The ladies have returned!

They came back. I do think that my heart was in my mouth as my adventurers traveled. They said the water was sooooo clear. It was so beautiful. We had such a good time! I have spent an evening trying to get some of the stories about the adventures of a week in the bahamas from my dear daughters. Elyse's boss was so generous and invited them to come along on a once in a lifetime adventure to the "islands". They went and came back and dozens and dozens of photos of them enjoying and seeing sights and hearing sounds of the Bahamas. They are travellers. I love hearing and hearing of the delights of the ship and the people and the foods. Their faces and expressions are even better than the stories that they shared. As they say, "how are you gonna keep them down on the farm, after they have seen Paris?".

Such a hullaballoo about such a little snow.

Last week we had a snow day on Friday. There was no way that we would have that happen again. The weatherman said we would have, at least an early dismissal, probably 1 pm on Friday was the forecast. I didn't believe it until I saw the little calf running down the pasture to tell Mr. Horse that the snow was coming. I had to giggle at the speed this round little fellow got to and the horse was not even impressed in the least. I longed to jump out of the car and listen to the little calf's weather report, but there was no time. When we got home, the call came and the children were delightedly coming home earlier than even 1 pm. It was 9am. Sleet was coming down and the ground gets so slippery down here, it really is dangerous. Submission to the precipitation is a distinctly Charlottean concept. When it snows, stay home, play with your children, make hot chocolate and memories.

My baby boy came home on the bus, but the teenagers were stranded, somehow. There was a bus accident on the way to get them. One street in and out and we were sitting there behind a line of cars until we decided to go the other way. I love the combination of farmland and communities that we have access to view between home and the schools. As I bake my biscuits I am remembering my mother-in-law and her words on how to make them. What is "clabba-milk" I asked, ignorantly. Now I know and the smell of the biscuits and hot chocolate remind me that only one of my children met their grandma on their dad's side. I reminisce about her care and love for us and the culture shock that I had in trying to get to know her. My biscuits never are soft enough to plant my fingerprints in, like hers were. No matter how hard I try to imitate her care and carefulness, my children never seem satiated by anything edible. Children are always hungry. She must've prayed that their tummies would be filled, while she was baking them. Who could've known that those days would fly by and that we couldn't remember so clearly all that she said or keep any of the days in our pockets. Who knew that we would be the older people trying to pass on the traditions to the next generation, like fingerprints on the biscuits.

As my dear friends, the sparrows come by to pickup the handful of seeds that I threw to them this morning; I am recalling the massage of the turkey that I was privileged to participate in with Grandma Rosalie. I talk about it to them, but their eyes glaze over that I could have been in awe of a woman who had power in her hands to bless and rear so many strong and powerful people. The look on her face when she enjoyed something was impressive on my minds eye this morning. I tried to help my children imagine the ignorance of their mother, next to this woman who towered above me in knowledge of children and tastebuds. What is a crawfish?, Grandmother. What is a Cric? More questions than I ever asked in my life, were in my mouth with her. I felt so stupid around her. She knew everything that had become important to me.

One of the first impossible dreams I had was having a baby brother, I got 2.

I remember mommy's belly as big as a bowling ball and we were begging Grandma Ruth for baby Michael to come home with us. Grandma, wouldn't give him to us. We knew that we couldn't have boys and the odds were that the baby in mommy's tummy would be a girl. It wasn't though. I remember the stinging tears in my eyes when I kissed baby Mikee on his bald head and let him go to the "foster monster" as we thought it to be. God blessed and baby Tony and Abdul came after that and comforted our fretting hearts. God took care of baby Mike and of us and our wishes also as He always does. I am grateful to have loved those boys and enjoyed them to tears.

This was the first day we brought baby Abby to the park. Grandma took a while to find the flash for her camera. I followed her around the house looking for it. Mommy had her hands on Abdul all of the time, until she traded him for a racquet at the park. We stood in front of Grandma's beautiful and stinging roses in the backyard. It was a beautiful day to announce to the world that we had an answered prayer, 2 boys had come to live with us. We kissed them raw!

Here we are a few years after that first visit to the park. Abby had grown quite a bit. They said that he was ashy because of his late birth, but I think it was because we kissed him too much. We miss him something aweful.

Today is the inauguration and I am delighted and concerned at the same time.

