There's No Place Like Home

Fourteen years ago today we closed on our house in the southwest burbs and Phillip carried me across the threshold to begin our Chicagoland adventure. In a few days we will leave this place for good. Ironically, the person who took the picture below fourteen years ago ended up being our real estate agent for the sale of our house this year. He wasn't a realtor back in 1999 but a friend, and he has remained one throughout our time here. How fitting that when we drive away we will leave our keys with him.

Our time in this house has always been, uh, shall we say, a bit complicated. It was definitely one of those love-hate relationships! We are not fixer-uppers and it turned out there was a lot about our new home that needed fixing up. Still, we learned to love her. Our children have spent the majority of their childhood years within these walls. Phillip and I have both lived here longer than in any other house our entire lives. Fourteen years adds up to a lot of memories. Those memories come with small print identifying the time and the place, and it is hard to leave the place behind without feeling as though you are also in some part letting go of the memory.

In another bit of symmetry, we are leaving Illinois a little over 20 years after coming here, and we are heading back to our southern roots. Leaving Texas was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I had a 10-month old baby and my father was very ill. Taking that baby and kissing his grandpa goodbye to move 900 miles away just about ripped my heart out. My dad died less than a year after we left Texas. But I know that coming to Illinois was the right thing at that time. I will never forget our first Christmas Eve at Trinity Lutheran in Peoria. Leaving midnight mass in an historic downtown church to a gently falling snow made this Texas girl feel like a character in a storybook. How fitting that as I write this, a New Year's Eve snow of 4-8 inches is predicted. Thank you, Old Man Winter. We'll miss you, too. And forever and ever I will look back on our Illinois story sort of like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz:

"But it wasn't a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you . . . and you were there. . . . and I remember some of it wasn't very nice, but most of it was beautiful--but just the same all I kept saying to everybody was 'I want to go home,' and they sent me home!"

Home, of course, is where your people are, and for us Illinois has been home for a very long time. Still, I do sort of feel like we're leaving the Emerald City to go back to Kansas (or in our case, Oklahoma), and I am very much looking forward to a quieter, simpler, slower, less technicolor life with all my dear ones gathered round. I pray wherever you are that you, too, wake up to a lovely, promising new year. See you in 2014!

"Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass." - Psalm 37:5

Last Walk

Today Phillip, Trevor, Caitlin and I took one final walk together in Illinois. Evan decided to stay home, which turned out to be a good thing, because this was almost a two-hour walk. We covered most of the ground we have trod for 14 years now, heading first to a park and then to a nature preserve not far from our house. We took Willard, our dog, with us. Willard is the third of our dogs to walk these paths (the first was Giselle, who came with us from Texas, and the second was Shiloh, who lived all of her nine years in Illinois).

Have you ever watched Survivor? We haven't watched it for some years now, but we used to. Toward the end of each season, the last few, remaining survivors take a final walk on which they stop, in turn, at torches representing the already eliminated players. At each torch they share a few words of remembrance about that player. We decided to spend our last walk in the Chicago suburbs similarly, pausing at favorite stops as we reviewed our time here. We spent the first half of our walk on the years 2000-2005, and the second half on 2006-2011. We ran out of time for 2012 and 2013 but decided that was a good thing since those years are still quite fresh (in some cases, too fresh). It was fitting that we had our two adult children on this farewell walk, as they were with us when we came to Chicago. We kicked off our northern Illinois adventure with a seven and four-year-old; we leave it with a twenty-one, eighteen, and ten-year-old. 

The pond.

Walking to the trout farm.

At the trout farm.

Heading back.

With the one who doesn't let me fall.

Home--for about one more week.

Christmas Day 2013

 Yay! Dad is home!

  I gave him a 23 and Me kit. (Caitlin looks like she is mad. She is not.)

That's a Wii U. That's a happy Evan.

 Thanks, Dad.

Willard, captive.

What every church worker needs: "The Art of Stress-Free Productivity." 

Thanks, Caitlin!

New Magic School Bus book from big sis.

