Up on deck:
–>Renae and her goeslings are coming for a whole week long visit next week. I get to hog her.
–>The annual Lake County Fair, a must keep tradition for our little Martens’ family.
–>Possible trip to Iowa City in early August to see family, help build a delux desk for Jason and maybe some interviews.
–>Knitting, knitting and more knitting. Why does it seem I could knit multiple hours every day and be just fine with that?
–>Some serious yard work and weeding is in store for my old knees and weathered hands.
–>Peach cobbler. The peaches are in; they are plentiful, perfectly ripe and cheap. Come one, come all.

But I hold on to some of my quirks and processes and call them good.

For instance, long ago I bought some lovely cotton sheets that have the kind of fitted pillow case that folds in at the end so there is no pillow exposed. Nice and neat and tucked in. And to make it even more precise and lovely, there are two sets of ties to cinch it.

Being an ESFJ, I like things done my way (because it is the correct and the only way) and I am very black and white in my thinking. This can be a wonderful thing (when it comes to administering chemotherapy) and it can be a curse (when it comes to whether or not the bell peppers are allowed to stay on the counter because the fridge is packed chock-full after hitting up three grocery stores [which they should not, by the way]).

Last night, as I was climbing into that glorious thing called a bed [isn't it great that God makes us lay down and sleep?], I went to straighten the sheets and blankets. This is another processes my INTP husband could do without. I swear I sleep poorly if my overlay sheet is askew. And then the light quilt we have on top must be laid the long way and not the short way. It must. Neurotic; maybe. I digress.

I straighten the sheet, then the quilt on the INTP’s side of the bed. I fluff his pillow and realize the aforementioned pillowcase is not properly tucked in, folded and tied. So I do that for him as well, as it should be.

I move to my side of the bed. Same sequence, same processes. I go to tuck, fold and tie the pillowcase and wouldn’t you know, someone has already done it for me.

That charming, carefree, fly by the seat of his pants, linger in the candlelight sort of guy has intentionally filled one of my processes because he knows me, he loves me. Ah, my heart was twitterpated and I felt known.

[I won't mention that he failed to match the cute floral pillow cases with the sheets that go with them, but rather put on bubble gum pink pajama cotton sheets instead. An ESFJ can't have it all, unless that is, she is bedfellows with another ESFJ and that could be really, really bad news.]

I love my husband and love how he serves me in these little ways.
And, thanks, husband for letting me rip off the sheets and quilts on cold winter nights when you are already tucked in so I can have them just so…to aid my sleep, of course.

Well, I chugged that Cadillac of a bike to the Waukegan beach and back. The whole time letting my old cotton dress flap in the wind showing a little white thigh, feeling sexy and carefree. It felt great.

And then tonight I went to my monthly Waukegan knitting guild meeting that met downtown at the Brick Cafe. I decided to bike it in a different skirt and loved it. I may start riding anywhere/everywhere that I can. The burly makes it entirely possible: grocery shopping, library, visiting friends, post office.

As I rode the bike tonight to knitting, it took me (literally) about one minute to figure out why it felt like I was gliding, almost flying and in a much harder gear than usual. And then it came to me, I don’t have all those children and gear in the back. I laughed aloud as I rode, scaring the neighbors…”There goes that crazy woman who’s skirt is flying up over her face laughing aloud to herself.” Ah, well, I felt alive and happy and free.

And then it comes to me: this past Saturday, I had an evening from hell, literally. I won’t get into it here but lets just say I found Scarlet with a black eye she got from falling down the stairs and AA covered in red fingernail polish, literally, legs and all. I still haven’t been able to laugh at this. It took me about two hours to find the grace of Jesus to cope with this and stop being angry and bursting into tears every minute or two. It was about this point that my sister and I started talking on good ‘ol gmail chat. I told her about my horrendous evening and long day and she said, “We are just going to have to plan a night sometime this week where we can have a glass of wine together and talk on the phone.” In which I replied, “You’ll have to buy the wine; I’m broke.”

So guess what was in those four boxes being hauled up my little path to my mud porch: wine. And groceries. Groceries we really did need and literally have not an extra dollar to spare on the basics such as milk, eggs, yogurt and bread, which were all in those four boxes. And let’s not forget the peanut M&M’s. Those are for PMS desperate moments, she tells me.

And I just can’t help but think about that Christianese, borderline-cheese verse in the Bible that really is quite deep and true: we comfort with the comfort we have been given. Same goes for generosity: we give generously with the generosity that has been show towards us.

