We like to grow things

There is a bit of the farmer in Ken, a desire to see things grow, to help things grow....to grow things. And this is what it looks like here on our almost farm...

Wheat! Our farming friend grew wheat in our fields! I hope to bake some bread with it soon!

A rock garden that I finally paid some attention to this spring. And Ken stands guard against the weeds....

Pigs to be taken to the butcher in the fall.....

He likes to grow other things, too. We both do.

Children...Minds...Spirits...Vision...Dreams...

We may not always be able to measure their growth, but I know our efforts are not in vain. God will complete the work begun in each one!

Somehow it's been a week since I last sat to write. Time flies and yet stands still for me. My day flurries by and the sun goes down and I realize I never did make it outside to smell the fresh cut grass, or watch the hawk that flies overhead, crying for some unseen companion. And yet, there are things like diapers and sleepless nights and laundry piles and meals to be cooked...endless work that's never done even though I may be "done" and it all seems to be going so slowly. But today, as I sat and nursed Little B, a delicious breeze of summer drifted in through the window beside me, and I looked out to see the most beautiful green field and barn and thought, "My life is perfect." And I know you know it's really not. But for that moment, with babe in arms, smell of summer drifting in...it really was.

So I'm thankful today for

*a new co-worker to brainstorm with

*26 chickens in my freezer

*Delicious summer breezes

*6 blessings

*a football league for two rough and tumble young men

*the coaches who spend so much time teaching them how to be rough and tumble the safe way!

And that's all...for now.

Thankful....

I know full well that if I can just get my eyes off of the annoying, the ugly, the imperfect, and focus on the good, the noble, and the beautiful, that my heart will become light as a feather. But knowing something and doing it don't always seem to match up. So, I join the multitudes giving thanks on a Monday for:
*Cool breezes* Baby kisses* Uninterrupted conversation* The love of my husband* Peanut Butter Pandemonium ice cream* New school books* Fly swatters
It's odd, it's random, and it's a start! :>)

Where's Oma?

As I tucked Matthew in tonight, he asked, "Where's Oma?" It's a question he asks me sometimes once a day, sometimes once a week.

"In heaven," I answer, tears just under the surface of my words.

"Oh." And he rolls over and closes his eyes.

He asks the question that is on all of our minds.

"Where is Oma?" A redundant question, really, for we all know the answer. She's in heaven, with her Father, a comforting fact, to be sure. But what we really are wanting to know is, why isn't she here? All I could think on Saturday at her memorial service is how much she would have loved it. Her whole family at church together, with dainty morsels and strawberries and coffee to enjoy with friends afterward! And all on her birthday. It was the perfect day....except she was missing and we all felt like she should be walking in the door any minute. How could she possibly be gone?

Reminders of her are everywhere...a wooden spoon, a favorite mug, her pin cushion and notebooks-right where she left them, awaiting the return that was not to be. It's all different now. Which is not bad, I know. But it's also not easy.

"Oma died." Daniel says out loud, less often now than when it was fresh and raw.

"Yes, I know sweetie." It's as if he needs to remind himself. Saying it out loud makes it real. Because it is a bit surreal. Life is odd without Oma. And I know we will see her again.

But it's not easy.

Many hands make light work..

chives in the foreground, will bloom any day

nothing like a yard just after mowing--so clean

I discovered something yesterday. I actually like gardening. As in, truly enjoy it. But for a long time now I thought I didn't. What I don't like, is starting and stopping a gardening project. Like what you have to do when a young one is helping, or the baby needs to nurse, or the phone rings, or it's time to make dinner, or.....well, you get the picture. Once my hands are dirty-- I just want them to stay dirty until the job is done. I was delighted to finally make that distinction. So I spent yesterday afternoon in my rock garden, where I nursed a hungry baby (literally sitting in the dirt), directed helpers, and visited with various children as they came to check things out or lend a hand. And after 2 hours of gloriously uninterrupted work, the rock garden now has a new look. As does the yard. Everyone pitched in yesterday to beautify things around here. Andrew and Ken mowed, Jon whacked some weeds and planted flowers, Emma and Matthew cleaned up toys, picked out flowers, helped me weed. The satisfaction felt after spending the afternoon working together as a family was felt by all. With ice cream to round out the day.

Oma 1930-2010

She was a beautiful German woman who spoke English and Spanish and relished Chinese food. She loved the color green, poetry and naps in the afternoon. She collected buttons and painted beautiful flowers with watercolors. She treated me like a daughter, and welcomed each new grandchild with the love and enthusiasm that marks a person who values life. Her faith was an inspiration to many, and the reason her children walk with God. Always ready for a good political discussion, Oma would engage whoever would be willing in a lively discussion about the issues of the day. She taught Emma how to cut a carrot, how to set a table, and how to sew a sock. She taught me how to make cole slaw, how to be more thrifty, how to be hospitable. She taught Ken how to work, and he is now teaching our boys how to work. Her hands were never idle, and our home is blessed with the beautiful rugs she made out of what others deemed rags. All were welcome at her table and Saturday hamburgers were a delicious tradition. She was the center of every family gathering, and always made sure we started with prayer.

Life will not be the same without her. From the time my kids have been able to walk, they have all marched down to Oma's to find something interesting to do. And they were never disappointed. She's been a friend and a mother, and I will miss the way she doted on me. One look in my eyes and she could tell if I was feeling under the weather, or sad, or just tired. I will miss our conversations about God and faith. I will miss her smile and her soft, warm cheek. I wish I could have kissed it one last time.

I love you, Oma. Enjoy your well-deserved rest with your heavenly Father.

Sarah

She talks to me. Not with words, but with a turn of the head, a raised eyebrow, the stiffening of her little body, a cry. I'm certain the others must have talked to me, too. But this time, I think I'm a better listener. Last night she told me she wanted a bath, not a meal. This morning, at 5 am, when I really just wanted to lay my head down on my pillow, she told me it was time to play, with her gigantic toothless smile and a body turned toward the doorway of my bedroom. So downstairs we went, to enjoy each other's quiet company before the bustle of the day. She is a wonderful communicator, and there is very little crying throughout the day, if I slow down long enough to be a good listener. 10 weeks old now, and these are the things I love about her:

**she wakes up happy, ready for smiles and pleasant conversation

** she saves her best stories for her Papa

**she has the most gorgeous rolls on her little legs

**her head smells like heaven

**she adores her brothers and sister

**she pedals her feet like crazy when she's excited

**she has found her hands, and sucks them, looks at them and bops herself in the face with them, with utmost concentration and joy

**she snuggles

**she sleeps (at least at night and when we are home!)

** she no longer screams in the car

**her sweet, sweaty little hands

I find myself lingering over her crib when she's taking an extra long nap, snuggling with her before laying her down in her crib at night, even enjoying the early morning quiet times we share in spite of the lack of sleep it means for me....what a blessing!