happy birthday to a shooting star

We were sitting at the kitchen table, Mel and I, when a quick step sounded behind us, then passed us and was gone to the other side of the house. In that moment we'd both snapped our heads to the side to watch the figure whose step it was as it clipped past and followed it with our eyes until it was gone. 

Melody observed then, with her head on her hand, "Anne's just one of those people you whose personality you can't help watching." 

That was several years ago, yet it's a thing I've often called to mind, how true Milly's words were. A.G has one of those radiant personalities that we watch as closely as we would a comet or shooting star. {if you've seen her walk, then you know her pace nearly matches either of them.} She's one of those Bright People whose beauty shines from deep down and makes the rest of her fairly sparkle with loveliness. It's a loveliness too that makes other, shallow types whose Pretty is only skin deep, look shabby.  A.G reminds me {often with a pang of remorse and shame} that no matter how you patch up the outside, no amount of prinking will stand the test of beauty that comes from the soul. 

I'm thankful for this shooting star that I've been blessed to have as a sister and best friend for 23 years. She knits us all together and brings laughter and depth of thought; she challenges our ideas, habits and bodies {this you know right well if you've ever endured one of her grueling workouts}.  Though A.G loves to make everyone laugh,  no one laughs more effectively and heartily than Daddy does when A.G goads him.  He gets so tickled and merry when she turns over his laugh box that the house fairly rings out with hoots and shouts of laughter - not only his, but ours.  We laugh at Daddy laughing at Anne, because, really, there is nothing more laugh-provoking than Daddy when he's tickled. 

Happy Birthday, A.G - you bright, wonderful thing, you. 

home is a good place to be

"D'you get a hair cut, Brille?"
"Oh Abrum, you noticed!!!"
Chris looked up from his seat at the table as I flourished over to where Abe was sitting on the couch.  In typical fashion he was absorbed in reading an article.  I did a jig, partly in celebration of his keen observation and partly to see if I could  amuse him enough to get a smile out of him. I did get the smile and he said,
"Go on, kid, you're a nut."
"Tell me, Brumly, how could you tell?"  I sat on the cushion and looked inquiringly at him.
 "Well, they generally iron out your hair real good at those places once they've lopped off the hair."
"Dried it. Blow dried it," I told him. "It always makes my hair straight."

This morning Mama made breakfast. Her buttermilk biscuits and thick slices of bacon and daddy's fried eggs, gravy, homemade jellies and jams and - oh lands. It's good. The best part though was having ten people sitting around our table. Ten people that were very glad to be home and together. Daddy says we don't value peace like we ought to until we don't have it, or we see people who don't have it. Then we tend to be thankful again.  I want to be thankful for that peace all the time. Peace between God and me and between the people I love.  Daddy says it can't be taken for granted. We strive for it every day and hold it Precious and Valuable in our lives; we pray for it and live it, even when it's not easy to retain.
 I hope I can do that more.
That old septic tank, poor thing. It's been its lot in life to deal with the hard blows we give it. Well, it decided it'd had enough this weekend. So it stopped. Just plumb quit working, at least for a while. Thus, we washed dishes outside tonight. Anne handed me the water hose while she toted dishes in and out of the house. Jay came too with pots, whistling "Got A Whale of a Tale to Tell Ya Lads" and opening the door for Chris who toted more dishes in and more dishes out.

{Legend = Melody}
"I don't know why I've always liked putting things up my nose," Dawn said as we cleaned up the table tonight. "I just always have. Even when I was really little."
"Would you like having a nose ring, do you think, Dawn?" Chris asked.
"No.  There's a thought that Legend  put into my head not too long ago, that if you took the ring out and needed to blow your nose then the hole where the ring is would be like a whale when it blows water. That decided the issues of nose rings for me."
Chris' dark beard was spread all across his face in a large grin and his eyes weren't showing very much because they squint almost to closing when he laughs.

          ~ ^^ poor ole' Maple. may very well be the last spring she's with us, good ole' tree.^^~

        ^^ A.G and I are going to recreate Senior Photos with these new and improved poses. ^^

 ^the girls put a diaper on Jean Val Jean on account of the rain and him having been dropped into a puddle. by the way, these puddles have been around as long as our house and all of us have been alive. every rain they appear in our yard, and every rain we appear in them.

