The End.

This afternoon, I will drive to MSU for my very last class.
My assignments are all done. I still have to email my last paper. But I'm done. I'm not sure I quite believe it, actually. But this is the end.

Tomorrow, when Ryan is done working, we'll leave for the cabin.

There are piles of clean laundry to be folded, and suitcases that need to be packed. The house needs some serious attention, but the mountain of dirty dishes is gone. The kitchen is actually quite functional now. I've been a little productive, but mostly the girls and I have been playing all morning. Maya figured out how to play most of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star on the piano today. She was trying last night..and this morning, she got it. Finding that first interval was really hard, she kept guessing and getting frustrated. I'm not sure how she memorized her starting note, or the distance between do and sol, but she's got it down now. It is so fun to watch her working at something with such focus..and then experiencing the delight of realizing her success. It's pretty magical to watch. We've listened to a short Youtube excerpt of Swan Lake again and again. She wants to figure that one out next. That, and Vivaldi's Spring. Sequential learning is just so tedious.



I'll get more laundry/cleaning/packing done tonight and tomorrow.

cabin weekend in pictures

It seemed more formidable in the middle of the night, blocking the road to the cabin in the thickness of the dark woods.

In the daylight, Ryan saw that he could move it with just a hand saw and his bare hands. Well, gloved hands. It only took a few minutes.Watching him move the giant obstacle out of the cabin road reminded me of our first cabin trip alone together almost eight years ago. When we arrived on our honeymoon to a very similar sight, he didn't hesitate at all to move the tree with his bare hands! (But this time, our desperation for sleep, the midnight darkness, and the two sleeping children in the car made the hotel decision pretty easy to make.)
The girls were excited to wake up in a hotel, though Maya was confused when she first looked around, "how do we get out of here, Daddy?"
Just sleeping in their own big bed together was enough to satisfy their hunger for adventure...but when they found out about the continental breakfast and the POOL they were really impressed.
After a quick swim in a very cold pool, we were all ready to finally head to the cabin.
The first breath of cabin air was more refreshing, healing, and comforting than I ever remember. I have seldom arrived at the cabin in the morning. Usually, the long drive north brings us to the cabin by the late afternoon, or sunset, or most often...total darkness. The first glimpse of the sparkling water through the cedar trees, the rhythm of our feet hitting the stone path to the dock, the creaking of the hinges on the wooden screen door and that wonderful slap of the wood when it closes...all seemed even better this time. I think my pleasure was made richer by the wonder (that I've always felt) shining on the faces of my girls too. Maya remembered so much from last year, but she seemed to soak it in with more awareness and love this time.
Sophia was wide-eyed and eager for every new surprise. The cozy little lamp on the top bunk in the 'kid' bedroom was her first delight.

But the attic, where we all slept was the place the girls loved most. Maya loved the fact that she could see the stone chimney going up through the roof. They could have played in the attic pretending they were Laura and Mary in their "Little House" all weekend if we hadn't forced them to find other cabin adventures...



(a friendly dog named "Sophie" at the Creekside Gallery)

Sophie was a big fan of s'mores. She only had one...of the half cracker size...but I think that chocolate was to blame (in part) for the terrible bedtime we had later. They did NOT want to fall asleep.


One morning, I even woke to sunlight streaming in the open window above my head, birds calling, the bubbling sound of coffee brewing and a crackling cedar wood fire.

We're hardly ever this spontaneous...

...but tomorrow, after Ryan's done working, we are driving NORTH.

We just decided this morning that this beautiful cabin weather should not be wasted over a long holiday weekend. "Treasure Island" just cannot sit empty.

So I'm drinking my coffee to get me through the loads of laundry and cleaning and packing that must happen tonight.

I still can't believe it. I feel just as excited as I did when I was a little girl on the eve of the cabin trip.

Even if it is 80 degrees, I'm sitting by this fire on Saturday morning. My soul has been missing that crackling sound.

"Read a Island story!!"

...after a non-verbal look of correction from Mom: (in a sugary sweet voice) "T(c)ould you peas read a Island story??"

"Once there were two girls. One morning they woke up in their bunk beds to hear the sound of a crackling fire and a rocking chair. They were so excited when they remembered that they were at the cabin. The smell of coffee floated into their room, and they knew that Bampa was up, reading in the rocking chair. They tried to plan their adventures for the day...a canoe trip? a walk in the forest? building a fort? a trip to the library?..."

...The two girls always end up on an island. Rock Island. They are usually with lots of cousins. And they often encounter some ducks, swans, deer, or maybe even Charlie Chipmunk or Sammy Squirrel. They get very tired as they travel back to the cabin. Bampa reads them a story and tucks them into their very special bunk beds (where Momma used to sleep when she was a little girl).

I think everyone in this house is missing the cabin.

In four days...

I'll be here...



with my two favorite people.

my mind is here today...

the cabin...again!!

In July, I dreamed of the cabin...
"Mornings at the cabin are some of my happiest memories. Waking up to the sound of a crackling fire and the smell of coffee, and peeking out of my room to see my dad, reading by the fire.
I think I can imagine the cabin more vividly than any other place in my past. I can almost hear the sound of the hinged screen door swinging open and banging shut, and feet crunching accross the stones in the driveway, crickets chirping, the smell of cedar and grass and smoke..."

