The Walking Fiddle

We are pretty sick around here. But I am happy to say we are having a very nice day anyway! Which is excellent because the rest of this week has been absolutely horrid. My temper has been completely on the edge and the kiddos constantly provoking me. I hate it when I get like that. Snapping my poor son’s head off because my head hurts and I want a little peace from the endless questions and two little people constantly on my tail. Yesterday was just about the worst ever and I didn’t want to go to bed because then it would be morning and I would have to do it all over again. Well, I had a very encouraging read before bed of a new book I am starting “Battlefield of the Mind,” by Joyce Meyer. I felt much better and woke up refreshed this morning with a new outlook on life. Elijah seems to be coming down with the local cold so I kept him home from preschool today and we haven’t gotten out of our pajamas. It’s been great. I’ve had so much more patience, I haven’t been using my mean-mama’s-had-it voice, Brynny napped and Elijah and I had some good read-aloud time. That’s the kind of day I like. Sunshine breaking through the grump-slump of the last few days.

I’m not trying to prove to the world that I love my husband. Because I really do and I don’t need to convince anybody. But man, he’s so awesome that he just deserves a shout-out once in awhile. Because I married the cream of the crop. It’s true. The International Council of Bachlorettes went into mourning and raised the flag at half-mast the day I got ‘im! I just felt like boasting a little. I was thinking this morning about our dating days and how fun and exciting they were. But you know what? I don’t look back on those times with nostalgia and wish I could go back. Every day just gets better. Not to say that we haven’t had our rocky times, misunderstandings and so forth. But even during those times I never once wished we hadn’t gotten married. Such a thing would have been too horrible to consider.

Well, I’ve got a grumpy boodle girl here who isn’t interested in letting me continue this ode. Marc would probably have a fit if I continued anyway, he’s rather modest about his awesome husbandness. See ya!

I thought I would tip you off to a great blog I’ve been reading: rowforwater.com. Katie is 23 and is rowing across the Atlantic by herself. She just started the trip so you can easily go catch up from the beginning. She’s writing it herself- she has a satellite uplink so she can blog during rowing breaks. It sounds like a phenomenal adventure! Go Katie!

This morning is not, shall we say, quite as cozy as yesterday. I have on a turtleneck, wool sweater and down vest as I sit here. And my fingers are feeling quite chilly- almost wishing they had gloves on. Elijah, my little miniature furnace, does not seem to be cold whatsoever in just his pajamas and socks as he works on his breakfast. We did quite enjoy a hearty pot of hot oatmeal. In short, our new furnace is not working. It was installed yesterday and when the workmen left it was making the house very nice and warm. Then we went out to dinner at Joel & Jess’ place and when we came back we were rudely greeted with a 60 degree house. We bundled the baby and stayed warm under our covers all night but my, it IS rather chilly when you come out from under the down comforter. We’ve put in a call to the heating company, and I do hope they will return it soon. Brrrrrrr.

Food seems to be so attached to our feelings of comfort and warmth and happiness. I feel perfectly happy to smell the muffins baking in the oven, the bacon frying in the pan, the happy sound of Bonnie Rideout’s fiddle on the CD player. Little feet running around and around the circle of rooms, pounding on the floor till someone says, loudly “Elijah, slow down!” Cold winter morning sun streaming through the windows. The grinding, grating loud sounds coming from the basement- our new furnace being installed (they estimated our previous one was circa 1950), the promise of toasty days and nights to come.

Snowfalls past- my sister and I, NJ, circa 1984

I figure that riding out one of the top ten storms of the century in Baltimore should probably elicit a post to the old blog. It’s not that bad, really. I’ve got my hot cup of keemun and cinnamon toast and some slices of smoked dutch gouda. And certain of my offspring, I won’t say which, doesn’t seem to realize that we’re in the middle of a blizzard but has no qualms whatsoever about running around in his birthday suit for fifteen minutes instead of getting dressed. I think if we opened the door and said “it’s time to go play in the snow!” he’d run right out.

