Family

… and am thoroughly enjoying my kids and cleaning.  I’ve been home
for almost two days and the house is almost back together from weeks of
mad activity.  I even slipped away to the doctor’s today for an x-ray.

Remember
the flower arrangement incident at Quilt Market? My foot has developed
a knobbily spot near the wound and the area occasionally sports a new
bruise with no obvious cause, making me think my foot just might have
broken that day.  It doesn’t hurt to walk or run, but I am sensitive to
shoes that put pressure on the top of my foot.  I had a peek at the
x-ray and didn’t see anything obviously amiss, but am pleased to have
enough breathing room to no longer neglect the mystery.  I should hear
back in a few days if there are any problems.  I’ll report.

Oh, and my finger is infected.  So strange.  No cause.  It’s swollen
up and throbbing like a cartoon injury.  I picked up some antibiotics
and am planning a few sleep-ins.  My recently over-worked self is ready
for some good TLC. Maybe I’ll even cash-in the gift certificate for a
professional masseuse that I received a couple of Mother’s Days ago. 

I have lots to share.  Lots.  So, I’ll pop in more frequently the
next while and try to catch up a bit.  I took photos here and there
over the last couple of weeks, but couldn’t eek out the time to post.
For instance, here’s that fabric, trimmed, folded and ready to kit.
That was a job.

I’m happy it’s done and am glad to be back.

My dad read through the recent posts about my brief trip to
Pennsylvania and my nagging hope to explore my early-childhood neighborhood,
sorted out that my one day was spent in West Chester, PA and presented
these photos to me at dinner last Sunday. 


I may not have made it to Cranberry, where I first lived, but it turns out that my father was born in West Chester, where I did go.  I wish I had known.  This was his first home. 


And here he is, the baby, being held by my grandmother, Bernice,
whom I never had the pleasure to meet.  Third from the left is Joyce,
Bernice’s sister, the same Joyce from August’s trip down memory lane.
Two of her children, the young man on the left and the teenage girl in
the middle, are the "double-cousins" I met that same day last summer.
Joyce has since passed, at a well-lived 96 or 97, as have many of the
folks in this photo, including my father’s older brother and sister,
his uncle and his grandmother.  My grandfather was undoubtedly the one
behind the camera — photography was his chosen hobby.  I know, funny
that I married a photographer, but I only have one memory of my
grandfather, so it’s sadly just a coincidence.

Anyhow, it looks like I’ll have even more exploring to do in
Pennsylvania one day.  It turns out my dad remembers all of his old
addresses.

Is it the first week of June already?  Whoa.

I’m leaving town again tomorrow.  I’m heading to Pennsylvania for a day.

And,
I’m being zapped by the nostalgia fairy.  She gets me good every now
and then.  I was born in Pittsburgh and spent the first few years of my
life in town called Cranberry (was that the name, Dad?).  We lived in a
big yellow house with a stream running through the backyard.  I rode
Spin-outs (a type of Big Wheel?)
in the basement with my brothers, ate fresh snap-peas in the garden,
hunted for turtles in the front yard, kept a glass hotel for fireflies,
walked to my tap-dance class down the street and only caught rare
glimpses of my pet cat, Zeek. 

I had a photographic memory as a child — they called me "Finder Girl," because I could find any misplaced thing
by "flipping through the pictures in my mind," as I described it.  I
could tell my parents exactly where to go.  That memory situation left
me with unusually clear recollections of a time that most folks don’t
remember, including many memories of being in my crib.  We moved away
from Pennsylvania when I was only four years old and that state’s had a
golden glow in my mind ever since. 

It’s been a life dream to make my way back there to cross-reference my
memories with reality.  The whole "someday I’ll take a trip to
Pennsylvania" thing.  And here I am, finally setting foot in
Pennsylvania, but with no time set aside for exploring.  I’m a bit
weirded out.  Does this make any sense?  I’m feeling a tad oh-my- I’m-going-to-Pennsylvania and a bit dang-I’m-skipping-the-dream-part — all at once.

Worthy of a post?  Hmmm.  Maybe not.  I do think I’ll be heading
there again.  Exploring my childhood haunts is on my short list of life
goals.  But, I can’t deny I’ll be eyeing the rental car booth at the
airport and calculating the added expense of extending my stay.

I had myself a nice break from the computer to visit the far away land
of Outside.  My friend, Katy, brought over some fresh eggs from her
backyard hen, pretty blue eggs worthy of photographing with a sprig of
lantana.

And I must have needed a serious break, because I was paparazzi-ing
those eggs like they were Lindsay Lohan.  A great excuse to enjoy a bit
of sun and a rest on our increasingly green grass (we hired a yard
guy).  One thing I can say about the desert is watch out for those flowers — you’ve never seen such intense colors.

There’s nothing sweeter than a new little baby.  And our family now has two new cuddly creatures to get to know – one niece and one nephew, both born last week.  Laura gave birth to baby Luke on April 15th.  Here’s a photo of Lily snuggled up to her long- awaited baby brother.  Their family went through a couple of adoption disappointments and a battery of treatments before a successful attempt at in vitro.  We’re all relieved and thrilled to have Luke here.  I hear Lily will even hold Luke through her mom’s entire shower.  Big sisters are the best!

