Anniversary Harvest

We wanted to eat cake. Really we did. A wedding cake that was frozen in time so that a momentous day could be celebrated one year later. Instead, we harvested grapes and made grape juice as we stayed up way past bedtimes and then no one was hungry for wedding cake and I am not sure where the evening (or the cake) went.

I am not sure where the last year went either. A year ago today this is what we looked like, what we were doing. The day was much like today. Sunny, a little chilly, but a beautiful Fall day with friends and family. A good day, one of the best ever.

One year... 365 days...8760 hours. No matter how you look at it, the time flew by. Now the newlyweds aren't so "newly" but they are still blissfully wed. And as much as I loved the wedding day, the days since have been sweet as well. Not perfect because life gets busy, work gets in the way and sometimes the silence stretches on too long, but I look forward to the Sunday afternoons when we are all together to enjoy the laziness, the random text messages that say (although maybe not in these exact words) "I'm thinking about you", the birthday suppers, the "hey, are you at home" moments, and the "Can I stop by?"kind of days.

Yes, life goes on. Wedding days are full of promise, full of what the future holds, and hearts full to the point of overflowing. The days after have those days of crazy love, wonderful Saturdays spent together, the knowing that "goodbye" can simply be "goodnight" and the parting need not happen. Yes, life continues to be good and what the wedding day planted is now being harvested.

A year ago, we were dressed up, looking fine. Today, it is more relaxed, both in the pace and the style.

Instead of rushing to get hair styled, nails filed and makeup in place ready for smiles, I hit pause. I thought about grapes. 

I mean, its not every day that pink shoes fit the ticket and the other day, instead of setting up Morguen Toole with a vintage popcorn and candy bar, setting up table decorations and decorating the church, Lisa-Anna and I picked grapes. Another kind of harvest.

The vines were loaded. I don't think we even made a dent in what was there. Yeah, kinda like life. 

Life comes at us fully loaded. I just might make a dent. 

Did I mention that sometimes grape juice making can get a little messy? Maybe not in your house, but in my house, oh yeah. It gets ugly. All it takes is one rogue hose spraying scalding grape juice and well, you can see for yourself. But messy though it may be and even though the evening got later and later and soon it was in the wee hours of the morning, the results are worth it.

Okay, another life analogy. I can't help it. Life can get messy and ugly too sometimes. Not just in the big ways, but in the little things like bad moods, sour attitudes, harsh words that can't be erased….

Just like those hot spritzes of grape juice that spattered all over my stove. When they land on your skin, they burn. It hurts.

Now, how do I put all that together? Weddings, wonderful days, grape picking???

It's like this. Each day is given to us. Some days are for planting seeds, other days are for gathering the harvest in. Many days, it's just about letting life grow us. Waiting. Watching. Wondering. Hoping. Praying. Crying. Laughing. Resting.

Today I am remembering a good day. I've seen growth and it is good. Sweet. Like grapes. And this is only the first year's yield.

Love,
Dianne

Sinking Confessions

At some point in every woman or man's life there comes a time when that ominous area beneath the kitchen sink has to be addressed. My time was yesterday. I am not sure why or how it happened, but suddenly I found myself on the floor, pulling items out as if there were no tomorrow.

And when I say "items", this is what I mean:
Miscellaneous hinges, dish detergent, floor cleaner, window cleaner, cleanser, other assorted cleaners, kitchen sponges and chore boys, an old water filtration system, a cardboard box full of plastic grocery bags, a few paper grocery bags, a container of Flora-Life to extend the life of my bouquets, miscellaneous empty containers because you never know when you might need one, a bin of rags that substitute for napkins when we run out (which is 98.5% of the time), old trim pieces that had fallen off the outside of the cupboard and kept because someday I might put them back on. Oh and cobwebs and dirt of the ground-in dirt variety that was now adhering to the linoleum that was in the kitchen when we moved in.

As I worked feverishly to empty out the space I felt the need to check my hair. Granddaddy Longlegs have been known to dwell the region, along with other unnamed species of the 8-leg variety. Even writing this, I get random shivers, causing my surroundings to quake too. I am running my fingers though my hair, hoping, praying I don't find anything besides cobwebs which are bad enough.

In that dark, welcoming under-the-sink world, I killed two spiders, but I know one is still in there. Hiding. Waiting, with his family. The spiders that I squashed? I left the spider remains where they were. As a warning.

As I worked, involuntarily my lip curled in distaste and my nose crinkled; I am glad no one was around to snap a photo. Layers of grease, grime and yuck from years, yes, I said years, was under that sink. Leaky plumbing, kids doing dishes and sloshing large amounts of water out of the sink onto the wooden wormy chestnut encasing which then, in turn, seeped to the sink underworld. Imagine caked  mud puddles. You may need therapy. I need therapy.

If HGTV should come to visit, I am sure I would be taken to the HGTV jail. Or my kitchen sink region could become a scientific experience with a show all of it's own.  The Sink and Beyond. 

Sorta Before...