                             ^^ Jay's last night to be home…Gonna miss that boy.^^

"Loud sounds pups make," was 1. Across, Chris said. Merry and Jay huddled on the floor beside him as he read off clues for the crossword puzzle.
"Yips," I say from the couch between writing in the journal. Someone else offers "Yaps".
"Yep, Chris says. I think it's yaps. "Much trouble or confusion," he says.
From her room where Mama is in bed she says "Ado".
"Ah good one, Mama. That works.  I tell you what, ain't nothin' like a crossword puzzle to make you feel dumb."
"Man, I tell you what! I can't stand those things," said Daddy. "Make me see how daft I am right quick."
Something light rubbed my face as I was writing and something sounding like a cat was right at my ear. I turned and saw Jeremy in a white wig looking very much like a colonial redneck in a full cammo suit and that wig.  He spoke chinese about Oolong tea and sipped a little from his clay mug.
"Reads fast," Chris said.
"Pigs," Daddy rumbled from his chair.  Merry looked up at him like he was teasing and laughed.
"Oh Daddy, you're funny."
" Not enough space for rabbits, so it'd have to be pigs."
Merry looked very confused. "What daddy? Neither of those can read."
Now Daddy was the one who looked confused and said
"Well…he did say Breeds Fast, right?"
Merry's "Reads Fast" back to daddy was nearly swallowed in the burst of laughing that followed.  Daddy's face was his deep, hard laughing color again and, well, very few eyes of us were showing at all.

a good day's end

         "Rose!" Dawn shouts to Merry, whom she calls 'Rosamond', "I'm going to take a shower, and by the time I get out, you had better have made those chocolate chip cookies!"  But then she runs to Merria and puts an arm around her neck and says winkingly "I'z jest kiddn, kid.  We love you…now make us some good little cookies, Rosamond…"

It's old carpet and blue and very walked and sat and wrestled and laid on.  I sat on it, back to a doorframe and watched her play.  She's tough and short and spunky, and I love her. I love watching her play.  It's a doorway to her very soul, I think. D Formsma bakes cookies too, and the most steamy, crusty-on-the - outside- soft- on-the inside - kind of bread you ever tasted. And cinnamon rolls. But this day she was out of the kitchen and at the piano, just for me, and I felt as special as I should have at this token of kindness. She introduced to me Franz Liszt and his  "Three Concert Etudes S.144 No.3 "Un Sospiro".  I've never forgotten him since.

  It's not just the piece. It's the way she plays it that made all the hot wet things come splashing on my cheek and hands.  I love it now, for many reasons, and have listened to it over and over again today.

  Good old home. I'm glad to be back after a summer of traveling.  I love traveling, but you know, it's good to walk in and be home and to see and hear all the things of home that make it what it is…The smell, the creaky benches, the way the front door slams, the way the back door stays open because no one remembers to shut it; the faucet that, even though it's new, has now followed in the footsteps of its Elder Faucet and keeps sliding down and turning off, most inconveniently; the lantana that has bushed over the very mailbox and stretches itself in all directions, oblivious to its eccentricity and merely absorbing all the beautiful sunshine it can manage; the way the purple bathroom trashcan is forever being turned catty-cornered then straight again, and how the rug never stays in one place, because some like it by the toilet, others by the tub, others by the sink; the sunflower in the back yard that we watched and waited for, and is now here, tall and gangly; the way the school room fan bangs when it's on high and how the books keep trying to fall out of the bottom of the piano bench, because it's so full; the back closets - the closets at all - and how they have too much, and ever room for more; the oven with a broken handle, the teapot that gets turned on without any water; the perpetual pot of coffee; the crickets outside the windows at night and the way the summer light comes through the kitchen window in the evening…home is a wonderful place, nor would it be without its little imperfections. 

 Tonight at prayer it struck me again what an unworthy recipient of all my Father's goodness I am. 

Does He not daily, even moment by moment open the windows of heaven to pour out His kindnesses on my life and family?  Daddy took my hand and squeezed it in his big calloused one as I sat on the side of his chair {I declare, one day that chair is going to have a panic attack and fall apart}.  Everybody went around and prayed.  That quiet evening restfulness.  Our family with that Great and Kind Friend who is always with us.  I like the way daddy's stomach rises and falls under my hand when he's holding it and the way he keeps holding it, even when mine gets hot like it does, and I like how the whippoorwill who lives in the front yard's evergreen tree seems to know the right time to sing his sweet, melancholy summer song. 

Merria just came and gave me a thumb full of chocolate chip cookie dough.

"Without chocolate chips, just for you," she says. 

All in all, I'd say that's a Good Day's End.

full moon, mama's home, world is right, life is good.

just the way an early morning should be enjoyed.





