october in words

(I am rarely this wordy. You've been warned.)

So I don't quite know what has happened to my blog here, but October 2013 is probably my personal worst for blogging consistency. Days have been full though. I thought I'd take a post to give an honest catch up.

We joined the Y this month and I really like it. I mostly go for the HGTV, but I'm beginning to go to more classes where I actually feel social pressure to break a sweat. I also attended a water aerobics class early one morning at the senior center pool. It's through the Y, but as I found out, attended by mostly 75-year olds. Naturally I loved it. These are my people. Our teachers name is Marilyn and that sort of sums it up. Everyone wears tennis shoes in the pool or aqua socks and I was told I should use the biggest water weights "because I could handle them." That was good for my self esteem.

We have been sort of working in manic-squirrel mode around here preparing for winter. Rory is working hard to get a ceiling in around his chimney for the stove in his office. When that's done his office will be winterized. I am on a never ending mission to organize and clean my garage so we can pull both cars in. My efforts are greatly slowed by the two cats and three chickens who delight in my presence, wrapping themselves around my legs, happily clucking after me everywhere I go.

I have been walking through a sort of revival of the soul this month. We go to a prayer meeting two doors down every Tuesday night. It's an amazing group of earnest seekers of Christ and I love every minute. We've done some book studies but now we're doing a series by Joyce Meyer on taking your own thoughts captive. She's all about taking personal responsibility for your own self, your attitude, the way you react. I'm feeling conviction all over the place. She talks a lot about self-pity and says, "you can't be both pitiful and powerful." Rang like a bell.

I also got to teach for a morning at our church's women's book study. It was really fun to be in that mode again. It has been so, so long since I've done any sort of public speaking and it felt good. A bit rusty, but really good, too.

And Rory has been teaching a class at our church on Sunday mornings before the service begins. He's walking through CS Lewis' Mere Christianity, teaching from the book while weaving in discussion questions. It's so rich. Feels like a feast. Rory has a great pace to his teaching, and the material is so substantial, so articulate, and such a great reminder of the great story of God's Kingdom we are living under.

Rory and I went to the Sara Groves, Andrew Peterson and Bebo Norman concert earlier this month, followed by two nights at the Westin in Edina. The getaway was needed, wonderful, and way. too. short. We've been listening to a whole lot of Andrew Peterson ever since the concert and I can't get enough. Andrew has a way of writing songs that constantly point to the larger story that our story hangs on. Just like Lewis in the paragraph above, Andrew is always singing about the reckoning, wondering how long it will be until this earthly story concludes, singing about the loss of youth but a readiness for the eternal. And he's a poet, so the way he writes and sings makes things feel new again. Every song makes my heart beat a little harder, excited to be a part of God's kingdom work, excited to be hands and feet, excited to be His.

We have had a ton of company this month. I remember this about last October too. Somehow this is the month we seem to book up with dinner guests and visitors. It's awesome and makes our farm feel alive and bustling.

And finally, last night we had our friend Jaime come out to take family pictures. Jaime and I had talked this August while sitting on beach chairs by prior lake and I was debating if a photo shoot with a one and two year old was even worth it. Felt like such a gamble. Late in the game (this month) I decided we should give it a whirl. They're only this age once, right? So Jaime came and we laid out our colorful quilt under an oak tree back in the woods. And we set our children up and watched them wiggle away. And then Vernon, the orange cat came and photobombed for a long while. And eventually Elsie was crying crocodile tears as she shivered in the cold.

I think we got a few shots, but boy was it work.

Fast forward to two hours later when we're just back in the house and Elsie starts screaming. Her thumb is purple again (she had slammed it in the toilet seat earlier this week) and it looks out of joint. She can't pull it together and eventually lost all of the food eaten during the day. We rushed to the ER, unable to figure out why her thumb was so oddly positioned.

We got there, her thumb was "normal" again, but she had a fever of 101.7 and she continued to throw up. She was miserable. And we felt terrible. We had just spent two hours trying to "cheer her up" for family photos, bouncing her around, making silly faces at her and now the doctor was telling us he was pretty certain she had the stomach flu. He thought the thumb was just a coincidence.

They gave her a tiny Zofran, which felt full circle since I lived on Zofran while I was pregnant with her. She slept great all night, and in a sweet miracle the rest of us did too. She still has a fever and is very lethargic so we spent a lot of time today snuggling and reading board books and watching Thomas the Train. She's so active and busy that the days she wants to just lay in my arms are like a sweet gift. I'll take it.

***

I've been thinking a lot about blogging lately, wondering if it's obsolete yet. Wondering if people care anymore. But then I just had all of my posts from 2012 printed in a hard cover book and that book is like gold to me. It's the baby book I never finished for Ivar, and this blog is the baby book I've never even started for Elsie (for real.) It serves as the 10-year diary I wish I kept up with like my mother-in-law does so faithfully. And it's the journal I wish I wrote in each night. For now this medium is the only way I have continued any sort of writing life (which has mostly been a picture-describing writing life, but I hope that improves at some point too). But I finally decided that all those reasons are reason enough to keep writing.

Or maybe just for my great granddaughter who may one day crack the printed hardcover blog books open, curious about our day to day life. To her (and to you too) I'd say, "I'm so glad you're here. And I am very grateful you are reading."