If I Can Dream

God bless America, with a good Black President, with hope to grow in right and goodness, with fruition of more of the lifelong prayers of the godly people who have sought seemingly impossible dreams. It was impossible and we have grown to see it become possible and then probable and now true. It is a like a dream. God bless America and make it true that we are undoing the seeds of hatred and violence that we have sown into the world in which we live. I think of Mu today, I heard from Uncle Charles that she didn't attend the wedding of him and Aunt Jackie for the grief of lamenting the loss of Uncle Sonny. Isn't that always the way for the bereaved mother? She cannot see the joy of the day for the living, in the midst of the grief for the loss that she is feeling. My heart is in bed today with the joy of the second term of my highest hope of my earliest of life. The remembrance of Martin Luther King and the hope that he ignited in our infant hearts. Where is the content of our character? Where is the allegiance of character that was also stoked at that flame? Not just a Black President is Barack Obama, he is a very educated man. Not just an educated man, a good orator, a strong leader, a handsome representative, a model family member. I am grateful for these things, but some of the biblical expectations of moral character are allied to his beauty and this keeps me in my pajamas, like Mu today. He, like uncle Charles is marrying a beautiful dream and I can't be there, because my "sonny" {so to speak}is not in my arms. I hope you can understand this diverse thought. God bless America and grow us to be more than a beautiful dream. Righteousness exalteth a nation.

Today, Ethan found out he's about an inch taller than Elyse.

What a notable development for a 13 year old. The little fellow that was my tennis buddy for years, now is content to play ballboy and let everybody else take up a racquet. I hate to say it, but I think you have to wait into your late thirties or forties to have a really pleasant child, LOL. I have to beg to get a new can of tennis balls, usually. But, my special 9 year old volunteered to spring for the can, when I said that the smell of tennis balls is like champaign for me. What a little playboy! They both are the delight of my elderly parenting attempt. The other ones are okay:) I mean, I love them all, but it is so great to watch my little "Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn" carve out their existences in this cold cruel world and try to love them as much as I can. I went to lunch with Ezra, last week and Ethan is getting ready for midterms{not his best subject}. The ladies are away for a while and the highschoolers have eachother. I am occupied with the antics of these two little fellows who are a comedy reality show, all by themselves.

A Saturday borrowed from Springtime!

The weather accomodated our endeavor to exercise and we spent a few hours on the courts. The family the prays and plays together, stays together...We enjoyed the entertainment of the family fun on the courts. Everybody holds their own now and we have rallies and get a bit sweaty and then, we go home. The joy of January in NC...

Thousands of Geese are adorning our southern skyline.

We must have a goose highway, because it looks like an endless line of geese. They are headed south and they are so high in the sky that I can't see them without my glasses. They are in focus, when I put my glasses on and there is a beauty of the silver linings on their wings as they fly in formation, down south to avoid the bitter cold that is coming. It is only 29 degrees, which is frigid for us and it is going up to the fifties. It is a comfortable place for people, but the geese, obviously have their sights on a warmer climate, probably Florida, by lunchtime. When we first came down here those were the interests of my young fellows, but now, at 9 and thirteen, they pooh-pooh, their mother's bird stories. The cows are just scenery to these two "Tom and Huck" characters in my life. I missed alot of their time, when I was working full time and now, I am picking up the pieces and trying to teach them the basic skills, getting out of the house with their clothes on and in tact, somewhat. Homework is always a missing element. What didn't I sign or see? What report card? They are a delightful pair and keep me on my toes, for sure. I can't grab one of the tails of the geese and be in Florida for lunch, but the two of them keep me excited about what is coming up next. ;)

Twobiggies!

When I was younger, so much younger than today...

HELP!

I am so very jealous of Ju and Mom monopolizing the maternal/child bond and all of the snow, I thought that I would write about who came first, the chicken or the egg? LOL When I was younger, so much younger than today...wait a minute that is the Beatles. Well, that seems as good a place to start as any. I heard that song and thought about my independent little face in that picture and I started laughing out loud. I really, never did need anybody's help, did I? Two big trees covered with snow? Not really, but the cantankerous little rascal in that picture used to slide down the bricks in the front of the house, with Jackie in the stroller and wish that we could pick her up and toss her back and forth to eachother. We could do it? We were grown already? Weren't we? I guess that's why my parents kept going to the stork's house every year to find the perfect child? Well I hope you remember those grown little ladies in the picture and laugh with me and the Beatles.

Wishing I was in Times Square Church on New Years Eve, {After my 700th post, Here we are in 2013}

And I heard the man clothed in linen, which was upon the waters of the river, when he held up his right hand and his left hand unto heaven, and sware by him that liveth for ever that it shall be for a time, times, and an half; and when he shall have accomplished to scatter the power of the holy people, all these things shall be finished. Daniel 12:7

Massive mob-scene is usual in Times Square on New Years Eve. I would never, in my worst night-mare, want to be there in that mob. I hate those kinds of crowds. I usually have serious anxiety, because of having been taught how "hoodlum" case out places like that. New York's carefulness training is something that follows you, even to a relatively safe environment, like North Carolina. New York is safer than it used to be, I hear. I miss the accent. I miss the serious concern about everything. Thank God for the memory of David Wilkerson, establishing a light house there. Thank God for the postings of Times Square Church, which I believe is the {or one of the] Spiritual "balls" marking time in the spiritual realm. They seem to really be doing battle for Christ on the frontlines of the battlefield.