I got a Keurig coffeemaker! (Thanks, honey!)

Phillip modeling the wrapping paper.

Father and daughter.

We had a joyous Christmas reunion. Phillip got home at about 4:00 Christmas Day. We enjoyed wassail and appetizers (shrimp, cheese and crackers) and then sat down for present opening (thank you to Evan for the chocolates, Trevor for the necklace, Caitlin for the gloves, and Mom for the slippers!) Then we chowed down on strip steaks, asparagus, and apple pie a la mode. Hard to believe this is our last Christmas in this house. One week from today the packers come. Two weeks from today we will be in our new home. I am practicing relaxation breathing, trying to enjoy one more day of Christmas before I turn to intense moving prep. Merry Christmas to all my readers! Thank you for your concern, interest, and prayers throughout the year. I hope that from time to time something I have written has provided you with a measure of encouragement or insight. I am humbled that you take the time to read. God bless you on this Feast of St. Stephen and throughout all the twelve days of Christmas and beyond!

On Flying

I have had to take a few more plane trips than usual this past year. It seems to be getting easier. When I was young I had no fear of air travel. I think I can pinpoint when that started to change. At the time I was pregnant with my first child and teaching high school English. I was also helping out the school's choir as a piano accompanist. When they took a trip to a choral festival in Colorado, I was invited to go along. The return flight was one of the scariest I have ever experienced: extreme, bumpy turbulence with roller-coaster style ups and downs. Many of the students seemed oblivious, but I remember catching the eye of the choir director. He was nervous, too. I was never so glad to get off a plane.

Between that flight and becoming a mommy, my fear of flying got progressively worse for many years, to the point that if I knew I was going to fly I would ask the doctor to prescribe a medicinal aid. But in the last year it seems my fear has lessened slightly. Let me emphasize the word slightly. I am still a very nervous flyer. I experienced it again a few days ago flying to and from Oklahoma for our house-hunting weekend. I try very hard to hide my fear from the 10-year-old sitting next to me. But as soon as the plane starts to taxi I start to pray, and I pray until we're in the air and many more times during the rest of the flight. I think the root of my fear is the sense of powerlessness that comes with flying. I like to be in control. When you're on a plane, there is no control. You are at the mercy of the machine and the guy piloting it (not to mention the weather and the other people on the plane). There is nothing to do but sit, hope, wait, and pray until you are once again on solid ground.

I had the thought while flying this week that I could learn something about life from how I feel when I fly. You see, I have this silly notion that in my everyday life I'm in control--that I can do it without God. Whether it's attending to my various vocations or attending to my own salvation, I fall into the trap of thinking I can manage things myself. Once in a while my life's plane takes a nauseating dive and I remember how powerless I am. But when smooth sailing returns I again start thinking to myself, "I've got this."

But I don't have this, any more than I have the power to keep a real plane from crashing. I don't want to go through life with white knuckles, clutching the arm rests, stomach churning in fear at each little bump. But if I were to spend my days as I spend my time on planes, in fervent, unceasing prayer, maybe I would be able to relax and enjoy the view a little more often.

Christmas Miracles

I know the "Christmas miracle" is a Hollywood creation, and the true Christmas miracle was a virgin birth over 2000 years ago, but we have experienced several bits of extra good news this month. For those who may not have heard all of them, here goes.

1) We have a house! Feast your eyes. :-)

We have decided to rent for now. The pool of homes for sale that fit our needs, wants, and price range is pretty small right now. We narrowed down to a couple of options, looked at those, and decided we weren't up to the task of making them immediately inhabitable. So we turned to the rental market. That pool is also fairly small. We looked at two houses in Tulsa and two in Broken Arrow. Both houses in Tulsa could have worked for us. One was an older midtown home with a lot of character; the other was a newer home with a lot of square footage. Neither was ideal, though, and both would have meant a 20-25 minute drive to church. That is less than desirable for people whose lives revolve around church. So we turned to the Broken Arrow options. One of them had five bedrooms, which would have been great for bunking purposes when everyone is home, but it was lacking in living space and in need of much cleaning and repair. The property manager did not leave us feeling confident that either would be adequately done. So at 7:00 p.m. this past Friday night we nervously headed to the last house on the list.

