Forgive me if I don’t sound quite like myself. I just finished reading Under the Tuscan Sun, and her writing style is so pervasive, I even dream like she writes. Which definitely isn’t a bad thing. Unless it’s that chapter on weird Southern and Italian religiosity. Spooky and creepy.
My little angels are all tucked into bed, with visions of apple turnovers dancing in their heads. This week we made apple pastries twice. Galettes (also known as ‘rustic tarts’) and, tonight, turnovers. Minimal sugar, maximum yum. I’ve been reading, again, Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. This time it’s the pies and galettes that attract me. The savory ones, particularly. Doesn’t that sound like yummy winter food, something baked in a crust?
The farther I get into this local eating bit, the more I wish I could reorganize my cookbooks into seasons. A few are, but most require much paging through to find these winter and early spring dishes. But, hey, what a great way to waste time, paging through cookbooks!
So I’m not sounding like Frances Mayes, good.
I began reading The Secret Garden to the girls this week. I was going to start with Laura Ingalls Wilder (we started a year or more ago, but didn’t finish), but Little House in the Big Woods just seems like more of a fall/winter kind of book. And here it is, coming on to spring. So Secret Garden it is.
Lia is loving it. With not too many questions on why the movie and the book are different. Note to self: don’t let them watch movies of classic books until after reading the book. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to get them interested in sitting still and listening to a long story, but now I’m second guessing.
It puts Amelie to sleep. Literally. Every time.
Tonight for our Sabbath dinner, we celebrated the Lord’s Supper. (I like that better than the more churchy word, ‘communion’). I had gotten little tiny wine glasses for the girls at community services, just their size. I love taking it out of church and into the family, into real life. When we were ‘remembering’ Jesus, Amelie remembered, “He got owies. On His left foot.”
Speaking of meal times, we’ve been saying this prayer before meals. I got it from a great book called All Through the Day, All Through the Year: Family Prayers and Celebrations by David Batchelder. By day two, the girls already knew their part. One person leads, the others respond in the bold.
I was hungry:
and you gave me food.
I was thirsty:
and you gave me drink.
I was a stranger:
And you welcomed me.
I was naked:
and you clothed me.
I was ill:
And you comforted me.
I was in jail:
and you came to see me.
Lord Jesus Christ,
may our Lenten fasting
turn us toward all our brothers and sisters
who are in need.
Bless this table, our good food,
Send us through Lent with good cheer,
and bring us to the fullness of your Passover.
(together) In the name of the Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit.
We bit the bullet, took the big breath, and let Amelie sleep at night without a diaper. Starting right after coming back from the youth retreat (didn’t want her peeing in the lodge bed). And, lo and behold, no accidents! Ironically, yesterday she wet her pants twice (once in bed, after a nap). But not at night! No more diapers for Amelie! Hooray! <small celebratory hop>
Levi has been happy happy this week. Practicing his three steps, standing and balancing, standing and dancing and balancing, and generally laughing as often as possible. He thinks he’s so funny. Because he is.
We’re starting to look forward to the arrival of Grandma and Grandpa, my mom and my sister, in late March. I hope and pray (O God, won’t you answer my sleeping prayers!!!!) that Levi be sleeping ALL night with NO waking and NO crying, IN the girls room…before they come. Because if he’s not, all of our hard work will go down the drain. Because it’s one thing to let the baby cry when it’s just you around, but you can’t do it when he’s sleeping outside your grandparent’s bedroom. You know. But I’m optimistic. We’ve come so far in just one short month.
Devo sensed an impending breakdown, I think. He shoved me out the door to the farmer’s market this morning, and stayed home with the kids. Then he (literally) shoved me to the bedroom after lunch to take an hour’s nap. I think we’ve had three weeks where he’s been very busy, and with him preaching next Sabbath, next week promises more of the same. I just need a little break every now and then, and I’m so thankful he made me take it!
Now if we could only find some time when we’re both home and both not busy. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not tomorrow night. Sunday?
The neighbors are playing beer pong (hit the ping pong ball into the beer cup, have to drink the beer). The swiss chard bed is planted. The leftover apple galette is tempting me. It’s supposed to rain this weekend. I really do love my life.