Thank you for your words of encouragement and concern for our little upchucker. I especially loved Karyn’s containment idea involving a plastic shower curtain and a large dishpan; I’m filing that one away for next time. Meanwhile, the shifting tectonic layers inside Caleb’s digestive system are starting to settle, and the eruptions have ceased. Well, from that end, anyway. We’re still having some detonation issues on the southern border. But that’s material for another post altogether, and I’ve already exceeded my yearly blog limit on descriptions of gross bodily functions.
Last weekend’s massive windstorm blew down trees and signs and power lines all over town. There’s something so forlorn about seeing naked tree roots turned up to the sky, ripped from the warm ground and exposed to the gawking examination of topdwellers like us. One such tree fell over on the North Idaho College campus and completely demolished the car on which it landed, as if venting its fury and dismay in one final, ferocious roar before succumbing at last to its old foe, the wind. The men with saws came and removed the tree, but the car is still there. It’s quite flat. I like looking at it.
Have you noticed that there’s always one more Christmas gift to buy? I declared myself officially done with Christmas shopping weeks ago, but here I am again, picking up one more doohickey to go in the stockings, and one more thingamabob to give to a teacher, and one more gizmo to take to that holiday party gift exchange. I had plenty of money before the “one mores” kicked in, but now I’m broke. So if I haven’t given you anything yet, please accept my heartfelt seasonal salutations and my warmest regards, because that’s all you’re getting.
There is a bulletin board next to my desk, and it has become a constantly shifting collage of my life.
*a photo of Katie holding Caleb on the day we brought him home from the hospital (it has the Ugly Couch in it, but I even love that)
*a rubber chicken keychain (a token of Chick Trip 2005)
*a sketch and memory verse penned by Paul’s mom back when she was my age
*Katie’s first lost tooth (carefully preserved in a Mylar envelope, ready to be stuck on a scrapbook page)
*a calico elephant that Paul gave me when we were dating
*our ten year-old wedding invitation
*Katie’s drawing of me playing with her and Caleb at the park
*an engraving of Psalm 138:8 (“The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me; Your love, O Lord, endures forever.”)
As I was cleaning out Katie’s backpack yesterday, I found this story she wrote at school:
“Once there was a little boy and a little girl who baked a Gingerbread Lady. They placed her on a plate and she ran away.
She ran by a fence and saw a princess. She tried to eat the Gingerbread Lady. She ran away.
Next she saw a beagle. The beagle tried to eat the Gingerbread Lady. She ran away.
Then she saw a snake. The snake distracted the Gingerbread Lady and ate her.