I should have taken a before and after photo, but this blog is family friendly (even if my kitchen is no longer the child-proof place it once upon a time was.) I did not want to be the cause night terrors, or worse, guilt about your own kitchen under-the-sink status. On the flip side, neither did I want to be the cause of undue pride for someone else as they realize how truly clean their house is, in comparison that is, to mine.

I did take one picture when I was about halfway done. Don't worry, I won't make it any larger than it is. Warning: Do not zoom in.


                                                                                 I did take an "after"shot though because it may never again look like this. Organized. Functional. Cleanish. I even did the dishes in honor of the occasion.

I have decided that Greased Lightning is now my one of my best friends. I found this jug underneath the sink, in the corner. I didn't even know I had it.

Yes, there comes a point when the unpleasant jobs need to be tackled and when it is done, it makes one wonder why procrastination was even an issue. But, I am wondering, does this same logic apply to cleaning the oven? The non-self-cleaning oven? The oven that has disguised its gray interior with a coat of ash and soot?

I didn't think so.

Love,
Dianne

Loosening The Strings

An older picture, but one of this mama's favorites.
"My Girls"

Late last night...

The midnight hour approaches and as I sit in the living room, I hear an episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond" playing in the next room and eruptions of laughter from the two young women snuggled on the couch under a pile of blankets and pillows. Watching a television show together, Adrienne and Amy are together on this last night before my most middle child leaves for college. Heather, always Amy's little sister, is camping with the youth group and said her emotional teary goodbyes earlier this evening. My heart breaks a little for my sweet Heather who is struggling the most with the coming changes.

Another earlier time...

Wasn't it just the other day that Amy looked up with her dimpled grin and asked if she could go to Kindergarten? Now I have to look up to meet her eyes as I remind her to get her things packed because she leaves tomorrow.

It is funny how my girls are so different. Adrienne would've been packed August 1st, with the bags organized by items. Her lists, on paper and on her whiteboard, would have been concise and thorough. Heather would have waited a bit longer to pack and her list would have been in her head. Amy had scattered lists, some on her phone and some on paper scraps, and she pretty much packed it all today, then went to go babysit until 10:30 last night. Can you tell which one is my artsy one? My laid-back, it'll just happen when it happens child?

Speaking of waiting until the last minute, let's talk textbooks. She needs four of them for this looming first semester where she begins the journey of obtaining a degree in Youth Ministry. You want to know how many she has in hand? One. The other three are in transit because, well, we ordered them last week. She's not too worried. I mean, we only knew since June what she would need. I think that this middlest child of mine is very much like her middle child mother. The poor dear.

Honestly, I don't know how I feel about Amy heading off into the world. When Adrienne started college, she started local and stayed local. Even though there are weeks I barely see her as she comes and goes, independent with work, school and church activities, she is still nearby and I know it. Not only that, but she is my first-born who is organized, focused, determined and well, just simply amazing.  She is many things that I am not and to say that I am proud is an understatement. She makes me want to go back to elementary school and I want her to be my teacher.

When Aaron decided to move out, I struggled a lot at first with trusting that he would be okay. What if he needed me and I wasn't close? But then he did move and he did wonderfully. He showed incredible maturity and responsibility and my boy was no longer a boy, but a man and my heart burst just a little more with the pride I felt. Then, when he was a groom standing at the alter, I thought my heart would sing. For now, he and Lisa-Anna live in the area and I've been blessed with having my adult children nearby.

Heather and Ryan? Still at home. Whew. I'll just tighten those strings a little tighter for now and decide to enjoy the days, the hours, the moments I have with them. Heather is in 10th grade and I know that before I barely have time to take a breath, she will be packing her bags and ordering textbooks. Hopefully it won't be the night before she leaves for college. Ryan is in 5th grade and I might just have him drink coffee because my mom used to always say "drinking coffee stunts your growth" and he turns 11 in about a week and is already using terms like "preteen" and "puberty". No, no, no.


Amy. It's now morning, the morning she leaves. She stumbles her way past me into the bathroom and I  think "I am going to miss this girl of mine." Even when she gets grumpy because we all ask her, "What's wrong?" when nothing is wrong and she informs us that it is just her normal expression and stop asking. I might just have to take up skyping just so I can ask her what's wrong.








Her bags, clothes basket, canvas, art supplies, linens and pillow are all in the kitchen now. She even has miscellaneous unmatched socks tucked in here and there just-in-case in the suitcase. She is eating her eggs and toast as we prepare to leave. I think I may be dragging my feet just a little. But really, I know that she'll be okay. She has God on her side and in her heart. New friendships will be formed and old ones renewed; she already skyped last evening with her future roommate. Her dad and I may not have always done everything by the (parenting) book but it's time to let her go. I'm loosening her strings.






Love,
Dianne and Amy's Mama


P.S. One last note (from a text Leo sent his brother this morning):

"Ryan and I will not be there
Sister Amy has to fix her hair,
She has packed her pail and she's off to Rosedale."