Anyway, we’re supposed to get 1-2 feet by tomorrow morning. Pretty exciting stuff. Good thing I finally got around to buying Elijah some good mittens last week. No snow pants though, unfortunately. Under the delusion that Baltimore only gets 3 inches a year, I didn’t think he’d really need them. Brynny, on the other hand, is equipped with a fantastically warm down snowsuit (complete with fur ruff), but no boots. I’m not sure her slipper-shoes would do the job if we took her out to toddle in the snow. I wish I had some down snow pants. I used to have some very fine bright red snow pants that I would tuck into the tops of my tall green wellington boots. Both items disappeared when I thought we we were moving to the subtropics for the next twenty years.

Well, Elijah has managed to dress himself admirably well for the weather and now he and daddy are off to explore the world of white. Too bad I dropped our camera and broke it earlier this week, so unless I con an unsuspecting neighbor to take a picture or two, Elijah’s first big snowstorm in Baltimore will go largely undocumented.

When Marc is out for his bi-weekly game night with the guys at work, some form of excitement is sure to occur back at home.

We have a fenced-in yard, and several weeks ago I had the bright idea to let Nutty (aka Nutkin, our cat) take in the air outside, under closer supervision from myself (to be sure she didn’t gallop up the dogwood onto the neighbor’s shed roof). She enjoyed her excursion very much. She sniffed around, ate grass, explored… until I noticed that there was small hole in the fence. She noticed it at the same time, apparently, because next thing I knew I was grabbing her hind legs as she tried to squeeze to freedom. That was the end of Nutty en plein air.  Unfortunately, her brief taste of liberty whetted her appetite for more. Prior to this little foray she barely noticed the existence of doors to the outside, and never attempted to dash through them when we came or went.  Now she listens for the sound of the car pulling up, and lurks, waiting for the second the door opens to hopefully catch us by surprise and exit between our legs. She has almost succeeded several times.

Feeling sorry for Na Na, as Brynny calls her, we threw around the idea of hooking up a tether system outside so she could go graze a bit on nice days. Today I was at Target and stopped by the cat section. Besides the usual rows of boxes of cats in stasis, peering with unseeing eyes out of their boxes, waiting to be dropped in the bathtub and be activated, I saw on the shelf a cat harness! I snapped it up.  It came with a nice bungee leash so you could take your kitty for strolls down the boulevard.

So, tonight, Nutty was prowling around while I was trying to wash dishes, letting out mournful howls and scurrying to the back door and looking at me suggestively. I took off my dish gloves and opened the harness. I actually got it on her pretty quickly since she didn’t know what was coming. As soon as I gave a little tug on the leash, however, she crouched and regarded me with extreme suspicion. She didn’t budge. So I picked her up and carried her outside. She liked that, all right!  I walked around the back yard with her for a few minutes while she nibbled and stalked leaves.  Every once in awhile she rolled over and attempted to claw the harness, but it seemed to be holding tight. The wind was picking up and I didn’t feel like spending my evening in the cold, dark backyard with my cat, so I brought her round front where I could easily look through the door and see how she was getting on. I tied the leash securely to the porch railing.

After about five minutes of washing dishes, I peeked through the glass in the door and to my consternation, there was the leash, tied to the rail, and there was the harness- dangling, empty! I ran out and looked all around. No Nutty. I called and tsked- nothing.  Finally, I got down on my knees and looked through the lattice to the crawl space under the porch. And there she was- a dim figure in the back somewhere, trying to figure out how she could get deeper into the little spaces under the house where sprickets dwell (look them up- a very interesting species of dark-crevice-habitating cricket/spider). She noticed me and trotted over to say hello through the lattice. I even felt her wet nose on my hand. And then she was out of reach.  At long last, she slipped under the lattice to see what lay outside.  I tiptoed after her, knowing that any sudden move could cause her to race off into the dark, never to be seen again. Suddenly, the neighbor’s dogs on the other side of the fence began to bark and poor, terrified Nutty went running. Lucky for me, straight into a corner between the garage and the fence. And that was the end of her adventure. I lunged, grabbed, and despite her wild struggles and swiping paws, deposited her safely inside the house.