Oh, my. It was lovely. A little smaller than we would like, but truly a beautiful home, built in 2000 and in mint condition. The current occupants are moving back to their home state of Texas and we enjoyed chatting with them as we looked at the house. We knew within a few minutes that this was the house for us. Not only is it in excellent condition, with the floor plan we need (a suitable bedroom and bath on the main floor for my mom), but it comes with all appliances in new or newer condition. (All of our appliances are remaining with our house in Illinois.) It even comes with patio furniture, flat screen TV in the master bedroom, and bar stools (I kid you not)! It is almost too good to be true. There is a nice-sized, fenced yard (which we need for the dog) and a pretty neighborhood park within walking distance. Church is 10-12 minutes away. Between the charming young couple (with adorable newborn and cute Yorkshire terrier) from Texas and the fact that the house just came up for rent this week and we were the first people to look at it, we are convinced this was a "God thing." I know--everything is a God thing. But this was really a GOD THING. We snatched up that house on the spot, and because we are renting, not buying, and we don't have to be at the closing on our own house, we will be able to move even sooner than we had originally thought (probably the first week of January). Oklahoma, here we come!

2) Caitlin has been accepted to her first choice of college, Truman State University in Kirksville, MO. They have offered her $10,000 up front with the possibility of more money later when the competitive scholarship review begins. Truman was recently ranked #12 on the Kiplinger list of best values in public colleges in the U.S.  Caitlin is very excited about the prospect of attending there, and they have been extremely attentive to her in the admissions process, calling on the phone (multiple times), sending handwritten notes, and now, processing her application and sending her initial offer with great speed. I think the odds are good we will be moving some boxes to Missouri in August of 2014 (sniff).

3) My mom recently took another fall, but after a four-night hospital stay and thorough once-over she is back home and doing fine. As best we can tell, she had a fainting spell due to a urinary tract infection. She got quite a bump on her head and a nasty tear on her hand, but we are thankful that nothing was broken. Considering what she has gone through the last week, she is in excellent spirits. Anyone reading who knows me well knows that the preceding sentence is something of a miracle. My mom was so sad for such a long time--I am still pinching myself at the change she has undergone since her surgery in September. I am having to relearn the way I interact with her. Protective walls don't come down overnight, but we are working on it and slowly remembering what it's like to be mother and daughter.

I am in Oklahoma right now but heading home tomorrow. Then it will be time to pick up Trevor and get ready for Christmas! Phillip will be home the week between Christmas and New Year's. We hope to move in early January. Maybe in 2014 you will see me writing less about our day-to-day struggles and more about ideas. I do still have them, sometimes.

Blessed Gaudete Sunday!

Telling the Next Generation

Shared by a friend.


 For those reading who may not know, the video to which this adorable young man is listening is of my husband leading the Advent hymn "Prepare the Royal Highway" at a former congregation a few years back. The video is precious to me not only for the music and my husband's presence in it but also because it hearkens back to a time when we were all in church together during Advent. In the video my daughter is acolyting and my older son is helping my younger son sing from the hymnal. I also enjoy seeing the faces of some dear friends that we don't get to see anymore. I am so glad I took this video that Wednesday evening three years ago. What a gift it continues to be to me and to so many others.



Prepare the Royal Highway - Lutheran Service Book 343 from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Rejoice, rejoice . . . Who?

I ran across this fun article linking Christmas carols and grammar. It got me to thinking about one of my pet peeves: the way the Advent hymn "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is typically sung. The refrain of that hymn is as follows:

"Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel!"

Most people understandably tend to breathe after the word "Emmanuel." It's the end of a line, right? And in most musical settings the last syllable of the word occurs on a longer, held note. It's a natural place to breathe. The problem is that when one breathes there, the sense of the line is confused and it sounds like we are telling Emmanuel to rejoice instead of telling Israel to rejoice because Emmanuel is coming.

