I've been hunting

...for the original clothes for my American Girl "Kirsten" doll ever since I brought her out of storage for Maya and Sophie to play with. Until a few months ago, she was packed up in a clear zippered bag on a shelf in the basement, just waiting for the day my daughters were ready.

This summer, when one of Maya's generous friends decided to just GIVE her an (extra) American Girl doll...(and a Bitty Baby for Sophie, and dresses and accessories, etc.) it was time. I decided to get my Kirsten out, so that when another friend came over to play (that same day), they could play together. But my doll had no clothes. I just knew that they were packed away carefully in a shoe box...somewhere. I asked my parents to search my old closet, the garage storage, the crawl space...

When I was little, I knew that ownership of such a doll was no small thing. In fact, no one gave her to me. I'm pretty sure I knew better than to even ask. I carefully studied (or memorized) the catalog as I saved my money...for...years. When I finally had the $90, I ordered her.

Just the doll. Not the extra accessories...

Not any of the other outfits or books or furniture either. I made those. I sewed a detailed quilt by hand, my dad built a poster bed, and I made pillows, a sham, a fitted sheet & top sheet, I made her an apron, my mother sewed her an extra dress. I loved this doll. And I loved the historic time she represented and all the ways she excited my imagination.

I do have issues with the whole game that the "American Girl" company runs. While there are a few great ideals wrapped up in the "American Girl" package, it mostly seems to be a slick and brilliant business, marketing endless products and accessories, all exhorbitantly priced, offering branding and identity shaping, early materialism building.... The whole machine makes me a bit cynical.

But I'm obviously still (a little?) guiltily hooked. I try to be a skeptic, but deep down, it's really hopeless for me.

After that day that I pulled my Kirsten out of storage, I did a little internet searching on her. She's 'retired' now, and sells for over $300 new. Not that I'd ever try to sell her (she's not in good enough shape if I did)...I was however a bit more desperate to find those original clothes. I called my parents again. I went there and dug through my old closet myself. No luck.

Tonight, as Ryan pulled down the Christmas boxes from the garage attic, he found a box, a huge forgotten plastic tub. He thought it might hold some of my childhood things. He was right. It was filled with baby blankets and six labeled shoe boxes, each a treasure chest for a sentimental mother of two little daughters. Inside the tub, I found my old Madame Alexander baby doll from my Aunt Connie, my only "Barbie" (not a real worldly Barbie, of course. Mine was actually a Biblical "Esther" doll purchased at the local Christian book store), my Hatian doll (brought back by missionaries), a white and pink quilt from my bed, a few of my prettiest baby clothes, several doll dresses, and my beloved "Sarah" cabbage patch doll.

I had a handsewn "cabbage patch-wanna-be doll" for a long time (that someone made lovingly for me, I'm sure), but it just was never the same to me. I always wanted a real one, like all my friends had. When I was seriously ill in the hospital as a five-year-old, my next-door neighbors bought one for me. I still remember opening the box in my hospital bed. She had long brown hair and brown eyes like mine. She wore authentic cabbage patch accessories, white & pink pin-stripe jeans, white tennis shoes with pink stripes, a pink rain jacket (all found preserved in this magical bin). Owning her then made me feel SO rich.

And in the box on the bottom, Kirsten's things. The pillow I made for her bed with a ruffled edge and heart hand stiched in the center, a red flannel nightgown (which will be perfect for our Corbin family Christmas red-flannel pajamas tradition) and Kirsten's original dress and apron.

I'm full of once forgotten memories now, and...pretty excited to reveal my treasures in the morning to my two sleeping girls.

Our Little House

When Laura left home to take her first teaching assignment, she stayed with the Brewster family in a town 12 miles away. Every night of her stay was miserable, awkward, cold, and sometimes frightening. The Brewster family was very unhappy, their child neglected, their home a mess, and their words were always bitter and angry. Sometimes there was cold silence for evenings on end, broken only by loud arguments and hateful words screamed all night long.
Although Laura never told anyone about her miserable lodgings, Almanzo came to the little school every Friday to bring Laura home for the weekend. She realized, as she left one world and entered another, that her home was warm and safe because of the love and kindness that her family had for one another. There were no angry words, no selfish complaints, no sharp arguments. Everyone did a great deal of work to provide for one another. The chores were hard and never ending, but everyone helped each other willingly with love and gratitude.


I wonder how much, if any, of this story is fiction. It doesn't really matter. I still love the contrasting pictures of family life.

And I use the images of the two women, Mrs. Brewster and Ma Ingalls to remind myself of the kind of mother I want my girls to remember. The kind of home I want to build. The sort of memories I want my daughters to have of how they felt...when they were home.

I have to admit, I also use the story to teach my girls about the effects of their words too. When I hear them yelling, arguing, whining, I sometimes ask "What kind of words do we want to fill our home with?"

I'm just waiting for the day when they turn around and ask me that same question.

So many things...

...to be grateful for. And so many things to blog about.

I keep checking this blog, so disappointed each time to see that nothing has changed. Somebody better start posting here!