::note::

milly = my term for melody

margaret = melody's term for Dawn
broge= dawn's term for me.

maher is our cat 

whose full name is

 Mahershalalhashbaz Spurgeon 

and

 who also

may have worms and

 who, furthermore, we have 
suspected of dying on us for some time now.

~~~~

This day {thank God} ends nearly a week of the Grey Submarine being emptied of some of its key ingredients: Merry, Mama and Melody.  Amazing what a hole one person can make in a family, let alone three!!!  Don't get me wrong, the remainder has survived considerably well: we had coffee brewing all week, Clyde and Sherri work to do, baked pumpkin cupcakes, went shopping {kroger, not clothes} and settled into our routine of threesomeness. But this is sure, there is just not the same atmosphere when Mama's not home. It's as true as all get out that she's the heart and life and vibrance of this home.

We don't get cell phones around here when we're infants.  We usually don't get them in our teens. We get them when the circumstances fall out that way.  The circumstances fell out that way for Anne and me to get ours last year, so we got them. Along with them, the fabled texting. That first night Mama, Daddy, Anne and I all sat in the living room sending texts to each other and laughing.   As it is, the other three girls use A.G and my phone interchangeably. Milly was coming home on the trip today and from Mama's phone she said:
"Is Marge around?  Is she able to be communicated with?"  Took the phone to Dawn who was shinnied up a tree.
 'Ah, Broge," she tilted her head and squinted her eyes, "Do I have to take that?  I'd have to get down and I've only been up a minute."
"Milly says she wants to talk to you.  So she swung down, took the phone, and when I got it back there was this conversation:

Milly:: Did anything come from Anthro for Mama?
Dawn:: Yes but I don,t know why were doing this infurnal texting bussieness
Milly:: Cause i didnt want to ask in front of the girls cause we're in the car. Can you put the box beside my chest and put the old cup in my top drawer?
Dawn:: ohta, anything else?
Milly:: you're a pal margaret thanks see you on a few hours. Are y'all going to 6 flag today?
Dawn:: Nope
Milly:: Ok has Maher died?
Dawn:: No
Milly:: Are the people coming tonight?
Milly:: Im glad Maher's not dead
Dawn:: I don,t know
Milly:: Ok see you in a while
Dawn:: Sure can I get back in me tree now?
Milly: Certainly Margaret go right ahead!

Anne and I read over Dawn's shoulder and Anne said matter of factly,
"Maher has been happy this week!"
"No he hasn't! He's been so dismal. Have you heard his meow lately? It's so raspy and he can barely croak one out."
Yes, Maher was dismal, and so were we, to some extent; but the fam's home, and this means that the world is set right again.

noah!!!

.take a lesson from this little man on the right way to eat a pumpkin spice cupcake.

^check out daddy's cauldron of chili…Ah!!! so good. nobody makes it like he does. 

and classic bro j telling fireman stories :)

happy night, happy bellies, happy people,

goodnight folks.

of madness and brumly.

In our family we firmly believe in butter, double dipping, and prefacing any story with topics, side stories, tidbits of information and observations, regrets and insecurities - relevant, or irrelevant - as long as it adds a little more spice, background, understanding or laughter to the subject. This last habit of heavily prefacing any story, fact or message was pointed out to us today at breakfast among eggs and buttermilk biscuits, coffee and fresh peach jams.  Unfortunately Daddy had just put some biscuit and jam in his mouth when Abraham began this observation and Daddy had to keep it there for the rest of the five or so minutes that Abe was talking because Daddy never stopped laughing long enough to swallow.
  "It's occurred to me," Abe began, "that it must be a family trait for us to heavily introduce any given subject. We can't just say 'Hey guess what?  Today I got hit by a car at 70 miles per hour!' We'd have to start, 'Well, I got up at five o'clock this morning, and if I hadn't been up at all hours last night, I probably wouldn't have had such a hard time waking up. But really I only drank one cup of coffee, when I should have drunk two - I promise I only drank one - and I started driving my way to work.  I decided about a week ago that I should be keeping up with some more people, so on the way to work I thought I should call so-and-so but while I was doing that the cd needed to be changed, so as I was trying to fix it, I suddenly looked up - and, you know how you have those moments of thinking to yourself right before something happens - I looked up and saw that truck coming towards me and I thought - well, I knew he must be going about 70 miles per hour and I thought - ….uh oh….'

 There are some times you must hold your own hand or your stomach or your knees or some other object because you're simply too tense and limp with laughter to do anything else. It was one of those times this morning because that hit us all square in the chest and realizing that if we ever did have to give a yes or no question it'd be like pulling nails.  That, plus the fact that poor daddy is about the only practical, yes or no person among us and that he's been in the clutch of people who will drag out a topic for however long it takes for them to examine every angle, savor every new glimpse of an old scene, turn over the same words, phrases, predicaments over and over, to where he is dazed in the repetitive grind and can no longer function, but was long lost in the maze of crossfires of winding thoughts and narratives.