For this reason, I prefer the musical setting of this hymn in which the "-el" of "Emmanuel" is given only an eighth note and is followed by a series of eighth notes that carry through to the final syllable of the final word. Keeping the rhythm moving more effectively preserves the meaning of the line. Then a quick breath can be taken at the comma after the word "thee." A skillful lead musician will make sure the accompaniment supports this approach, allowing time for the singers to breathe at the comma.

The likelihood, though, is that this Advent you and I will sing the setting of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" that has a long note at the end of the first line. In that case, I encourage you to do what I do. Take a nice, deep breath after the second "Rejoice" and try to sing all the way to "thee" on that one breath. After "thee" take a quick catch breath to finish the refrain. You may be the only one holding out that "el" but you can pat yourself on the back for doing your part to preserve the poetry of the hymn. And who knows, maybe you will start a new trend!

Still Waiting

I woke up thinking about this post from a few months ago. I guess I am already in the Advent spirit, since it seems we are still waiting! We are no longer waiting on my mom's surgery and recovery, thanks be to God. Her surgery was successful and her recovery is well under way. We are, however, still waiting for a closing and a move, and the reuniting of our family. 

I have thought for a long time now that I need to somehow come to terms with the waiting game. I guess our whole lives are to some extent one big long wait. We wait for birthdays and holidays, for weddings and births, for graduations and job offers, for college acceptance letters and ACT scores, for paychecks (especially if you're a self-employed musician ;-)) and home sales, for diagnoses and cures. Sometimes we end up waiting for a very long time, as the job goes to someone else, the home doesn't sell, the apology doesn't come, forgiveness is not offered, or we are told there is no cure. I am not sure, though, how to be at peace with that sort of waiting. I can't seem to do it. I wait and worry and obsess and cry and ask, "How long, Lord? How long?"

But in Advent I am reminded that while this world is one big wait, the kingdom of God is not. While we wait for the kingdom of God in its fullness on the last day, we as redeemed children of God live in that kingdom right now, today, enjoying all of its goodness and blessing. In the bulletin at church yesterday there was a reminder of the threefold meaning of Advent:

Christ came to redeem us.

Christ still comes to deliver His salvation.

Christ will come again to take us home.

As we go through our days of waiting for earthly answers, we can know that Christ has come, is coming to us now, and will come to us for eternity on that final, glorious day. Isn't it just like Jesus to not make us wait for him as we wait for all the other things of life, but to come to us today, offering himself freely to undeserving sinners like us? I guess with Jesus at my side I can wait a little longer for the rest of it. :-)

The Week

Trevor is home! Phillip will be home tomorrow night. Both of them have to leave again Saturday, so with fewer people around to eat leftovers, Thanksgiving dinner will be scaled back this year. I bought a spiral-spliced ham, the smallest I could find, and a French silk pie at the Jewel bakery. I will make our customary deviled eggs along with several other side dishes. That's it. Thanksgiving morning we are going to worship with our Trinity-Tinley Park family and in the evening we are invited to the home of some dear friends. It should be a nice day.

The house sale is proceeding, although we still haven't nailed down a closing date. We do know that it will be in January. We would like something earlier; the buyers would like later. I'm sure we'll find a date we can all live with. God willing, we'll be in Oklahoma by the first of February. Six months apart is six months too long.

Several days ago I received terrible news about one of my oldest friends. As I understand it, on Monday of last week she fell off a six-foot ladder and lacerated her head. She was treated and sent home but within days was back in the ER, where she was ultimately diagnosed with necrotizing fasciitis. In the last four days she has had four surgeries (called "debridements") to remove necrotized (dead) tissue from her head, neck, shoulders, and chest. More debridements may be necessary. Right now her friends and family are praying for her survival, as 25-40% percent of people who contract this rare condition die from it, even with treatment. Those who survive face a long, painful recovery along with skin grafts and plastic surgery in the affected areas. My heart breaks for my friend and her family.

Here is a picture of me and Shelley from high school.

