On the move

Summer is fading , the Canadian geese are gathering, the leaves are turning, and today we are MOVING!!!!!! After nearly a year of continual renovation work ( mostly by my dear husband and amazing father-in-law) we are going live in our first home.

It still doesn't feel real, but tonight I will sleep beneath fresly painted ceilings and walk on newly laid floors. Eiley will have her own room, and I have a refrigerator, stove and washing machine that are all ready to do my bidding. I feel like a queen.

I am so grateful for generous parents who have given their time again and again to help us acheive this miracle. In order for David and I to purchase a house within our means we had to pour in A LOT of sweat equity ( read in between the lines: blood, tears, backaches, bruises, headaches) David's parents have served us in thousands of precious ways. They invited us to live in their home for the last 4 months so that we could work on the house, and not have extra apartment rental payments. Agnes has lovingly taken care of Eiley many nights so I could work on the house with David , and Peter has given millions of hours building, sweating and laboring with David sharing his building expertise and knowledge all along the way. We could not have done this without them.


It has been a treat to wake up with live-in grandparents for the last few months, but tommorow we will again be our little family, living in our little house on this big prairie.

In true Laura Ingall's style we will have no phone service for the next 2-3 weeks. That means probably no blog posts, but I will be using my creative energy to make our house a home and when I return, I trust I will have much fun to share, so don't forget me, and I'll say hi to Ma and Pa for you... 

The cleanest throne there ever was

Last night four of my friends came to help me clean my house so that we can move in next week. These hot mamas transformed my dry wall dust-covered, paint-residue smeared, sawdust sprinkled, carpet piled, trash littered, newly renovated house into a sight so clean, I could actually eat off my brand new toilet. And to think that my house will never ever, ever, ever be that clean again....sigh.

Watching my amazing friends clean with such a frenzy of cheerful, Mama turned Molly-Maid, energy, almost brought me to tears. What does one do with friends like these?







Erin, the interior decorating genius, scrubbed my bathroom from top to bottom and produced a sight so shiny that you have to wear sunglasses to look at my chrome faucet. " If you have a caulking gun I will silicone your tub for you," she said. Who said mamas aren't handy? Erin siliconed the whole tub and impressed my handy husband with her invisible caulk job, AND she brought chocolate bars to boost our physical and emotional stamina :)

Becky, who is 5 months pregnant, wiped down all the walls and ceilings in our 1200 square foot house, vacuumed all the bedrooms, wiped down all my cabinets inside and out, and scoured the stove and paint residue-covered sink, all while looking cute enough to be on a Swiffer commercial.

Stephanie ran an errand for me in Winnipeg and then came back to shine up my windows and construction grime-covered doors. She then swept and mopped all my floors...and did I mention she brought home-made lemon loaf, made from her lemon verbena plant in her backyard?!? I think her middle name is Martha Stewart.

Judy, my sweet sister in law, who was not feeling well, still came and scraped stipple from my windows and scrubbed fly poo off our screens...She is a gem! Oh yeah, she also brought home-made chocolate covered peanut butter cookies!

Having friends like this is better than a spotless house ( and for the moment, I have both... until someone walks on the floors :)

This is why this California girl can live and enjoy the cold north.

This is what true spiritual Christian community is supposed to look like.

This is friendship.

This is beautiful!

My daily recipe

Besides canning 36 pints of spicy hot salsa and 24 pints of zesty pasta sauce this month I've also been working on a recipe that goes something like this:

1 Tbs sassiness
2 tsp adorableness
5 cups of silliness
4 liters stubbornness
a dash of prayer
3 pints of giggles
7 bouts of tears ( see below example)
6 testy looks
9 sweet kisses
4 hugs
500 training opportunities
many more dashes of prayer

Let it simmer for a day, then go to bed, forget about it, and start over again tommorow. Yields a pint-sized package sure to make your life an adventure.



Super models can cry can't they?

Summer isn't over yet

Smile :) 

Beautiful truth

How exquisite your love O God!
How eager we are to run under your wings
to eat our fill at the banquet you spread
As you fill our tankards with Eden spring water
You are a fountain of cascading light
And you open our eyes to light

(Beauty is the theme for mama says om)

Contentment

Being a mama is opening my eyes to the complexity of contentment.

I am learning to be in the space where I am and breathe a deep breath of thankfulness, to glance at where I have been and not beg to go back, and look to where I am going ( though rarely can I see that far) and not hop on a jet plane to get there. I am definitely in process.

In my twenties I traveled all over the world, from the deserts of Egypt to the jungles of Thailand, the fjords of northern Norway to the slums of India. I am amazed, when I look back, how pungent life seemed at the time. With each new experience my senses were satiated with the intensity of living every day on 'the edge'. I often wonder if it was another person living in my skin that saw those sights and lived that life, so far removed I feel from that terribly exciting Svea.