You'd think with a summer of freedom and rest, with heaps of decadent time spent with family and friends... that my fingers would ache to express my joy and share my stories.

Yet despite my delightfully short to-do list and our full social calendar, I've been rather silent here.

A few summer highlights that deserve more words (and pictures) but may or may not be revisited in future posts:

• a full week spent at the cabin (overlapping with brother, Daniel and boys)
• my new love for kayaking
• Mackinac Island
• a plentiful summer garden
• fresh summer salads and fruit pies
• home organizing projects
• my new jewelry display, made from an old printer drawer
  
• new bedding (I finally made our bed pretty after 9 years of marriage)
• beach days with friends
• pool days with friends and family
• Grand Haven boardwalk dates
• a long and delightful 'ladies night' spent telling stories with some beautiful women on the patio at The Lake House
  
• college girls reunion (they came from Denver, Chicago, and Cincinnati for a 3-night sleep-over at my house)
• beach day with Ryan and girls
• Baby Camden Paul Fisher's birth

home for sale

Warning: This is a post with an ulterior motive. Though I am speaking in my authentic "Angela voice"...I'm also trying to sell you my house. Proceed with caution.


We don't really want to leave our house. Honestly, we love it. The cozy new fireplace in the basement is one of our favorite places on earth. In fact, the whole house just seems cozy and warm...even when it's messy (which has been more often than I like lately). We love this house, inside and out. In the summer time, we love being outside in the yard (with underground sprinkling), picking fruit, herbs, and vegetables from the gardens, gathering with friends around the fire-pit... roasting marshmallows, or sitting on the front porch talking to our neighbors. The quiet street is perfect for riding bikes and walking.

The open space between the kitchen and living room is ideal for our busy kids who like to be close to me while I'm in the kitchen or doing laundry (they also enjoy chasing each other around and around the island. The girls have the upstairs to them selves, with bedrooms with the cape-cod ceilings that I've always loved and their own bathroom to share.

Living in a new house is a luxury I never imagined myself enjoying...I have actually always liked old houses better (the charm, the character, the quirks, the hardwood, and plaster, crown moldings, and built-ins, the possibilities, and the creativity required to see past wallpaper and dirty carpet)...

But the open floor plan, main floor laundry, fresh clean bathrooms and kitchen.... and lack of projects requiring demolition have been perfect for our family. Though I've been anti-carpet/ pro-restored-hardwood in the past, I have to admit, the carpet has been wonderful for our babies and small children. In fact, we'll be happy to stay here for a long time.











But...we may have found our 'dream' (project) house...

(an old brick colonial requiring TONS of work but holding incredible 'potential') in a great location at a great price (It's a "buyer's market," you know). And while we're a little nervous about the 'risk'...we're usually up for adventure (especially when it feels a little spontaneous). For the most part, we're boring, 'safe' people. But this house seems worth the leap.

So there is a sign in our front yard.




And, if you'd like to buy our "newish," cute little cape-cod with four bedrooms, and 2 and a half baths, a newly finished basement (wired for surround sound and set up for a 'theatre' room with a fireplace),...you can call for a showing and check out our realtor's listing here.

Soon..we'll have to have a party...

It's not huge, but it will drastically increase the living space in our little house.

The basement is almost done!

A guest bedroom...just in time for the Holidays, come and visit!

Tile for the floor in front of the fireplace...Ryan finished the grout last night.

There is even more progress now...paint on the walls, tile in front of the fire, and carpet arriving on Friday.

More pictures coming soon.

our life these days. (6 posts in 1)

an overwhelming September...
The new fall routine hit us hard.

Maya, our pre-schooler, now has early morning places to be...dressed, fed, and off to school by 8 AM on Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays. Last year on all our early mornings (there were only 2)...we used to just carry the sleepy girls out to the car...all bundled up in their pajamas...and head to Grandma's house. The new weekday morning routine requires a lot more preparation and early rising every day.

My new school schedule was another hard adjustment. Three long full days of teaching approximately two hundred students daily, ranging in age from six to eighteen was a drastic change from last year's two mornings a week.
By week 2, both Sophie and I were pretty sick...allergies and asthma mostly. Her Albuterol and my Nyquil got us through some miserable sleepless nights together. She could hardly breathe, my voice was gone, and my headaches never seemed to go away.
Even if I'd been healthy, the planning and preparation of being a new teacher (again) was slightly unnerving at first (and will probably be again...especially in December...and May). There was so much paper-work, information gathering, communication, question asking,...on top of meetings, new colleagues, new and unknown expectations, hundreds of new names, curriculum planning, daily lesson planning for a completely new kind of teaching experience...on top of the older routines of my other school's curriculum planning/adjusting, daily lesson planning, communication...etc.
Mostly though, the new routine brought new worry, guilt, anguish, fear, regret...over the separation from my girls, their adjustment (and mine) to the new routines and more time apart. I felt like I was drowning in it all for a while. And I wasn't positive that I would surface before June. Honestly, I've been surviving only because of Ryan, and the fact the we live in (incredibly de-pendent) community with our parents and siblings, and some really good friends.