Here's a picture from about three years ago:

And here's an article about necrotizing fasciitis. If you are not familiar with this killer, please read and become informed now. It is rare, but no one is safe from it, and the best chance for surviving and avoiding the extensive surgical removal of diseased flesh or even limbs is to diagnose and treat it early and aggressively. The primary warning sign is pain that seems out of proportion for the injury. After her initial treatment my friend returned to the doctor with pain and swelling and was given pain medication and steroids and sent home. Her condition worsened and by the time she went back to the ER she was in septic shock with respiratory distress. I can't help wondering how much better her condition might be today if she had been properly diagnosed on her first return visit.

Trevor, Caitlin and I are going to see Catching Fire tomorrow. I also want to see The Book Thief. I am curious how that book is going to make the transition to screen, since I have a hard time envisioning Hollywood's managing to preserve Death as the narrator.

Caitlin is working on her college applications. As we did with Trevor, we are starting to get a "feeling" about one of the schools on her list. That school seems to have the same feeling about her, as the correspondence from their admissions office has kicked into high gear. It is so exciting to see my daughter dreaming about the next stage of her life. I am refusing to think about a day in August of 2014 when we will drop her in a dorm room and return to a house that will then be emptier by two. . . .

Then there's Evan. A little while ago he asked, "Mom, can you get me some socks?" I told him, "Evan, I think you can get your own socks." He replied, "OH, YEAH. I keep forgetting I'm ten years old!" And here I thought I was the one who was an expert at selective amnesia.

Word Fun

So, if you're on Facebook you may have bumped into the latest viral rage. It's called "What Would I Say"  and is a Facebook app that generates automated posts by searching your Facebook account and randomly putting your words and phrases together in new combinations. The results are hilarious. Here are some of the statuses my "CherylBot" came up with yesterday. If you're not on Facebook, this will give you an idea of what I tend to share there, albeit a twisted one.

You know those onesided conversations can sell the house.

I was walking down time before the piano students come.

Packed morning and afternoon with a 9-year-old who has Obama totally unresponsive. I called the doctor.

It has become politically correct, including the hymn festival at our hotel this morning.

Caitlin, who usually takes the magazine rack at Walmart at the conclusion of the scars they left behind me. 

God always behaves like us if we go to see him with accumulated AA credit card.

I have pretty hair tips.

I have subscribed to the vanity front. But never around Washington, D.C.

Carole, I am being reunited. That's a pain!

Pamela, that is Biblically inaccurate.

Wonder why Jesus doesn't seem to have been terrorized.

Survived junior high. Evan is not eating Halloween for years.

I understand the concept of those who would see fewer names than washing them. Just so everyone knows, though, I'd like to live in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him in the oven before preheating it to the pool!

Default. Failure to go to bed, oversize shower, sitting by 7:00 a.m.!

Behold, his crate last night was our first night without crying!

Phillip will bow down toward your holy temple in its totality. Isn't an option.

I have rolled back in, the chili is bubbling in his crate for his plane tickets last night and he will both lie down and Animal Farm will wait a few days of his typically petulant, petty, rude and interrupting a piano competition playing the problem that is in my absence. Everything looks on the tower, and out of time to be at feet. Late service. Ahhhhhh.

Sleep well, Homeland Security! Goodnight, NSA, FBI, EPA and that is nuts, Paul.

And now you know me better.

Readaloud Dilemma

We finished The Adventures of Tom Sawyer today. Yes, it took us a while. We savor our books. :-)

Here are a couple of pictures I took of Evan and Willard while I was reading. (Notice who is on the blanket. Willard loves readaloud time.) The second picture captures the moment they turned to look at me after I took the first one.

Back to our readaloud. Today Tom and Huck found the robbers' hideout, along with their supplies, and--let us not forget!--the treasure. This discovery led to a discussion of robbers and their practices, as Tom and Huck made plans to inaugurate their own prepubescent gang of criminals. (For those who have never "met" Tom Sawyer, it is probably good to interject here that Tom's boyish imagination knows no bounds.) The conversation covered the important points of killing all the men but being gracious toward the women--so that they will fall in love with you, of course--and then wrapped up thus:

"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck.