Thank you, Dana, for being a regular in-the-flesh portrait of God to me.
I was blessed by that big green truck. I was blessed by you. And I have sure enjoyed talking on the phone this evening on the lovely front porch with my little seedlings in earshot with a glass of Shiraz in my hand.

BTW, Ivan has inspired me to get back on the blog bandwagon. He suggested I try to blog Mon, Wed, Fri. So I will attempt this great feat. Get me back on your blog roll, pretty please.

Yes, this is how exciting my life is and how low I have slid. Felt super low this morning, glum and teary; recognizing and feeling some more loss, namely friendships.

I took Audrey over to Timmy and Wescott’s, her beloved friends, and Scarlet and I proceeded to finish up the grocery shopping at Lewis Fresh Foods. I am one of those mom’s that shops at 3-4 different stores to get the cheapest, very specific and most fresh foods that I need. Our fridge and pantry were bare, literally, after going away for the holiday so I have been on a stock piling spree.

Scarlet and I arrive and this time I remembered a quarter (just like Aldi’s where you have to “rent” the shopping cart). Last time I forgot. It’s tough gathering groceries with a whining three year old who wants candy around every corner and a 23 pound one year old who isn’t quite ready to be cruising through a store at a fast clip on her own two legs. Needless to say, heavy loads and high stress with an F-word thrown in there.

I had one of those shopping excursions today where you have some leisure time to simply peruse. And, friends, this is the store to do it in. They have the most amazing things in this store. First, you start in produce where you can find every pepper known to the Latino world. You can usually buy 10 limes for a dollar even in the winter. And the mushrooms; have I told you lately how much I love mushrooms?
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Every time I come here I am simply amazed. They have an aisle for all Indian foods. The whole bottom two rows along one aisle are almost entirely legumes. Jasmine rice, basmati, wild rice, brown rice, all different kinds and brands. Greek foods abound with the best selection of reasonably priced olive oil. There is an aisle that is all varieties of Asian foods including a whole selection of Filipino foods, which I recognize from my summer in Manila. I walked down the aisle marked “International foods, European favorites, Yugoslavian groceries, Lithuanian and Polish groceries”. Amazing! There are some really interesting jars of something-or-others on the shelves. And since we live in a primarily Latino neighborhood, the store abounds with anything and everything you might need to cook authentic Mexican food. Yumm.
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I realized I have been spending way too much on my roasted bell peppers at Walmart. You can get a huge jar of them for 1/2 the price at this place. I found banana leaves; what do you do with those? I found myself wanting someone from each of these cultures to walk around with me and explain what you might use some of these ingredients for in cooking. I had the brilliant thought to start reading up on ethnic cooking and check out some cookbooks at the local library. I have every ingredient at my disposal here. I found myself in sheer delight and celebration of other cultures. How wonderful that we are not all the same.

I was entirely refreshed after my hour long walk through this grocery store.

Highlight of my day #2: doing dishes while listening to music.

The other moment today that lifted by sorrowful heart was when I found myself worshiping with my dish gloved hands high in the air rocking out to Kim Walker. You know you are desperate for some Jesus-connection when you have purple plastic gloves dripping with soapy water high in the air, praising. I can’t remember the last time I really worshiped. I was reminded by a Matt Redman oldie-but-goodie song that I am invited to worship despite my circumstances, to worship because of who I know God to be and his affection for me. I had forgotten this. You give and take away, my heart will choose to say, BLESSED BE YOUR NAME.

And one last highlight of my day #3: hugs from Scarlet.
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Here is to another wonderful, less grief filled, more abundance filled six years of knowing one another even more and walking the journey close together.

We have recently tacked on an additional discipline or two: 10 push-ups and 10 sit-ups. Um. We are seriously out of shape. Yesterday was the first of the 10′s. The prayer part was easy but the sit-ups almost killed me. And I could not stop laughing when Ivan attempted his sit-ups and I held his feet. I thought he was playing around at first, but he wasn’t. You will have to ask him what happened.

Needless to say, I am hoping the 10′s have some fruitful effect. If nothing else, we can giggle together and hope that someday we won’t have a beer gut and 2 babies later chub.

Here’s to the 10′s!

I recently discovered a new musician that I enjoy and groove with in a kindred spirit sort of way: Chris Pureka. Her voice streams through the house this evening like little rivulets and streams that form after a quick, hard rain in the height of summer in the Midwest.