A Little (Ha Ha) Rain

"And the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down in rushing rising rivulets…"

…and down and down and down…

Thus was the trip to Halfway-Between-Here-and-Cove-Valley-Camp

on the next to the last day of August 2014. 

What started out as a simple trip for a Labor Day sleepover weekend at my sister's house, turned into something like a scene straight out of Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day. The plan was for Amy to drive her car with two passengers and their belongings and I would drive my car with three passengers and their belongings. We would then meet my sister at a gas station where we would transfer Ryan and my nephew Josh to her van and Amy, Heather and my niece Jennifer would continue in Amy's car. Confused yet? 

They could have all fit in Amy's car for the trip and I could've saved myself the drive but my maternal worry was in overdrive and I didn't want to see Amy driving someplace she wasn't quite sure about direction-wise on a holiday weekend on a busy Interstate with a carload of precious cargo. All of the what-if's began to creep through my brain. I felt better leading the way, giving her the GPS so she could learn the road and off we went, Adventure's in Odyssey set to play because we didn't want to get bored on the way there.

When the rain started just on the other side of Cumberland, I was glad I decided to go along. The large, looming dark clouds were visible as we made our way past Frostburg and looked even more ominous as we traveled through LaVale. What started as a light rain changed dramatically and quite unexpectedly as we drove beneath a bridge. As we emerged on the other side, it was like we went through some kind of time warp. To say "it was raining" is an understatement. It was raining cats and dogs, or as they say in Slovakia, Czech Republic: “Tractors are falling.” And how about Ireland where you might hear: “It’s throwing cobblers’ knives.” Interesting...

A little rain isn't too bad to drive in; actually I find it rather relaxing. This rain though? Not so much. As we slowed down to about 30-40mph, we noticed many cars pulled off to the side, 4-ways blinking. It took about another 100 yards or so and we joined the other cautious drivers to wait out the worst of it. 

We waited. We talked. We bonded. We waited some more and the rain just kept pounding down. I tried calling Amy's cell phone to see what she was thinking. No answer. I tried to text her. No response. I reached into the glove compartment for an umbrella, finally deciding to brave the elements and dash back to her car to see if how long she wanted to wait. Adrienne then volunteered to go. After all, if I got out on my side I might get run down by a passing car. I didn't need much convincing.

Carefully, trying to avoid getting wet Adrienne opened the umbrella with the car door just barely open. Already though, water rivulets were dripping down the inside of the door and she knew she would just have to make a run for it. Jumping out, she bravely held the umbrella up over her head where it promptly turned inside out, it's black covered spines jutting out every which way.

Laughter promptly erupted inside my car. Loud, easy laughter that makes it hard to breath. Oh, it was funny.

After Amy, Heather and Jennifer stopped laughing, Adrienne gathered the needed information, discovered Amy forgot her cell phone at home, then sopped her way back to my car and tried to get in. The still inside-out umbrella had other ideas. Not wanting to fold up (the umbrella, not her) she was left with one option. Hold it outside the window for a while, or at least until she she could get it folded back up again, then dry off with the blanket that resides in my trunk for moments such as these.

Ah, moments such as these. Ironic isn't it that the papers that got soaked when her car door was open were the theatre programs that were left there from that night we went and saw Singin' In The Rain. 

After calling my sister to let her know we were running a little behind schedule, it seemed the rain was going to let up. We ventured back out into traffic and went about a mile when we had to pull off again. Seriously. This rain was ridiculous. I don't know when I've driven in rain that crazy.

This time, I was the one to get out of the car with the possessed umbrella. I held onto it though and I hopped into the other car to talk. I thought I may as well learn something from Adrienne's drenching. The plan was this: As soon as it slowed down, we'd go again, just driving slow and staying in the slow lane. If Amy or her defrost which was acting up wasn't coping, she'd flash her lights at me.

And that's what we did. We all rolled along smoothly, taking our time as did most of the traffic around us. Well, except for one truck which kept me over in the slow lane which I didn't know was going to make me exit where I didn't want to exit until it was too late. Nothing like a little detour when you are already late. I ran back to Amy's car again. The GPS said to go 3.3 miles on this "detour"which actually ran parallel to the interstate and we could get back on track. Whew.



Remember the underpass time warp? About 8 miles from our destination, we went under another bridge and the rain stopped. Just like that. I really don't think my sister believed us. It was cloudy there, but dry. But there the cousins are, safe and sound. Even the drenched hippie chick.

Adrienne and I still had to drive home and we decided to fill up the car since we were at a gas station. The others had already left when the rain started again. When I tried to swipe my card at the pump, it wouldn't work because of the storm. I just hoped it was moving on down the road and not back in the direction we needed to go. I needed have worried. This was the view going home:

The moral to this little tale? 

Hmmm, let's see….

"Always keep an umbrella in your glove compartment and a blanket in your trunk."

Well, maybe. 

How about this:

"When in doubt, sit it out."

Now, that's a possibility. 

I know.

"The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain." ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

And thus we did.

Love, Dianne