Rachel (another of Isaac’s sisters) & Pip had baby Harper Lee on April 12th.  Does her name sound familiar?  Harper Lee was the author of To Kill a Mockingbird. I have yet to see her beautiful face, but Rachel did send me some diaper photos a couple weeks back.  Do you see her enthusiasm for her new little daughter in the glorious execution of these homemade diapers?  I do.  They’re beautiful.  They make cloth-diapering almost tempting : )

Harper is Rachel’s fifth child and first girl. Rachel is such a creative and nurturing soul — and hip as all get-out.  She’s going to have so much fun dolling up her new baby.  I’ll have to get her going on a blog so we can all be inspired. 

Laura’s been busy prepping for baby Luke the last few weeks as well.  You have GOT to check out his Scotty-Dog quilt (looks like there’s a bit of it in the photo above) and matching doll, and Laura’s hand-dyed onesie remakes (there’s a tutorial too).  Lots of love for these new little babies.

Yay!  Happy Easter.

I spent some good time outdoors and am feeling refreshed and ready for a week in the studio.  We did the egg-hunt/bubble-party thing at my parents’, along with a potluck feast.  (Sometime I’ll have to get you the recipe for my mom’s "Heart-Attack Potatoes" – everyone’s guilty favorite.)

And good news on the Martha Stewart thing —  Mary from Tennessee found a link to the episode with my fabric.  Follow this link and press play.  It’s the segment called "Sewing Machines."

I’ll be back soon with some clearer photos of Charlotte’s little Easter outfit (the gift from Kat I was telling you about. Talk
about good timing — over-the-top Springy duds just in time for Easter). Charlotte looked like a poster- child for the holiday (that, or a bowl full of ice cream).

And, no, I’m not expecting.  That’s just a billowy dress.

Prayer request!

Charlotte Rose was at a friend’s house on Friday night and fell off the bunk bed.  Her bottom front teeth were each split in two, exposing the roots and leaving two thin shards of enamel poking up into her little mouth.  She made it through the weekend on painkillers and Blues Clues videos.  Today we’re heading to the dentist where he’ll likely remove her teeth permanently. If that’s the case, then I have the horrible task of choosing between restraining her for the extraction or restraining her for an IV.  On many levels, I’m sad.

Those are her little missing thorns there in front.

It’s been difficult watching her figure out how to eat.  And she’s developing a lisp.  Yes, they are baby teeth, but she’ll be toothless for 5 years nevertheless.  I’m just sick.  Not to mention a threatening attack of the "If Onlies"…  If only I had gone to Sedona with my family.  If only I hadn’t switched babysitting nights with my friend.  If only I had known they had bunkbeds and reminded them that she’s barely 2.

Anyhow, it’s a difficult day and we could use some prayers if you’re so inclined — worked so well last time, thank you! 

Throw in a visit with Elijah’s principal to discuss some out-of-hand bullying our son’s been subjected to and well, it’s a quintessential Monday.

Here’s evidence that you shouldn’t get rid of your old, un-developed film rolls. 

Isaac said that my family’s old film would be ruined after so many years, but being a sappy nostalgic, I felt it was worth a try.  For years I was my family’s patron saint of neglected film, hording every un-developed roll, so no one would toss them out.  And look at what I found, a photo of my brother, Ryan, and I playing in the sand. (There was also a fabulous photo of my father posing shirtless on a dune buggie, ‘fro and all.)  It was so worth the expense of developing a few damaged rolls. 

I love this photo and the would-be-forgotten memories it carries.
My parents took on us regular vacations to the beaches of Florida, most
of which were too long ago for me to remember.  Now, here’s one memory I can come back to. 

This makes me happy on so many levels:

Messiness.  Sand everywhere.  Good times.

Ryan.  Ryan was such a cutie and incredibly generous, with the most infectious laugh, but he could be a real pest too.  Here we are, playing happily together.  And, ladies, let me add that Ryan grew up to look an awful lot like Leonardo DiCaprio.  But, alas, he’s taken.  His amazing wife looks like Raquel Welch.   

Figure heads.  See the shadows of my parents’ heads bobbing into frame?  Hovering for a photo, I can just imagine the love behind the camera, "Smile, kids!"  I’ve been there with my own children.

It’s black & white.  Mom and Dad have never been fans of colorless film.  How I stumbled across the one black and white roll they’ve ever taken, who knows?

Those bangs.  The day that I first had my short bangs cut as an adult, Isaac and I met up with my sister and her husband for a symphony performance of The Lord of The Rings that evening.  I leaned over for my sister’s first take on my new look and said, "Who do I look like?"  After a thoughtful pause that yielded no reply, I gittily pronounced, "Little girl me!"  Her response?  "Oh my gosh, you’re totally right!"

I knew it.  I knew I couldn’t throw away that film.