A Choice

Today a wise mama posted words hit me like a bat to the head.  A well needed blow may I add.  One of my favorite bloggers, Nici from Dig this Chick, wrote an amazing, mind-blowing entry about making choices in her life.  Finding balance. Being present. 

"My daughters have helped me remember that we have choices about most things. Feeling panicked or overwhelmed is a choice."

Since this summer, I have felt overwhelmed from the present.  My father-in-law suffered a second major stroke at the same time our house was torn to shreds for massive renovations. Two factors of my life that I relate to stability and to endless joy became anything but solid.  The physical changes planted a seed of upheaval within me. I let it establish strong roots.  

I masked the anxiety this summer by enjoying the time living on the boat and then spent away on vacations.  But as fall replaced summer I felt the weight of supporting my family through my husband’s reeducation stack on the mounding pressures.  And then I let everything get to me - deciding Alex’s future schooling, my Dad’s health concerns, my father-in-law’s progress, my pending job changes, and money.  I was numb and exhausted.  I could not enjoy my frequent visits to Pennsylvania, seeing that my attention was focused on attending to family needs. I walked away from simple pleasures including posting on this blog, and then felt guilty for dropping it.

And then it took 7 simple words - feeling panicked and overwhelmed is a choice - to sucker-punch me out of my fog.  Holy shit.  It was my choice. It is my choice.  I need to look at those words every day.  I need to remember that I alone decide to be present or not.  

Yesterday I took advantage of an extremely mild day in mid-November to walk to lunch versus a quick drive.  And I was enjoying the warmth, I thought about the book One Thousand Gifts, and how I never started recording my gifts of the every day in a journal.  Then I thought that my first blessing to record should be: Walking on a sunny, mild day. I can see that the healing started yesterday.  I know that I'm capable.

:: July Recap ::

Ben and I were asked once again to drive the Faces of Valor mobile in the Galesville, MD 4th of July parade.  Our little Statue of Liberty was as popular as the car.

I made her costume last summer from a small sheet, 1/2 yard of 1" foam, a bit of dye, a sharpie pen, and sharp sheers.  Who knew it would get so much mileage.

:: Martha's Vineyard ::

There's still something rustic and unpolished about the island of Martha's Vineyard, MA.

It's where I grew up as a teen.  It's where we got married 20 years ago.  It's where I share space with my dearest of friends who opens her vacation to us every summer. I know that roaming here with her by my side is a blessing. A gift.

We gladly trade television for nature's creatures at low tide. Every single day.

Grey proves year-after-year that he has the special touch with the local creatures.

:: Long Point Beach - how I have a crush on you. Shallow freshwater lagoon on one side and the blue Atlantic ocean on the other; with the two waters separated by a strip of dunes and a lot of poison ivy. The space beacons that you bring it all - shovels, toys, and colorful beach umbrellas.

:: Chappaquiddick - a new adventure for us.  A local island, accessed by a fast boat ride. Without cars, the island can only be discovered by foot. We gladly obliged.

:: There's a natural connection between our three children.  They will grow up knowing each other and remembering all the crazy moments.

I love this place so much. It makes my soul swim in deep happiness.

And looking back tonight reminds me that life will fall in place as it ebbs and flows. And that I have the choice to control my perspective.  I'm not saying that I will ignore the need to worry about the details, but I cannot allow it to control my reality. The one that I appreciate so.

1. Taking a walk on a mild fall day.

2. Gathering leaves.

3. Sleeping next to my daughter.

4. Fresh roasted coffee with cream.

Hiding Treasure

Hun`ker Down (v.): To Take shelter, literally or figuratively; to assume a defensive position to resist difficulties.

I found this little guy on my stoop the day before the hurricane.

Seems to be a theme around our homestead this week - Hunkering Down.  First a 5.9 Earthquake on Tuesday and now a Category 2 Hurricane. And just incase you're not keeping score - God: 2. People: 0.


The earthquake on Tuesday was a first for our family and rattled more than the foundation.  When the house started to shake, I assumed that the washer was out of balance, but the problem was that no laundry was in the wash and the shaking escalated.  I stood up from my perch at the table (working remotely that day) and started to yell for Ben, unable to comprehend WHAT was happening.  Ben unfortunately was taking a shower, and the impact tossed him from wall-to-wall, forcing him to abandon the bath.  His experience on the 4th floor was vastly different than mine, seeing that the house was swaying side to side.  Freaky. Immediate. Complete.


Insert second act of God within a week: hurricane Irene.  This activity seems to be more our speed - wet, windy, and a system that gives us enough time to prepare.

The banana bread was supposed to be for the weekend, but at 8am, only 2" remain. Tested this recipe and added 1/2 C of chopped nuts and 1/2 C mini morsels. Heaven!

Ben completed preparing the boats by Friday morning, and we took cover with a house full of water and food and of friends and activities.  I wanted to make a Dark & Stormy in honor, but strawberry shortcake seems to be more my speed.

I won't lie.  It was fanDAMNtastic.