"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies."

At this point Evan broke out into loud, sustained laughter punctuated by repetitions of the sentences "We'll hold our orgies there!" and "It's an awful snug place for orgies!" Finally the guffaws subsided and he turned to me and asked, "What's an orgy?" I continued reading.

"What's orgies?" [said Huck].

"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we get to the skiff."

Such is the adventure of reading aloud. Sometimes you stumble on things you're not quite expecting (even if you've read the book before)! I told Evan that an orgy was kind of like a party--but a party where people get carried away and eat and drink too much, so not a very nice party. The problem with this definition (which is not incorrect) is that it excludes the more common modern usage of the term, the one everyone thinks of when he hears the word. But I don't want to tell my child that meaning yet! Which, of course, opens up the possibility that he'll decide to show off his new word at a less-than-opportune time. Oh, Tom, dear Tom--you just love complicating things, don't you?

Cooking with Evan

My posts of late have mostly been of the "daily life" variety. I'm not sure if that is due to my dwindling ability to write more complex, thoughtful pieces or to the fact that our family continues to live in three separate states and my priority right now is to document what is going on in Illinois for those who are not here. It is probably both. At any rate, here is yet another "what we've been doing" post. A few days ago Evan decided he wanted to do some cooking. I provided him with a few recipe books and he chose for his project "Company Beef Casserole." We had fun whipping this up last night!

Layering in the ingredients.

The best part of cooking is tasting!

Ready for the oven.

Milk for Evan, wine for Mom. :-)

Learning from the Master

"Where do you want to go for supper tonight, Evan?"

"Wherever you want, sweetie!"

Summer of 2012

If Only

"Mom, did you have amnesia again last night?"

"No, honey, but maybe if I had I would have gotten a little sleep!"

(Note: This exchange occurred yesterday. I slept better last night, thanks be to God!)

Science Fail

Evan and I had chemistry class today. Chemistry class right now consists of his Magic School Bus Chemistry Kit.

Today we did card #29, a demonstration of the bonding behavior of water molecules. In this lab activity, the young scientist counts the number of drops of water he can place on top of a penny before the water spills over the side. He then repeats the process, but first he puts a drop of liquid dish soap on the penny. I sat beside Evan as he followed the instructions, and I saw nothing amiss in the execution. On the first penny he counted 13 drops of water. On the second penny (the one with the liquid soap) he counted 21. Why the difference? We turned over the instruction card and read this explanation:

A penny can hold many drops of water because the water molecules like each other and form special bonds between each other. On the surface of the water, the molecules are held together by this surface tension. When too many drops are added, the surface tension is broken and the water spills over. Fewer drops can be put on the penny with the soap because soap decreases the surface tension and the water spills much sooner. [emphasis added]

Yeah . . . right . . . .

I really don't know how we manage to do this. But over and over again, our science experiments turn out with something far afield of the expected result. Just one of our many family talents, I guess.

A Capital Idea

Tonight at supper it was noted that the dog has been getting lots more treats these days. Since my mom got home from rehab, she has been freely dispensing dog biscuits to our mutt Willard. This is new for her, as are many behaviors since she got home. (That is a blog post in itself, a wonderful one, I might add. I will have to write it sometime.)

Anyway, regarding the problem of Willard's overindulgence, I opined, "We might just have to hide the dog treats from Grandma."

Evan's reply? "Or we could just reason with her."

That child is going to go far in life.

The well-fed subject of this post.

God's Own Child

Monday night I went to sleep planning out this blog post. But Tuesday, life intervened, so this is a day late. Eighteen years ago yesterday my baby girl was brought into the priesthood of all believers. Love came down and claimed Caitlin as His own as she was baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I give thanks that He continues to sustain and nurture her in the faith, a faith which is apparent in the things she says and does. I look at her and see a young woman who confesses the name of her Saviour with no hesitation and who does not shrink from speaking the truth but who manages, better than many more "mature" Christians, to always speak it in love. I so admire that about her.

