Anneke gets her hair did

Faithful readers, prepare for a barrage of post-Christmas postings, but I had to start with Anneke's trip to Margie's Beauty Shop. I can remember sitting in Mamo's chair when I was a little older than Anneke, disregarding her and my mother's entreaties to please sit still. Anneke's hair is usually pretty wild, but, as you can see, Mamo tamed it, with her expert scissor-wielding and a can of Tressemme. At 2 3/4 years old, Anneke is already much better than I am at sitting still, bless her heart.

 

 

 

 

Comfort

"Comfort, comfort ye My people,
Speak ye peace, thus saith our God;
Comfort those who sit in darkness,
Mourning 'neath their sorrow's load;
Speak ye to Jerusalem
Of the peace that waits for them;
Tell her that her sins I cover,
And her warfare now is over."

This is my third Advent post, and I have to laugh at myself as I realize how weepy and morose I become in the weeks leading up to Christmas. I laugh, and I feel right about it. I think every year I cite some sad story or another, either that of someone I know or read about in the news, so I'll skip those details. I think I go on for several paragraphs, too, so I'll try to skip that, as well.

I'll just say that the words above are the first verse of the hymn that has been running through my head, that I hum while I wash the dishes, that sent me slipping out of Lessons and Carols rehearsal to regain my composure, lest I look like a hormonal soprano drama queen. Singing these words brings to my mind and heart the people I know are "mourning 'neath their sorrow's load" right now: I feel sad and afraid for them and yearn for their comfort.

I think Advent (for me) is a dark time where I learn and remember why in the world people yearn for a savior in the first place. This year, in a time when I find comfort at every turn in my own life, I feel called to share it more than I have been so far amidst choir rehearsals, shopping, tree-trimming, and cookie-baking. There's one week left to prepare for Christmas; I hope I'm ready.

Our little Christmas cookie

Monthly update, and I'll make it quick. I love who Anneke is and what she's becoming. She is sweet, funny, and intelligent. I love how she loves what Dave and I love (so far)--books, music, the moon, numbers, cooking. She is a little shy and cautious--not super slow to warm up, but she needs her time to check out the scene from my lap, or from behind my legs, and that's just fine. I think she gets this from her dad, and I want to honor this about her even as I gently encourage her to see what might be outside her comfort zone. This photo was taken right after she visited Santa; I'll post the pictures later. She had resolved on her own she was not going to be shy this year and dutifully sat on his lap, because she had decided Santa was, after all, her friend, and he's the guy whose gonna bring her a Pillow Pet. The look on her face as she talked to Santa was serious, and it was clear she was not sure about the situation. But it was something she had decided to do, and she did it.

Christmas crafty

I'm definitely not one of those crafty hausfraus. Well, maybe I am...no, I'm not. In any sense of the word. But what's a girl to do when she gets hold of not only "Southern Living Christmas" but the 12/10 issue of "Martha Stewart Living"? She's gotta get busy on sloppy approximations of embroidery-hoop card wreaths and spray-painted seashells, that's what!

This is all Dave's handiwork, and completely from scratch. True, I was the creative consultant--it would have been a very utilitarian gingerbread house without my suggestion to adorn it with gumdrops, candy canes, and to mark it with a "B," very much like our own home.

"Southern Living" had step-by-step instructions on how to make a magnolia wreath, while "Sunset" had instructions on making a bay laurel wreath. This is my version and what I'm using for our advent wreath. I, uh, wouldn't be inspired to purchase this in a store and probably would have done a better job back in 4th grade, but process over product is what I always say. When it comes to making wreaths. For you liturgical-year color sticklers (and I know you are legion among my readers), I just couldn't find either royal blue candles or the purple/pink ones. But the interwebs assures me that it's perfectly respectable among Protestants to just use red. Please don't tell the altar guild.

Here is Martha Stewart's embroidery hoop card wreath, and I think it turned out just fine.

This was inspired by S.L. and M.S.L., a la a tree festooned with seashells and adorable little seashell candle-holders spray-painted gold and silver. I got out the ol' glue gun and affixed red satin ribbon and hung them on the tree. Here they are before they got the ribbon treatment.

I'm grateful...

...for more than I can list in this blog. But today it was for the slow, meandering pace of a toddler during a hike in Forest Park, which involved many interludes of puddle-splashing and throwing of leaves into the stream. We burned very few calories, but we saw lots of tiny mushrooms on a log, which I never would have seen without her guiding me.

Lovely Sunday part 2: turkey in the snow

And speaking of cliches, after our walk we left our smug, environmentally correct neighborhood in our Subaru to head out to Terra Farma in the Columbia River Gorge to pick up some raw goat milk and our very pricey, but very humanely raised, Thanksgiving turkey. And there was bonus free apple cider we got to press ourselves! Or, rather, Dave got to press it. As you can see, it snowed!

I woke Anneke up from a dead sleep so she wouldn't miss the fun. She never would have forgiven us for letting her sleep through this.

I've wanted to try this place since I moved here. My nieces' grandparents Bud and Gladys told me about it when they were in town for a visit eleven years ago. It's right on the Sandy River in Corbett. It was a lot fancier than I expected. I wouldn't make a special trip out there, but if you do pass by it, it's a really nice place to stop for cozy comfort food. I believe those in the know refer to it as "Chic-Dump" because that's the part of the sign that lights up.

Lovely Sunday part 1: love/eyeroll

Today was lovely, and started with a walk through the neighborhood. I love our neighborhood even as I roll my eyes from the effect of hippy-dippy overload. Could we get more cliche with our backyard chickens (which lead to backyard raccoons and rats, I might add), "edible landscaping" and nearby environmental school? And yet...it's all very nice, and makes for interesting walks. In the end, the eye-rolling is affectionate, and of course I appreciate the values reflected in all of these sometimes faddish, sometimes even sanctimonious displays. To say there are worse ways to use one's yard space is quite an understatement--like, say, putting in a pool.

Interesting detritus and yard-art:

The Sunnyside Environmental School chicken coop, which Anneke and I love to visit.

I love unkempt gardens in autumn.

This actually won't be Anneke's elementary school, but wouldn't you feel good about your kid wandering around this school yard every day? Each grade has its own little garden.