I leave the house to go to work four evenings a week.  (More about that, some other post.  I leave a few minutes before 8, and I’m home a few minutes after 8 in the morning.)

Mostly, it works pretty well.  The little ones are either in bed, or almost ready for bed, and my husband spends time with the older kids.  Sometimes, they watch movies (with the tv guardian on…) that I really don’t want to see again, or do puzzles, or whatever it is they decide to do.

Last night, once I had tucked my 92 year old friend into bed, I settled in my own room and turned on my laptop.  I e-mailed my husband with a few questions.

In just a few minutes, he e-mailed me back telling me what he had been up to for the evening.

Hi Sweetheart!

My parents called, and I talked to them for a half hour – no big news.  They said thank you for the table cloth – Mom said it was “really neat.”
I picked the turkey meat off, and am boiling the bones.  I’ll make someone a good housewife some day…

Love you,
Jeff

I just had to laugh at that.  I told him that I already thought he was pretty wonderful.  A housewife, no, although he does many things more diligently than I do:  laundry, fixing meals when he is home, reading bedtime stories, tucking little ones into bed.  He even gets up about three times a night to let our silly cat in or out of the house, based upon her whims.  The cat thinks he’s awesome.  I do too.

We aren’t hugely about “roles” around here.  Our oldest son makes breakfast every morning, and our oldest girl cleans up the kitchen.  Sometimes the oldest ones peel potatoes for supper, sometimes the little ones do.   We all read stories to little ones, we all clean potties, we all know how to wipe faces, we all know how to feed the cat and clean out the van.  We all know how to mow the yard and weed a garden and filet  fish and clean the windows…oh, wait.  That window part never happens.   And I do wish that someone would learn to dust and sweep in the corners.   We all know, however,  how to pile into the living room to eat home-made pizza and watch old tv shows on the weekend, or to throw the water cooler, a quilt, some food and swimsuits into the back of the van in the summer to head to the swimming hole.  It is my prayer that we all learn more about hope, and joy in this coming year – along with many other lessons on how to be a closer family.  It is a constant process, it seems.

For us, it’s all about give, and take, about flexibility, about seeing a need an jumping in.  It’s not so much about authorities and who is supposed to do what – it’s just about being a family, and we work toward that end all of the time.  We love it this way.  Sometimes it is messy.  Actually, USUALLY it is messy, but that’s how families seem to be and that’s how they seem to grow.

And me?  I’m sooo glad that I didn’t have to pick the turkey meat off of that old bird.  It is one of my least favorite jobs.

Thank you, honey, for being flexibility in doing whatever it takes to make this family run, and in teaching our children to do the same.

My guy, reroofing our house

…and a little cuddle time with our littlest girl.

If only people knew….

how hard we have to work….

to keep it “only” this messy. 

I know a boy,

A fifteen year old boy.

He spent his summer working hard,

sweating as he mowed yard after yard,

sweating as he painted fences

and cleaned gutters

and walked wheat.

He worked so hard, all spring, all summer,

and on into the fall.

He also helped a lot of people for free.

To be fully honest,

he spent a little time

picking on his sisters

and giving his mother a certain amount of grief,

and spent a lot of time

talking and living and

learning how to be a man.

After getting beat up one evening

and having some money taken

from his pocket,

he took up martial arts and

mowed the instructor’s yard to

pay for his equipment.

With the rest of his hard-earned money,

he bought a few long-desired lego sets.

Then, he paid almost completely for the

entire family to take a mini-vacation,

carefully planned and paid for a fishing trip

for his Dad and his brother (including meals),

and saved some money for the rest of the year.

And most importantly, he sent

several hundred dollars to Katie’s

efforts to feed the poorest of Uganda’s poor,

the Karamajong people.

I watched this boy,

I am still watching this boy,

as he journeys to know God and to

walk with Him.  I’m watching as He

learns to hear what it is that God

requires of us, and as he puts feet

and effort behind his compassion.

I know a boy…who is becoming a man,

and I have much hope

for the next generation.

I realize that gardening posts aren’t huge hit-makers, and yet, I like to record what is going on in my little garden for posterity’s sake.  This blog is my scrapbook of sorts. 

Most of my garden is shut down for the season.  I’m still getting a little okra and pole beans, and there are a lot of green tomatoes that I’m not sure will ever ripen.  I will pick them before our first heavy frost.  I will attempt to ripen some of them, fry others, and maybe make some green tomato relish with the rest.

We picked four of our large pumpkins today.  They came from a volunteer vine that I let take over the garden area in hopes that it would produce big pumpkins.  It did.    Growing pumpkins has to be one of the most satisfying of all garden ventures.  I’m not likely to buy all 8 of my children a pumpkin at $4-5 a pop, but grow them?  Oh, so much more free fun. 

It is green and red pepper season here.  I have about 8 plants that are loaded with 5-6 peppers each.  They’ve already produced well, and still have a ways to go.  I love to make stuffed peppers for a couple of meals.  That uses up at least 10 peppers.  I also like to make a pepper/kielbasa type of spaghetti sauce, to go over noodles.

I saute the kielbasa, fresh garden leeks (which are also ready to eat), and green and red peppers for just a few minutes.  I like the peppers to be still crisp when I christen them with spaghetti sauce.

I have decided, however, that I should become more artistic when I name a dish.  I have a friend, named Julia, who makes fabulous sounding dinners for her family.  She writes out her menu, and it includes such glorious delights as “fresh garlic and butter sauteed green beans, lemon-chicken with organic, hand-picked rosemary and thyme, rustic red baby potatoes with butter, parsley, and chives, and hand-tossed foccacia glazed with carmelized leeks and virgin-pressed olive oil.  Dinner will be followed by a triple layer boston creme cake, oozing with double layers of vanilla-laced cream and chocolate icing, served with triple-infused expresso bean ice cream.”

Mmmm.  See what I mean?  I want to go to HER house for supper, every night.    What a blessing she must be to her family.  God has given her the gift of loving to cook.

So, in honor of Julia, I will change my ways.  When my children ask me “what’s for supper,” I will no longer say ….”Uh, I dunno.  Some peppery/leeky stuff with little bits of meat and tomato sauce.  You can eat it over noodles if you like,”   Instead, I will say, “Why beloved ones, we are having freshly grown, organic, peak of the season pimentos blended with hand-harvested sweet green peppers.  They have been lightly sauteed along with ethically harvested leeks in olive oil and herb infusion , then joined in matrimony with a healthy portion of browned kielbasa.  They are crowned with a delicate-yet-robust marinara sauce.”

I imagine that they will blink at me in surprise.  The little ones will still act as if I am killing them by trying to force them to eat, and the big ones will gulp it down and return for seconds.  I shall feel better, though, about my entire cooking experience.  It’s all in “how” you say it.

WHY is my daughter licking a slatted door?  WHAT is on her face?  I think it is chocolate.  Whatever it is, she sure looks guilty.

*photo by Nick