Red Balloon, White Rose

There are plenty of covers, but I still shiver a bit as I lie in bed. The thermostat has been set at 62º for days now, and those six degrees definitely makes a noticeable difference. Maybe I'll have to bring a few more blankets down and pile them on the hide-a-bed. I finally put a nail in the living room wall above the computer, and now my Big Dead Jesus (a.k.a. the large crucifix that creeps her out) hangs prominently in my line of sight. It is comforting, I guess. This living room is starting to feel like home.

Above me a red balloon rests against the ceiling, as it has for nine days now. Eleven days ago the Boy and I went to the florist to get a single white rose, as requested. They offered him a balloon, and so home we came with it. Of course it immediately caused trouble with a little brother who wanted it but couldn't have it, so it quickly ended up locked in a closet, pleasing no one. The Boy wanted to pack it, but I convinced him that was impractical.

As I wandered through the vacated home last Saturday, I saw it and brought it down to be part of my growing nest in the living room. It has lasted remarkably well, far exceeding any expectations I had. It is a bit reduced the last couple of days, but still looks taut and strong. The rose, too, still blooms, standing in the French press carafe on the kitchen counter, the closest thing to a vase that we brought with us. I wonder how long it will last before it droops and wilts. Maybe long enough.

Lonely snow

First snow in Ottawa today. Not much, just a coating on cars and roofs, mostly, but it stayed cold enough that even at evening rush hour I could still see cars with ice and snow sliding off their roofs and trunks.

And though the purple sled sits ready in the garage, there is no little boy to ask eagerly about its employment. There is no little voice full of excitement at the window, no one shouting "Look, Daddy, snow!" over and over again, while I nod and say "Yes, that's right; it snowed." Instead, I am alone in a silent house, silent save for whatever noise I choose to make or what tunes I elect to crank up. Everyone else is gone. And they are not coming back.

It is hard to fathom the immensity of this development. Watching them walk through the gate at the airport was devastating, even though I knew it was the only right choice for us to make. Now they are all safe, with family, being cared for and loved, far from this land that, through no real malice, proved so inhospitable to out fragile little family.

I am gradually becoming studious again, pushing the pain and terror to the background, trusting in the wisdom of others. I am determined to finish what I have started, if at all possible. Even though everything has changed suddenly, one thing is unaltered: all our plans and dreams of the future are predicated on my completion of this course of studies. I don't intend to plunge blindly ahead, but if at all possible, then I needs must continue somehow through these next three years in order to make possible the better life that we have imagined together for our young family.

But only time will tell.

Need some veggies, boy?

Primus is not known for his love of vegetable bites. Or really any bites; it is a constant struggle to get him to slow down enough to take any nourishment at all, and his physique shows it.

But tonight he evidently had some biological needs that he took heed of. While I was prepping supper he ate two collard leaves, stalks and all, and after I had rolled the leaves and cut them into strips he ate two of the resultant densely-packed wheels of green leafiness. Later, when we had steamed the rest to our liking, he dug into a plateful before asking, "Can I please have some V-8?"

Yes, yes you can.

A whole new everything

Greetings from Sunny Ottawa!

As I dragged my little family away from everyone and everything we know and love, one of the things I was most sure of was that we would need to blog about it a LOT, both for the folks back home (and scattered far and wide) who will be missing us, and also for ourselves. So far, pretty much nothing has gone as expected, and it has been a pretty bleak time for us. Blogging has taken a back seat to survival.

But I need to start sometime. Every day lately there have been multiple little events that have made me say to myself, "Ah, I need to blog about that." And I never have. But tonight, time, energy (barely), and inclination have finally converged, and I am just going to say stuff until I run out of steam. Which will be soon. But hopefully this will be the pebble that starts the metaphors mixing, and I can find time and energy to pour forth the kind of pithy little updates I have been longing to post (and pictures, too!). I may even get around to whipping up some back-dated entries for the overwhelming early days of our family odyssey, so scroll down to check for those, too, at some point soon(ish).

And good night. More real news real soon. Maybe even a proper explanation of what we are doing here...

Tenting Again

Ah, camping! It has been so great to get back out in the wonderful state parks this spring, reminding us how very long it has been since we tramped about in the woods with our growing little family. Last week we spent a glorious few days down at one of my favorite places in Minnesota: Beaver Creek Valley State Park, just outside Caledonia, MN. My parents rented the small cabin available there, and we joined them there for a couple days of long walks and restful nights. And then this week I took a Wednesday off and we headed down to New Ulm and Flandreau State Park. We pulled in a little before 9:30pm, located a pleasing site in the rustic campground, and set the tent up with the aid of the car headlights. We were, it turned out, the only campers in the entire park that night, and it was beautiful.

We had a leisurely morning before I spiffed up into my best suit for an interview with the bishop (about which more to come, I promise), then later we spent the afternoon exploring historic New Ulm, having lunch at the Kaiserhof, taking in the Herman monument and the Glockenspiel show, and generally having a wonderful day out. We decided to stay a second night, so after a windy night's sleep I popped up at 4.45am, bundled the sleepy boys into their car seats, broke down camp like a madman, and zipped back up to the Cities, just making it to work on time. A grand outing, all around.

It is tough to do any hardcore birding with little ones, but I found real joy in being able to spot and point out various birds to wife and son as we went about our camping activities. I can officially report the following list, just to show that we had our eyes open:

• Red-headed Woodpecker (my first in several years)
• American Goldfinch
• Eastern Bluebird
• Least Flycatcher (by ear only)
• Cardinal
• American Robin
• Chipping Sparrow
• Yellowthroat
• Hermit Thrush
• Wild Turkey
• Ring-Necked Pheasant
• American Crow (this is turning into a rather patriotic bird list)
• Northern Flicker
• Blue Jay
• Canada Goose

We also found a baby Painted Turtle crushed and dead on the gravel road to the camp ground. His little shell was about the size of a fifty-cent piece (remember those?) and we carried him back to our campsite, where four-year-old Primus studied him intently for many hours.

Toilet Wisdom

"The blood and juice in my body work SOOOOO hard to build my poop, and to bring my food to my blood and to my poop."

Yes, I guess that is pretty much how it works, Primus. But I am also reasonably sure that the phrase "build my poop" has not previously been found in recorded English. You are a linguistic gold-mine.

No Fooling

Well, well, well.

It is a new year here in the Pond. Three months later than is traditional perhaps, but spring is a fitting season of renewal, I would say, so what better time to burst forth into fine green form than today?

We are all still kicking. The adjustment to two boys has proven multivalent and never-ending. Just imagining ourselves keeping up with them and their rapid development has been more than sufficient to keep us away from the keyboard and silent in the blogosphere.

But here we are again, and I hope not merely for the novelty of it. Connecting with the world outside our tiny thrumming circle of family life is a big deal for us, and while human contact and time out in God's green earth is a higher priority, we want to send our words out to all of you near and far who care to know what goes on in the life of this little quartet.

So just a tease, perhaps, but hopefully not. There is so much to tell, I really want to keep telling it...