November 12, 1995, was a cold, cold day in Peoria. It wasn't like today in Chicago, where it is cold but clear and sunny. Instead it was overcast and icy. I remember being worried about my mother and my in-laws as they made their way down the sidewalk to church. Once we were inside the building, though, all thoughts of the cold disappeared as we welcomed Caitlin Marie into the Lord's family. 

When he saw this picture Evan said, "Mom, you look young!" To which I said, "Evan, I was young!"

Trevor, Phillip, baby Caitlin and I along with our dear, sainted Pastor Freudenburg and his wife Jo.

 

Godparents.

I am really sorry I forgot to do this blog post yesterday. Earlier in the month I acknowledged Trevor's baptism on Facebook, and then last week I did a special post for Evan. When it hit me a little while ago that I had let Caitlin's day go by, I was disgusted with myself. Sometimes it stinks to be the middle child! Trevor is the firstborn, the oldest, the one away at college. Evan is the baby. Sometimes it seems as though Caitlin can get lost in the expanse between her brothers. But about yesterday's oversight my unassuming daughter was predictably understanding. That is another thing I admire about her. She expects so very little, accepting whatever comes with sincere appreciation.

By the way, that bit of life that intervened yesterday? It was called "selling the house." For those who may not know, our previous contract fell through. It looks, however, as though we now have another one. Having been burned once, I am not going to celebrate quite so boisterously this time around, but if all goes well we will be closing sometime after Christmas.

Male and Female He Created Them

Scene: In the kitchen, before bed. A mother is dispensing a Benadryl capsule to her allergy-ridden 10-year-old son. Son speaks first.

"When I'm 12, I'll take it without water. Or maybe when I'm 15."

"But honey, you don't have to take it without water. I don't take pills without water."

"But Dad does. He can swallow a whole handful of pills without water."

"Well, I don't do that."

"I guess there are just some things men do better than women."

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

What do you do when you don't think you can stand one more Power Rangers episode?

Give him his first Archie comic book.

Yep, We're a Classical School

Logic 101

"Evan, time for your shower!"

"But I've already had ice cream!"

Ten Years Ago Today

Happy baptism birthday to my sweet baby boy!

No Wonder They Gave Him a Music Scholarship

I love how these pieces demonstrate the full range of Trevor's musicianship. From the subtlety and lyricism of the first set of pieces to the technical and tonal demands of Beethoven to the sheer physicality and rhythmic brilliance of Ginastera, these performances showcase a young musician who is going places. I'm so glad I get to follow along as his number one adoring fan. Keep up the wonderful work, Trevor. You have come so far the last few years; how exciting to think of all the places you have yet to go!


 
Trevor Magness, Junior Recital, Part 1 from Cheryl on Vimeo.



Trevor Magness, Junior Recital, Part 2 from Cheryl on Vimeo.



Trevor Magness, Junior Recital, Part 3 from Cheryl on Vimeo.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

Reading this book with Evan has been an interesting experience. He can't figure out the main character. He disapproves of Tom's fighting, his naughtiness and his lying. And who in his right mind would elect to run away from a very nice home to spend several days and nights roughing it on an island, all the while letting the folks back home think he was dead?

Last night we read Chapter 25, which begins thus;

"There comes a time in every rightly constructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure."

Evan's response?

"Not me!"

The one aspect of the book that he doesn't seem to have much trouble identifying with is Tom's affection for Becky Thatcher. It would seem I'm rearing a lover, not a fighter. I'm okay with that.

A Most Excellent Tenth Birthday

Pictures especially for Dad and Trevor, who couldn't be here.

Mario game from Dad

His own personalized copy of LSB from Mom & Dad

Charlie Brown & Snoopy Show DVD from Trevor

Willard & bows

Mario pajama pants from Mom.

Stuffed Snoopy from Willard

A watch from Grandma

Garfield book from Caitlin (she also got him a Magic School Bus book)

Big sis hugs. 

Money from an auntie! (Total haul from the aunts: $85.)

Snoopy

Happy birthday, Evan!