someone's post on blog security and compromising privacy.  Nothing like an alarming story to get you pulling pictures off your site and re-evaluating what's available.  It's best to be wise, but it certainly quelled some of my blogging fire. 

Has anyones' child ever gotten an intruded tooth?  That's the last reason for my lingering long away from blogworld.  My youngest darling J fell on our wooden stairs and jammed his tooth up into his gum by a good few millimeters.  I know we aren't supposed to be anxious for anything, but after googling "tooth trauma" I easily dreaded the worst...tooth extraction and damage to the permanent tooth underneath.  I hate to think of my three year old with a hole in his head four years prematurely.  And since this trauma occured Friday evening, the suspense waiting for the prognosis on Monday was brutal!  I sat up nightly doing hours of on-line tooth research and reading case studies on blackened teeth and all sorts of horrific things.  But relief came today at the dentist's office.  After issuing dutiful reminders on waiting room decorum to my five blessings, we got the bottom line from Dr. John.  The tooth would likely be fine and move itself into correct position over time.  It did hit the permanent tooth behind it and there would be some evidence of that when it comes in eventually, but I was happy it wasn't worse.  Now I can sleep easier, but I still have all this weird dental jargon floating through my head.  Words like "avulsion,"  "luxation,"  "incisors!"      I feel like I should have earned some dental school credit for all that work reading case studies deep into the night...I guess that will just have to go toward my self-awarded "PhD in Life" as a kind blog friend put it. 

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Today S and I pulled out Tasha Tudor books for inspiration as we sketched some valentine cards.  I rarely seem to have the energy for hyping up holidays such as this.  Or I get excited and celebratory on odd holidays.  Last year we made a presidents day cake and decorated the house with red silver and blue sparkle stars and had a bead craft.  I look back and think, where did that wave of creative energy come from?  I need another one. 

Tasha Tudor's art always inspires me.  When I was young my best friend and I would check out A Time to Keep from the local library over and over.  In it were the detailed descriptions of how Tasha's family celebrated holidays with home-made things, home grown plays and the like.  They would spend all year making Christmas gifts for others, they wove their own linen, made dolls and marionettes and a myriad of other things.  In all the illustrations there are half a dozen adorable children and numerous corgis hovering about. 

Somehow I've always wished I could do this and live those idyllic pictures.  I'm getting there with our brood of five children, but the littlest one is usually unrolling toilet paper somewhere else quietly rather than participating in the endeavor at hand in real life!   There's the rub.  Reality seldom is quite the rosy lensed picture in the book.  Which brings up the issue of how mother learns these homespun arts in the midst of keeping control of the rest of her domain??  My case in point is this blog (not exactly an old-fashioned art).  In the two recent days I've spent setting it up, setting up the kids' blogs and checking it out, surfing other blogs, my house has unraveled!  I emerge from my desk to all manner of chaos, laundry forgotten in the washer, games strewn from their boxes, and all sorts of things that a puppy, one toddler, one 3 yr old and 3 energetic homeschool kids have done or played with in the time I've been catching up with the world of bloggers...you get the picture.  When will I ever get to learn to weave or float cakes down rivers?? 

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I can't bring myself to shoo them all outside right now.  So I've let them pull cushions from couches, lug down a myriad of bed pillows and stuffed animals to create their elaborate living room campsite territory.  I feel like a paranoid animal that wants to start pacing and going..."uhhhh uhhh things are out of control."  I feel my perfectionism trying to rear its head.  I refuse to let it.  I have to forcibly remind myself to let the chaos reign for a bit and not compulsively start putting everything back in its place.  The forts and pillows and invented world they're in will mean much more to them in their memories of home than seeing a tidy living room. Though that really ministers to MY sense of peace!  Well, water's boiling for macaroni and cheese.  Time to put the noodles in.

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