Easy? Like Sunday Morning?

We do not have easy Sunday Mornings. Part of our Sunday is the harrowing remembrance that we are all around and usually late. We took some time to smell the flowers in our front yard. My 3rd Sunflower is blooming and I couldn't help relating it to the 3rd daughter blooming in my house.


















Evvy's camp pics are a blast!

Last night we had a poetry demonstration in the living room.

We had a bunch of hep cats, or we imitated a bunch of hep cats. Elyse had a beautiful demonstration of antirhythmic poetry that was made popular in the 60's. We snapped and nodded, politely, when each poet took their place. We tried to chill our emotions when some, like Dad made us laugh our socks off. Out of cultural imitation we held our laughs and snapped instead of clapped. Everybody was hilarious, but Dad rocked the house with "Stranded!". We were so impressed that Ethan and Ezra could come up with a poem, in a moment. I loved Ezra's, of course, because his roses are red, had me as the loved one. He was adorable and Ethan looked like Mr. Magoo, because he has lost the glasses again. His funniness is difficult to snap for, so we did clap for him. I don't know who thought that up for us. It was just a spontaneous finish to a happy pizza dinner. Emily did a poem about a day in the life of the Wii. I hope we can do that again sometime.

Birthday House?

Here we are celebrating Ethan Weekend. Surprise that we are here 11 years after his interesting birth season. I was at the end of my emotions, I felt. I remember not being able to go into the tunnel. I made the police move the traffic because I was having a huge anxiety attack coming out of Manhattan one day about a week or two before Ethan's birth. I made Ben take me over the 59 St. Bridge and the Police officer kindly moved the cones and directed traffic to open up a way for me to get away from this huge anxiety attack. I am sorry officer, I just can't go through the tunnel. He said,okay. A week later I went back and forth to the hospital begging them to take this baby out of me. I cannot go another day. The doctor said, you should drink a little wine to calm down, Mrs. Walker. You are entirely too anxious about this. I was. He came in his own time. The birth was the very best part of the process. Halleluia, for the relief of pain.
Named after, Ethan the Ezrahite, Psalm 89, I will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever... We celebrated with all of the gumption of the Walker family fashion. Emily was the Mistress of Ceremonies and led us in a game of finish the lyrics to the song...(a game they made up) Enoch was the DJ for the game and chose appropriate songs for each age group. Ezra won singing all of the words to the Pokemon song. We laughed, we cried,...They are heap of hilarity, the lot of them. Ethan's best friend was the only invited guest. The rest of us were homegrown.

Two days to Ethan's 11th birthday

What a short time it seems since I wished him, here?


My quiver seemed more than full, with my 3 girls and one cherished son 12 years ago, when I looked at baby Ton,Ton and said "honey" isn't that the "most adorable" baby? 1 year later we were blessed with our own "most adorable" baby. He took me way past my comfort zone. My song for him is Meet Me Half Way, Across the Sky, by Kenny Loggins. God was so good to carry me through every single anxiety attack of his arrival and after. My life was blessed and Enoch's prayers were answered. I was no longer jealous of Shanda's tiny precious little one. It is a shame, isn't it, that our love's played off each-other. She wished her baby from our babies and we did the same. We all could have inhabited the whole earth, in the way that we didn't have any fear of the childbirth process(NOT).
Well, he is not a baby anymore. He is a faithful and precious young man and a great contributor into our family dynamic.
2 years ago, I started his blog, as he is the reason that I started to write fictionally. We started the blog 10 days to 9. Now he is a student of Narnia and a flagologist, if there is such a word. I am in awe of his determination and giftedness. He is comfortable being a relative outcast, in his class, with very thick glasses and very unusual idiosyncrasies.
Swift to reprove mother, when he hears a gossipping word come out of her mouth. and weeping at the thoughts of his own inconsistencies. I have seen him grow in character though not in style. He is also the child who can't see enough to know that he has put on spotted clothes. His eyesight is very poor, but his insight is very keen.
We are about to celebrate his coming to us. Grandpa Bob was 1919, Dad was 1939, Ben is 1959, Ton is 1979 and Ethy is 1999, what a great coincidence?:)
Happy Birthday Ethy!

Happy 51st Birthday

Honoring Father is always a lesson for me. There are so many deepseeded Walker traditions that I am blessed to be learning from my fullbreds. This birthday there were delicately decorations around and about. Each balloon was carefully handscripted, by our homegrown artistic crew. I cannot catch the beauty of the designs that were set on each perfectly drawn candy and the beautiful fatlady on the microphone with an orchestra behind her. Its not over till, well you know. We limboed the night away and enjoyed the beauty of love in the homegrown way. They each had something to say and they elected Enoch to present their father's birthday video. A speech? from Enoch? He did it.

I am so glad to have participated.
Silver stars were hung from the ceiling. Silver streamers decked the halls and we danced the night away. Family is the best love garden there is.

What a great party we had to celebrate!

A Short visit from my sister. Jackie and Chin came to visit us.

Her precious grandbabies greeted me. There they were, looking just like we did 45 years ago, and how her girls looked 20 something years ago and here we are; the age of our grandmas.
Those girls are adorable and I was very happy to meet them, for the very first time. It is beautiful to love a sister and feel these pangs of missing when they drive away. I miss her already.
With the morning dew and the rising of the sun, they drove away.
My sister, Jackie, Chin, her husband, Mrs. Richards, her daughter, Medinah, Jabryl and Kamal, Alanna and Nyra (the grandaughters). It was wonderful to see them and the impression of the kisses and hugs are still fresh upon us and the aching of loss. Family reunions are delightful.