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Inspired by
Katie, I made vanilla pudding popsicles last night and they turned out just right. Delicious
and nourishing. Henry slept in until almost
10:00 and was immediately invited over to play. He got dressed with a little help, searched in vain for his magic wand, and ran (tank top, flip flops and winter coat to protect from rain) out the door with no breakfast. I walked some pops over and felt good about it, like I wasn't
just dropping a sugar bomb on the boys.
Mondays are generally peaceful, restful days here. I am thankful for that. Not so restful for Joel, as he is having an exceptionally busy week, but I hope the lack of hurry Henry and I are experiencing is also helpful to Joel.
Tomorrow we travel to the
cabin site to do some varnishing of windows. It will be a busy day, but the joy of this place being finished someday soon is great. As I write, I'm helping Joel by previewing some old home movies for quality. They were copied to video and now, by Joel, copied onto DVD for one of our customers. It is quite intriguing to see the 1950s vacation destinations and so forth: a dancing monkey wearing a girl's dress, a series of quiet home scenes, farm life, Sunday-best dress against a backdrop of grain auger, tractor, garden beds.
I'm struck by the ironies of blogging. I write--for myself, people I know, people I am learning to know through blogging--about life as it is now. And so much of what I desire is similar to what used to be: families spending time together, simple enjoyment of floor play, gardening, restful vacations. (Scratch the dancing monkeys; I imagine they're better off in their native environment or in a zoo haven if their habitat has been destroyed). I do not seek to ignore
what is happening in the world now, but to claim the goodness that is here while I live and pray in the world that is.