Again, my senses are anticipating the comforting familiarity of this peaceful place.

tomorrow.

(Sorry Andrea, I couldn't resist stealing your picture. The chair at the end of the dock looks like the most perfect place on earth.)

Some of my favorite things...

...last night I had a dream about isaac and will. There was no plot. Just lots of happy smiles and Will's 'cooing' laughter. It was so comforting and beautiful.

...I had this dream around 7:45 AM. Yes, that's right, I was still sleeping then. I have Mondays off.

...Before I went to sleep last night, I got to spend time with my very best friend, Mandy, who lives too far away. While we shared warm bread and olive oil, we enjoyed talking about lots of fun things. I always feel so loved and comfortable with Mandy. She is the best kind of friend. I miss her already.



...On Saturday, I had a total of 6 phone calls that all started with singing (usually the whole song) "Happy Birthday to you..."
One of the phone calls included several singers...of whom a few continued to sing the song over and over for the entire phone call...screaming "CHA CHA CHA" each time they ended.



...Living next door to these two amazing kids allows me to hear their laughter in the backyard and see their tricks on the trampoline. Sometimes we can hear them outside of our window in the morning, leaving for school. I even get to be their music teacher at school too. I think that is my favorite part of my job.

...This Thursday, Ryan and I will be starting a dance class in Grand Haven for eight weeks. He is the best gift-giver I have ever known. (This is truly a sacrificial gift. I think he is dreading it, but he knows how much I love to dance with him.)

...Tonight, I will be going to my art class (another present from my sweet husband-from a birthday two years ago).

...In less than a month, I get to spend a long weekend at the cabin with this wonderful man, and two of our really good friends.

...I have many encouraging friends who listen when I whine about my disapointment and wounded pride. People who know the right things to say to help me heal and remind me of all the joy in my life too. Thank you.

at 5:30 this morning...

...i woke up to bring Ryan to the airport. He's flying to Vermont then traveling to Montreal tomorrow. I miss him already.
We've had so much fun on vacation. The cabin was so peaceful. Ryan kept saying, "I really could live here....I could do this all the time." I wasn't quite as enthusiastic about taking up permanent residence in the middle of nowhere, but I could have spent several more weeks in that kind of solitude.
I think Ryan must have read my blog... about waking up to the sound of a crackling fire and peeking out of my room to see my dad. The first morning we were there, he woke up first, built a fire, made coffee, and waited for me. Sometimes I wish I could freeze perfect, contended moments like that. Live in them always. I do wonder how often I fail to catch those moments even while they are occuring...and don't reallize I'll miss them when they're gone.



Our time at the cabin was filled with canoe rides, long talks, lots of laughing together, dinner at sunset on the dock, biking around Mackinaw Island, driving the Scenic Highway, getting ice cream in Hessel, getting ice cream in Cedarville, more ice cream in Hessel, reading by the fire, reading in the sun, reading at the new library, reading in the car, reading in the hammock, and lots of rest. I could spend every day with Ryan. He's been my husband for almost three years, we've been together for...seven! But I don't think I've ever had more fun with him than now. I love dreaming and praying together about our future, what we hope to accomplish, what we value, who we hope to become, how we can be more authentic with our faith, what kind of parents we will be someday.

I don't like business trips.

One of the many books that filled my cabin time...

Just finished
Blue Like Jazz: Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality
By Donald Miller

Similar to Anne Lamotte's Travelling Mercies (a book that greatly impacted my understanding of faith), Blue Like Jazz is Donald Miller's written thoughts on life, faith, relationships, and culture. I identified so much with his frustrations with some aspects of fundamentalism, and the republican-supporting churches in his background, his desire to be authentic, and the honest perceptions of his own inconsistencies.
I was convicted and frustrated with myself as I read his words and saw my own selfishness described on the pages. Having a very similar church background, and going through some of the same changes in my though patterns and values, I was expecting to be annoyed with his overly wordy, liberal, Bush-bashing rantings and immature cynicism. I feel some of the same frustrations with the governement, with war, with Christians who blindly vote for one party, who would like to saint George Bush (he is only human), who think that the church exists to wipe out homosexuals and liberals. Yet I get tired of hearing people go on and on about those frustrations too.
After reading the first chapter, I was expecting the whole book to be just that. Cynical rantings and immature criticisms of the church without any personal introspection.
But it wasn't that.
After expressing his thoughts...he came to the conclusion that I have to face as well.
"I am the problem."
"More than my questions about the efficacy of social action were my questions about my own motives. Do I want social justice for the oppressed, or do I just want to be known as a socially active person?"

Am i really interested in meeting the needs of people around me? Am I doing that? Or am I just talking about it, and criticizing the church for not doing it?

His deep longing for real connection with God confronted me with my own self sufficiency. Lately I haven't been really longing for God. I sometimes don't need Him. I mean, I do. But I don't recognize my need. I just sometimes think I'm bored, or lonely, misunderstood, empty, and I do something to feel better- like read, or eat, or excercise, or BLOG!!
I don't go to my Maker who already knows my emptiness and longs to fill it.

I did learn alot about myself reading this book. But now I'm reading another recently written memoir, "Girl Meets God" and find it even more provoking. The author is so full of depth. I could just keep reading and reading her thoughts--while "Blue Like Jazz" kindof just seemed to go on and on.

more of my thoughts on books I'm reading