Now as a 30-something wife and mama, I am looking ahead to owning and living in my first home. My husband and I purchased a 30-year-old house that needed complete renovation, and for the last nine months we have been working tirelessly to renovate it. ( I say the proverbial "we" though it is David who has done 99.9% of the work) We still have not spent a night there, and the last 4 months we have been living in my in-law's basement. It still seems unreal that I will actually be living in my own house, and probably soon. I can't quite picture what that will be like. But while moving six times in the last five years I have learned that it doesn't help to live in the " when I finally get there" world, because contentment slips through your fingers as soon as you open your mouth to say the words.

Closer to home, I find the contentment quest is most acute for me in very personal areas, like my relationship with God. I can look back at a younger Svea, who had lots of time to meditate and pray and read truth and digest the subtleties. I can see her praying for a man in Albania and watching that man receive healing. I can hear her teach in classrooms around the world on "How to Hear God's Voice". Today I see her changing diapers and feeding off People magazine at the doctor's office.....That other person, was that me?, I ask.....and God, was that you ?

Somedays I feel like a tuning fork that has forgotten how to reverberate at my Jesus' voice. But, to the contrary, I know...deep down (in the eternal space inside me) that no tuning fork ever loses it's ability to carry a tune. That is what it was created for. And I was created to connect with Him to hear His voice no matter how mundane the moment.

Again, the call to contentment, to being in a different space but breathing the same life. I am smiling, because last night as I went to open my Bible, ( for the first time in many days) I fell asleep meditating on the most beautiful verse. When I woke up, I took a deep breath and experienced something precious, and not so elusive.........contentment.

Death of an evangelist

He wasn’t pretentious. He wasn’t pushy. He was loyal and kind, always playful, only occasionally snappy. He led my brother to Jesus and neighborhood lassies to distraction. His name was Rimshot, christened by my brother, Micah, after watching the movie Ernest Goes to Jail. On September 11, 2006, while much of the world remembered the terrible events of 5 years ago, our family mourned the passing of our Jack Russell terrier.

No one will miss him more than Chris, who, at 20 years old, cried when the vet put Rimshot down on Monday, relieving him of painful, arthritic old age. My family adopted my brother Chris when he was 8-years-old and from the moment he met Rimshot the two were inseparable. Chris was born with FAS and is blessed with a sweet angelic simplicity that defies this guile-filled world. Rimshot understood him, soaked up his rough-house hugs and loyally sat near him for hours while Chris drove toy cars through the dirt.

On Halloween one year Chris wanted to dress up like Jesus and insisted on taking his picture with his best friend Rimshot dressed as a disciple perhaps? But this was not the height of Chris’ supernaturally sweet connection with our dog. One afternoon my mom was sitting in the backyard with Chris, sharing about Jesus and how much He loved him. After talking for a while, their conversation went something like this:

Mom – So, Chris would you like to ask Jesus into your heart?
Chris – I already did
Mom-(somewhat puzzled at this statement) Oh really, you already asked Jesus in to your heart?
Chris- Yeah
Mom -Who prayed with you?
Chris – (With child-like innocence) Rimshot
My mom-( trying to stifle her shock and amusement )– Rimshot, the dog?
Chris – Yeah

My mom then proceeded to try and explain that it might be a good idea to pray with a person, because… well…. Rimshot was a dog ( she wasn’t sure she had heard of an ordained dog before, and what if Rimshot’s theology wasn’t straight, was Chris really saved?)

Mom- “Maybe I should pray with you”
This thoroughly miffed Chris, who looked down at his lap with much huffing and puffing

Mom- What’s wrong Chris?
Chris, Clearly seeing mom mom did not undertand, said with utter exasperation, ‘ I ALREADY prayed with RIMSHOT !'

So my mom released all idealistic, motherly dreams of being the one to lead her sweet son to Jesus, and let him go back to playing in the backyard with our evangelist dog.


And that is how I know that my dog is going to heaven…

COmments on the Death of an evangelist

see above

Mama love

Soo much love to give

Eiley is a lover. She loves people and squeals with delight at the prospect of seeing more people. She recognizes people names and squeals when I say that we are going to see them. She hugs, kisses and pats all the children in her vicinity, and gives 'eskimo kisses' to her auntie Chantelle daily.

She loves her friend Noelle and sometimes, understandably, Noelle gets a little bit too much. Eiley will follow her around trying to hug and pat her and Noelle squirms to get away from the suffocating loveyness.


Her younger cousins Kaelyn and Shiloh regularly endure a round of Eiley's shrieking, head patting and hugging with Eiley saying "aaawww" ( just like the adults do when they see her kissing and hugging the babies). She tries all the time to sit on their laps to get just a little bit closer to them, but a 15 month old trying to sit on an 8-month-old is a bit of a mismatched love fest, which requires mommy supervision and revision ' That is so sweet Eiley you love your cousin, but she is smaller than you, why don't you sit here next to her and not on her'


Eiley is also very touchy feely, just like her mama. She expresses her love by touching hugging and kissing . I just adore the feeling of her sweet baby girl hands on my knees as she gives me a spontaneous grab hug while I am working in the kitchen, or the way she will take a break from her toddler business and sit on my lap for a while if I just keep stroking her legs and back or playing with her hair.