::
What I learned from the hurricane experience is not that we can easily weather a storm, but how much we as a community seemed to struggle without power. We were unplugged for 2 days - no power, no warm showers, no internet.  When I camp, I expect the unplugged factor and relish it.  Not so much with a house.  I do not like the sense of camping out in a modern abode.  It's just not my thing, and after a couple of days, the lack of conveniences compounded with PMS lead me to believe that everyone driving near me was a moron…but power is restored and so are healthy attitudes.
(Thanks to Shannon and Mark for inviting us over last night for power, showers, food, and internet.)
::
We are still taking in our bounty.  My windowsill is lined with tomatoes, and this week we enjoyed some carmelized sauteed carrots. Mmm..

I still have much to learn about veggie gardening, including why a crop of beets just fail to swell.  But the tomatoes delivered this year.  I lost count of the number of salads made with tomato, basil, & mozzarella in the past week, and after making sauce from scratch, I'm scheming to get my hands on a bushel of tomatoes in the next few weeks.
::
Our August Saturday nights have been simply amazing, breathtaking.  Mild evenings filled with golden sun, laughter, & low humidity; a rare treasure of atmosphere.

Captain Fabulous behind the grill.

perfect for celebrating with family and friends.

I simply adore my nieces.  I still can't believe they're almost grown up, and here I've held them since they were infants. We enjoyed time spent running through the woods, conversing (be that it's mature or immature topics), sailing, and swimming.  But where I see the shift is that it's less about teaching them and more about being there for them.  Sarah alone will be 16 in a week. Wow.

They love their littlest cousin who is finally less of a baby and more of a girl.

And that girl shares a special bond. She's a magician at making this strong man so vulnerable.

::
Last weekend Jana & Mike visited. Really, I don't need a reason to invite gaggles of friends over to enjoy, but hey, I'll say that Jana & Mike were my excuse.

Jana and Alex.

I love Jana's big, full-of-life, relaxed heart.

And watching friends making new connections.

And seeing kids absorb a summertime experience in their own unique manner.

Maybe it's the end of summer or the realization that that Alex is starting preschool next week.  But I'm becoming so sentimental about this moment in time. 


Taking cues from Alex, I want to fold summer into my pocket, squirreling it away with a treasure of stones, shells, and pennies; only to unwrap it in January, preserving and enjoying the essence of the present.

A Good (normal) Life

It's been a great week.

Well hello eggs. I am so happy to see you too!

Really when you get your dinner smiling back at you on hump day, you know it's all good. It's been a week of breaking, growing, harvesting, and exploring. An (extra)ordinary week of the cream rising to the top.  
::
Speaking of eggs and cream, Alex and I spent some time in the kitchen making cupcakes.

She's got the baking gene from scores of women in my family.  It's amazing to see that passion unfold to a 4th generation.

Alex takes licking the bowl to the edge of drunk.

I wonder at what age my independent princess is going to take charge of baking projects all by herself.  I was 5, trying to make brownies.  I had the double-boiler set up and I lifted the bowl of the boiler, and placed the chocolate and butter into the water.

Yes, Mom had to come to the rescue, but I remember the pride of wanting to do it all by myself.
::
We harvested our first potatoes.  

There's nothing like having a princess/Glinda/beauty join you in the garden. I never look this good while mastering dirt and roots.

I am very satisfied with the grow bag that I used for the spuds. The best feature: harvesting equates to dumping the contents onto a tarp, digging for gold, and then replacing the soil back into the bag.

We took our harvest back inside to make my Grandma Lyle's potatoes.  Bacon, onions, potatoes.  Mmmm…memories.

Some days I struggle with sharing my small kitchen.  I think it's more the concern of Alex hurting herself with one of the knives, the stove, or a hot pot than it is for the inconvenience.  The bite has made me  exceptionally wary of potential situations.  

I am not the overly cautious type, so I fight fears that cramp my mama vibe and give her the necessary space to mimic.  And as our arms entwine around a pile of sliced potatoes, we both learn to compromise.  I put my fears back on a shelf and give her the space to imitate with a play knife from her kitchen. 
::
Last week, a quirky little carnival was in town at the Knights of Columbus.  It's just big enough to thrill everyone with sounds and smells and tastes of childhood. 

Add carnivals and cotton candy to all things that make me savor summer.

On the other hand, Ben and Chera relish funnel cake. They were like 2 little kids on Christmas Eve, watching the cake being poured & frying to a golden brown.  The powdered sugar was flowing and then flicking into the air, smattering Bram and my camera with white flakes.

"Jen is this enough sugar?  How about now? Ok, maybe just a bit more."

Bram and Alex are getting so big.  Bram, I cannot believe that you're almost 2. You are so precious.
And this carnival was their first time experiencing swirling, whirling rides. Bram tested out the ferris wheel and Alex repeatedly begged to go on the Sizzler (reminds me of the egg beater).  The strange, but funny moment for the adults happened when Alex and I were going on the Sizzler.  Ben always jokes about the culture of carnies, but the gentleman attending to the Sizzler was stoned straight out of his mind. I think that I gave birth in less time than it took him to get the ride prepared. Oh boy.

Before leaving the carnival at a rock-the-house-hour of 8pm, Alex and Bram won fish.

And so both went home with their new pets, both aptly named Dorothy.

So even though work was profuse in volume and agitating at that, I end the week with my head teeming with moments of dirt & giggling and of friends & fish. It is life, the space with family and friends that forces the cream to rise to the top every time.

“I want a life that sizzles and pops and makes me laugh out loud. I want to eat cold tangerines and sing out loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down, and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that he gave life to someone who loves the gift." - “Cold Tangerines" by Shauna Niequist.