Some news that prefaces this next part: Ivan recently acquired a new job which has allowed me to leave my week day job at the cancer clinic I have worked at for seven years. There will be a post about this goodbye for it was super bittersweet in my little heart. Now that I am not working during the week (and just doing a weekend job which has a lot of flexibility) I can enjoy “keeping house” like the old days. I know I sound corny and quite old fashioned, but I really do love caring for my home, creating niches, sorting laundry, watering the flowers, having an afternoon to make a delicious meal at a slow and leisurely pace. It has returned to me like old and worn leather reigns in my hands and I love the feel of them. I am finding that I am very good at filling empty time in my schedule but am doing my best to guard time and space to just be, to enjoy my children, and to keep house.

So this evening was one of those lovely nights where I seemed to have a plethora of time on my hands to hang curtains, play with my children, water my vegetable garden and all those dry baskets I have neglected, put together a delicious salad and use stuff in the fridge to put together a nutritious and tasty dinner, and then linger with Aunt Wanda and LoAnn at the kitchen nook. After a bit, I took Audrey Anne upstairs and did all our bedtime “processes” and read her a story, with a-kiss-and-a -hug included.

I came downstairs and started sprucing. My family is coming into town for a few days for the musical festival in Chicago: Lollapalooza. Made up the beds with fresh cotton sheets spritzed with rose linen spray, picked up all the toys strewn like a mini tornado debris, straightened up the back mud porch that is essentially our entry way to the house (we are a backdoor sort of people) and then I started lighting candles.

Why do I not light candles more often? They lend such a whimsical and fairy like air to the ol’ house. LoAnn had some old lantern encasing’s for tealights that I put on the upstairs balcony that has cascading impatiens and chartruse vines with a little water fountain. I lit the candles on the radiator in front of the bay window with all the orchids in their glory. I lit a candle on the back stoop to light the way. I lit some fat dusty green taper candles in staggered heights on the piano.

I am in heaven.
And I am writing to you.

This summer I am all about dresses. Wrap dresses and cozy cotton summer dresses (which I am pretty sure Clinton and Stacey might not approve because I might say the “C” word (“comfortable”) when describing these dresses. Dresses are so easy. And I feel a little more dolled up then in some grungy work pants or Capri’s that are too tight in the ass. Today I wore a well fitted cotton sleeveless dress in shades of burnt red and a warm salmon like color swirled in. My sister found it for me at some thrift store in Iowa City. It works.

I left Ivan and Audrey napping this afternoon and Scarlet and I went to run a slew of errands. All those ones that you ignore and forget about but it would feel [oh so good] to get it off the “to do” list, you know. Like returning library books, taking back the DVD’s, picking up prescriptions, taking the dry cleaning in, picking up those last minute gifts for people. But I got it all done including heading all the way out to Grayslake to my favorite yarn shop for another skein of the cozy yarn I am using for Scarlet’s comfort blanket. [I am having an eery feeling that Scarlet might not find this little blankie so cuddly as I hope she might. Alas...]

We are heading out to Iowa City (for those of you Chicagoans who aren’t familiar which way Iowa is (and you are out there), we are heading due West and a bit South for about four hours until we hit my Alma mater and the home of my parents, Kevin and Trudi Anne. First stop will be a joyous celebration with my ol’ chum Alina who recently brought home her second son from Ethiopia. I am confident I will weep. I get weepy when I hear her story and see the photos of her glittering peaceful face. God is good in providing all these babies.

And lastly, what I have been avoiding for about two weeks now I finally plunged into and just dealt with it: cleaning off my desk and paying the bills. Yuck. Let me say it again: YUCK. But it wasn’t as bad as my denial prone insides were thinking it might be. Somehow, someway we keep paying our mortgage, having food on the table to feed our children, cars that have very little maintenance, and all the other little amenities we might feel we need. It continues to settle in that we are going to be okay. Somehow, someway. But mostly because He cares about us and sees us and is vested in our welfare.

A funny I leave with you…
Last night Ivan and I were partaking in a regular routine of oozing with endearment for our two daughters. It usually starts with something like this: “Scarlet is so cuuuute.” And it is said in a cutesy, cuddly and mama/papa sort of voice. And this starts us off in telling stories of what are children did today to further endear us to them and what funny thing Audrey said. Last night it started as it usually does and then Ivan starts talking about how Scarlet always kicks like some professional swimmer swimming for dear life from a ferocious shark. And then he calls her, “Scarlet Phelps”. And I just bust a gut laughing. I had an image of her seemingly constant smiling face photo shopped over Michael’s body, standing there in his speedo with all his gold metals around his neck. And I guess it just hit a really large funny bone. I guess you have to see Scarlet do her “Phelps” moves on the changing table and it might strike you as funny too. Just maybe…

I love my daughters, very much.