I love the fact that my sweet girl is so free with her love, so generous with her kisses and hugs and oh so snuggly. I know a day will come when I will have to tell her she can't kiss the postman, but until then, I relish her freedom, her exuberance and her precious little girl lovin'.

The day Eiley wrestled the giant zucchini and won!

In the jungles of our kitchen my little explorer makes a discovery: ..... A giant zucchini!

In this picture "little bit", as I like to call her, is using her 'zucchini whispering' techniques, trying to calm the great beast before she goes for the capture.......













Soon 'little-bit' grasps her prey, attempting to get her hands around the ornery giant’s neck.......










It is a battle of wills.


The zucchini seems willing to fight to the death for it's freedom....

, but 'little-bit' is a feisty gal......

and who can stand against a determined toddler !?!




Who will prevail?










Little-bit makes the catch and the monster is hers! There is great rejoicing in the jungle for now all toddlers and babies are free to roam without fear of malicious vegetables.




and the mommy made stir fry for dinner ;)



How will I ever tell her about Bob and Larry ?

Reasons why I love this man #65, #478, and #10,000

The combine tractors are out in full force bringing in the harvest from the fields surrounding our little town. In the evenings you can smell the scents of autumn: the turned up earth, the damp dew on leaves just begninning to change shades, and the sweet smell of smoke from burning fields, where farmers clear the land for planting next spring. All these smells were somewhat new to me when I moved here, but I first began to notice them because of him.

For my sweet husband, autumn is the BEST time of year. When he was young he would run in the feilds and watch the fires burn. He tells me he was always waiting for the day when he would meet me and we could experience fall together. When he says that, I just smile teasingly at my silly, wonderful man. We will be driving along the road and catch a whiff of smoke or see a combine or hear the Canadian Geese beginning their southerly migration and my darling gets this wistful, sweet, melancholy, romantic twinkle in his eye as he reaches for my hand to hold. I love that about him. He is both tender and incredibly strong.

I could spend days telling many tales of beautiful things this man has done to show his love for me, but one thing that touches me is something he has done since we got married. David has rubbed my feet at least twice a week, sometimes more, for the last four years, and I have never asked him once to do it. Many evenings he will grab some special foot lotion and sit down beside me on the couch and say, "Please let me give you a foot rub" .....How can anyone say no to that!
I know it is extravagantly wonderful and I do not deserve a husband like him, but I am so thankful that he chose me, and as we enter the autumn season, I am especially grateful to be able to enjoy my life with such an amazing, sensitive man.

Reason why I love this small town #312

I ventured out this afternoon to borrow a can of tomato sauce in order to make a batch of salsa for canning. When I returned home 30 minutes later, after a few stops at my neighbors homes, I had my arms overflowing with this! A bag of fresh, garden tomatoes, two monster-size zuccinni, 4 onions and a jar of homemade beet borscht. This just doesn't happen everywhere, and this is one reason why I love this little town. Everyone has a garden and they give their goods away to almost anyone who walks by their yard slow enough, which is a blessing for people like me who don't have gardens yet, and the prime reason that I have changed from power-walking to meandering through town......:) just kidding, but seriously, friendly neighborhood small town generosity is a treat, and so are the 16 pints of salsa I made using lots of gifted veggies.

PS- Don't worry , I don't plan on making a career of still-life vegetable and fruit photography :) 

It's a Goodland indeed

When I moved to the great white North ( Canada) almost four years ago, One thing I missed terribly from my native California was fresh fruit grown in my backyard. I grew up with orange, apricot, pomegranate, grapefruit, cherry, and persimmon trees in my backyard ( in the city mind you) . As a kid one of my favorite things was to pick fresh tender sugary sweet apricots off our tree in July and let the warm, juicy, fleshy insides dribble down my chin as I stuffed the entire apricot into my mouth. Needless to say the closest I have gotten to California fruit is reading the "Imported from" labels on many fruits and vegetables grown within minutes and hours from my hometown.

A little over a year ago David and I purchased an empty piece of property in our little town and what did we discover but a heavy laden apple tree amongst many other trees and bush. We also found grapevines, wild asparagus, horseradish and rubarb, but the crowning treat was the apple tree. Aren't the apples pretty? a lovely green with a wash of rosy red.

This spring when we moved an old bunglaow onto our lot and began renovations, our little tree endured a bit of abuse with all the large machinery around. However in July we pulled off around 50 gallons of apples from our tree. I have been baking and freezing lots of pie filling. Here you see my first ever attempt at a Granny Pie, as I like to call it. A very large apple pie. I must admit it was deeeelicious! I took some of our apples to a local tree nursery and the owner told me the apples were Goodland Apples.

I love that name. Goodland. What a great reminder to me that God has led David and I into a good land, and that HE knows my desires and blessed me with a lovely fruit tree in my backyard even in the frozen north... hee hee hee. Now if I could just figure out how to plant an apricot tree that would survive minus 40 degree temperatures. I guess i will have to settle for my mom's amazing dried apricots from our tree in Cali. Here is Eiley and i next to our tree in the winter.