But by the end of September, my perspective was a little less cluttered...(unlike my house)...and the girls seem to be delighted to spend a little more time with their Grandmas, my students have made the teaching fun and rewarding, I have a classroom stocked with almost 40 little violins that make my new second graders smile every time they open their magical cases, the planning seems to be working, and I'm finally feeling more settled, grateful, excited, hopeful, at peace about all that is new this year.

two new family traditions forged this month...
The Cherokee for breakfast. We had forgotten. Though we used to be Saturday morning 'regulars' when we lived on Forest Hills, we sort-of abandoned the place once we had Maya. But we wandered through town last weekend and ended up there. We've already returned once, and this time we were wise enough to order a bit less food.

Hoffmaster State Park...and hiking in the cold. A few times now, after a quick dinner, we've escaped to the wooded dunes to catch some wind and golden sunlight on Lake Michigan. We also used our State Park sticker for a spontaneous late-night visit to Uncle Daniel, Isaac, and Will's campsite for s'mores.

alone time with Sophia...
While Maya floats from Pre-school to AWANA and back to Pre-school during the week, Sophie has enjoyed some rare individual attention. She doesn't stop thinking...or talking...or moving. Ever. And her spinning, hilarious thoughts make my life a LOT more fun.

a new family experience...
Instant Netflix...on our new TV. A significant viewing difference from our tiny laptop screen. But...I'm not sure how I feel about 'high definition.' Generally, I love the intensity, the clarity, the beauty of the picture. But, everything looks too...real? Like some of the magic is gone, and the actors just seem like actors. The lighting seems strange and artificial, I can tell how much make-up they are wearing, and even if they have cellulite. It almost looks like incredibly high-quality home video. I suppose I'll get used to it. But I'm not convinced.

a broken camera...
Our digital camera has been struggling for about a year now... and it finally gave up about a month ago. Maybe its demise has caused my lack of inspiration here. I do love to post pictures, and having none, my posts are few. My phone has been the only photo-documentation devise lately...and those pictures usually end up on facebook.

treasured weekends...
The weeks now seem to fly by in a stressful, exhausting frenzy. So Friday feels like a new blessing each time it arrives. Our first October weekend was spent mostly at home, working and playing. Ryan's been running wires in the basement, the girls have had fun playing with us and with each other..and have pulled out every toy, book, and puzzle they own (and put some of them away), and I've almost conquered the laundry folding...and re-organizing of new sizes and seasons of girls' clothes. Clothes are laid out for the early morning...and most of the lesson plans for the week are ready. And there is still Monday to enjoy..mostly at home.

...As I write this, the weekend has officially ended, and I must sleep. It seems I don't have the time to contemplate, or breathe, or blog very often. Hopefully, October will allow for more settled routines and more time to reflect.

If I had these...

I think I would put them on everything. It could be dangerous...I don't know if I would know when to stop. I just love how they give everything a place and a name.

This is where Ryan's unique personality and my own have been woven together. His love of structure and pattern and predictability is usually at odds with my scattered, unpredictable intensity-for-too-many-things to maintain a lot of order. But labels are one of many things that bring us together. We both treasure the beauty and function of labels.

When we were newlyweds...moving for the first time (from Vermilion, OH back to MI) we had a lot of time to pack. We put everything (except large furniture) into matching plastic bins. No mismatched cardboard for us. We watched for sales and snatched up all the green bins in Sandusky and Vermilion. Ryan created four computer labels for each box with highly detailed lists of all the contents, stating where it should go, and exactly how much it weighed. The scale sat next to the desk, so each box could be weighed before being perfectly labeled on four sides.
It was delightful.

We never get to enjoy such silly pleasures any more. We just have too much stuff...and too little time. We may have lost a little of that enthusiasm too.

But fresh labels still provide a little rush.

Romaine, basil, mint, red pepper...

...green onions, beefsteak tomatoes, cucumber, and green beans.

Our first attempt to grow food.

We may have been a little over-zealous in our quantity, for such a small garden. Some of the cucumber plants (that Ryan and Maya started as seeds) already seem to be a little scrunched and choked....or maybe they're just wimpy. But most of the other plants are still looking quite hopeful.



I'm mildly concerned about the hungry animals that make their home in our yard. Do squirrels like to eat lettuce and tomatoes? I've only ever seen one 'Peter Rabbit' in our yard this year...but we do have squirrels in abundance.

But if the rabbits and squirrels don't steal it all, we may have some very fresh salad at our house this summer for our friends who come to visit.

You'll have to wait a few weeks though.

Of course you're still welcome to come sooner if you're not just in it for our organic food.

Merry Christmas from the Corbins!

You might get a card in the mail too. But if you do, it'll be late. I think I mailed about 7 cards on time...then I ran out of stamps. Christmas day is just 14 minutes away from being over. Hope your day was full of Love.

Check. Check.

AND...



...we enjoyed Chicken Tiki Masala for dinner.


I love completed list items.

Another nap-time has begun.
Now on to the messy house, ironing, ...and boxes of books.

Or maybe pumpkin pie??