Stay tuned for… “Cats in Space! One cat’s ride in a rocket after knocking over Christmas tree!”

I am looking for your recommendations, dear readers. Author recommendations. Or, less easy, people I should get to know. What I am talking about is this. Two of my great inspirers concerning the essential being of everything are Madeleine L’Engle and C.S. Lewis. When I read them, I somehow am launched out of my everyday survival mode into a place where the universe is strange and wondrous and undiscovered. I feel more Me and at the same time more one with everything else. Do you know what I am talking about? If you know any other authors I might get to know that have a connection to this sort of Being, please, leave a comment.

I am 31 today. Jill, how old are you? Of course, you do not have to divulge, but I would venture a guess at… 33?  I found out from a certain mutual acquaintance that today is your birthday too, so I could not resist wishing us both the heartiest of congratulations!  I hope your day was as fun as mine.

Brynny woke up at 5:30 this morning to make sure she could be the first to wish me Happy Birthday. But, my dear husband got up with her after her morning feed and let me go back to sleep, oh joy! It is such a luxury to sleep till 8:30 these days. And then that cute little baby head poked around the door just about then (held up by daddy) to make sure I was awake so we could get to church on time. And then I got a good snuggle from my Boodle who loves to come climb all over me.  I got to lie in a few minutes longer and treat myself to a few pages of the novel I am reading. And then… a cup of birthday keemun, a superb Chinese black tea I grew up drinking. A sweet gift from los parentes.

We had a very nice brunch at church and enjoyed socializing with our friends. There was no service today, just brunch.  Elijah ate quite a quantity of chocolate chip pancakes, waffles, and donuts.

Then, off to Annapolis!  I wanted to have a nice family day and it was gorgeous weather, so we went to walk around the grounds of the US Naval Academy. It made me want to be 18 and start off on some new glorious adventure. College was so exciting, wasn’t it? All the young cadets coming back to campus after Thanksgiving weekend in uniform.  It was all rather glamorous. I’m just not so sure I would be thrilled to graduate and go fight in a war. Brave men and women.

A very good day.  AND, I finally found the card reader for the camera, which had not been seen since before moving, so potentially soon you might see some pictures of our new abode.  Signing off to go devour some birthday treats…

We totally LOVE our new house. It’s just so awesome. I can’t believe it’s ours.  I love the colors, the character, the stained glass windows, the colorful Oriental rug they left for us, the kitchen with a gas stove, the basement with a door so we can put the cat down there at night without trying to barricade her in with baby gates… it’s a great house.

Today we went downtown to visit the Baltimore Central Library and get ourselves library cards. As we parked and walked up the street I just could hardly believe I really live in the city. The library is in a very city-ish area- tall buildings, pavement, but lots of old buildings with neat adornments and columns and such. The library is enormous and old- more neat touches everywhere. When we were waiting in line for our cards I encouraged Elijah to look around and point out neat things he found with his eyes. We especially liked the tall, massive bronze torch style lamp with a base of 3 wolf paws.  We took the elevator to the children’s room, which is quite large, and were just in time for a very enjoyable Mother Goose story time with lots of other babies Brynny’s age, but I think Elijah really enjoyed himself even though he was the oldest.  I noticed that he was much more participatory than he has been at other storytimes. I think it’s probably due to going to preschool where everyone is expected to participate in activities. So he was very happy to sing along and do all the hand motions, much more than I have ever seen him do.

So, I am pretty excited about living in Baltimore and indulging in city delights. I’m really a country-outdoors girl at heart, but I’ll try something new!  I’m also excited about the way our church is so involved in transformation of the city, because Baltimore may have its delights to enjoy, but they are interspersed by neighborhoods of abandoned homes and drug corners and violent schools. I feel like I am getting more used to driving down roads that suddenly go from well-kept lovely homes and gardens to boarded up row homes and broken windows, but it’s still kind of jarring. But I hope I never get too used to it because I WANT it to affect me- and be part of the transformation. I’m not sure what part I’m going to play yet, but I’m excited that God has brought us here and given us a heart for the city.