   It's good to know these things about one's family, oneself.  I believe it aids in coping - in a small degree - to society and the world at large in recognizing them.

Mama made apple pie. I'm going to make another soon. Very.

summer grass and thoughts...

     Are our minds not incredible things?  We live with them for decades and become accustomed to the unruffled method of thinking.  We take it for granted that we've settled into the State of Being in that thought place, which we'll be forever. But then a passage in a book, an unexpected conversation, a scene of particularly blended, light, texture, pattern and we're spirited away, as it were, to tunnels of thought we never knew existed. Nor would we have ever thought to ask if they existed as the natures of these thought tunnels are so wholly unimaginable.  And so then, from those mind caverns which we find ourselves in, we concoct experiments, we imagine theories, and connect potential dots to puzzlements of life in general.  Could there be a whole part of our minds that is simply bursting with brilliance and new thoughts??? How many times have we dreamed of beautiful compositions - music we've never heard, places we've never seen and poems we've never read, yet when we wake up it's fresh, almost vivid and just beyond our grasp? …  How masterfully crafted, how intricately designed!  We live in them and are them, and yet, we learn from them, in a way, discovering and exploring their unknown wilderness.

   Today was grass cutting and I do believe cutting grass is not only therapeutic but inspirational. I made two important discoveries today, namely:

* the combination of a hint of sweet grass, crushed {aged} pine cones, a pinch of summer dust and a little dab of lawnmower engine scent, would make an excellent cologne.
* i can pressure wash the dirt from my nails much more easily, quickly and comfortably than I can attempt to remove all such matter with jabby metal points.

 Oh goodness!!! the preacher was right when he said "Vaniy and vexation of spirit"!…That's all this world is! But thanks be to God our Father for His unspeakable gift and that He's begotten us unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

 Heaven is going to be so good. 

So. good.

if i were a rabbit i would run here.

...daddy's tomatoes…

please note the dirt line. one of the dirtiest mowings yet, for some reason.

thoughts upon my bed before drifting into oblivion.

i hope this isn't terribly wicked of me, but i sometimes put on a recorded sermon to go to sleep by.  i have sometimes thought of telling this to some of my favorites as an encouraging bit of information, but even as the words would be about to slip away from my mouth into the air, i'd realize how rude that could sound.  of course, in the way i mean it, it is actually a complement. the fact that i enjoy going to sleep by their preaching as opposed to a favorite artist would - i'd think - be nice to hear. perhaps this is one of those things about being a pk. odd enough to create strange habits, normal enough to cope somewhat with society.  we have cleaned since 10.00 this morning, but here, at 10.30 tonight i put my foot down and have taken a shower and am going to bed. cleaning is good. gives satisfaction, especially when doing it because people you love will be reaping the benefit of it...in just a few days, Lord willing, this house will be buzzing. if we don't all completely evaporate, that is.  this swelteringly hot days, broiling sun, sweltering heat...all i can say is, praise God for sweat and air conditioning.
   camp was wonderful, by the way. so much about camp has shaped my life - so many of the people and traditions and sermons and experiences. so thankful for that place. goodnight.

kathryn and kathryn.

saturday

today was absolutely gorgeous. i stayed outside as much as possible and even though our bamboo was chopped down by the hands of angelot, it didn't deter me from taking my usual position in the front side yard beside the now gaping openness of our yard and hers. i wrote and read and was productive, even with them staring at our zoo from their lawn chairs.  

fitly dubbed by jeremy, 'annsanity'

the exception being tuesday

NOTE. this was written on tuesday even though it's labeled as wednesday and this is for the simple reason that it actually was posted on wednesday. at's what happens when you fall asleep at night instead of finishing blog posts.


for it was exceptional.  i liked everything about today.  i liked the weather - chilly and sweet and fresh. i liked my work, the people i worked with, the people i talked to, the brew of coffee i had.  i liked being by myself for part of the day, and mixing with people the other part of it. it's just been a very good day. and i like that.
  this morning i rode in an ambulance - a retired one, at least. but i had never done that before, and for some reason it felt momentous. i met all of anne's bcm friends on their last night of the season and that was climatic.
at supper the other night daddy got cracked up about a birthday card he almost got for u.z but didn't.  he said he really just couldn't, and he never told us what it was, but for about 10 minutes he was on and off laughing so hard he couldn't swallow and was turning red.  but he always does that when he laughs hard.

 dawn making hobo-glyphics.

  

the hobo party was ridiculously fun.  i might post more pictures later but for now, so long.