the stories we write

At church this morning we talked with a friend of ours who just had emergency surgery where it was discovered she had two cancerous tumors. It had been a scary few weeks, a hard recovery but every time I have seen her or heard word of how she's doing she has had the most incredible outlook. Today she said, "there was so much God wanted to show me through all of this. I learned and grew and saw so much..."

She continued and told us lots more, and while she talked I was so struck by how she was choosing to retell her own story. She was completely sincere, completely hopeful and completely grateful as she talked about her scary month.

I love blogging for this very reason. Blogging is a very intentional way that I literally write my own story. And I'm so aware of it. Last week I could have written a end-of-the-week post and I could have written it ten different ways, all of them true. I hold so much power in my hands when I (literally) write my own story. We all hold this power.

So I could have written about how our barn has been one week delayed because the wrong length floor boards were ordered. And elaborated on any number of opinions surrounding that delay. Or I could have written about how because the wrong boards were delivered, the builder discovered they were not what we needed anyway, and that in reordering we saved thousands of dollars on different boards. I could have written about the mud pit that our barn is sitting in because of all the rain, or I could write about how incredible the grass seed in our field has taken... because of all the rain.

Do you see what I am saying? We each hold this pen in our hands. God has literally given us the ability to write our own stories, pick our themes, pick our mood, pick our response and reaction, choose our words, and as a result, literally choose our life.

I am naturally a positive person. And I've always been a storyteller so that even in awful circumstances I am already writing the comedy-version of this tale in my mind. I get that not everyone is like this. But today at church, hearing our friend tell of a really hard season with not a hint of victim-hood, I saw this truth clear as day. She possessed all the good fruits: hope, gratitude, joy and thankfulness, even in the midst of her storm. I thought to myself, 'no matter what, no matter what, I want to write my story like that.'

officially summertime

This week started out a bit dreary but Wednesday and Thursday were full on summer. And I realized that technically I can call the change of season whenever I want since we aren't on a school calendar yet. So as of Wednesday I decided it's summertime! That day we met with our ecfe friends for our first weekly park play date and I put sunblock on Elsie for the first time of many to come. Today I took the kids to Dairy Queen after we went to my midwife appointment for our first twist cones of the season. We spent most of the afternoon playing in the rock box and tonight we had dinner outside complete with sweet corn! (And it was good! From Aldi!)

Here's the other thing that really-truly felt like summer vacation: I devoured a book. My sister-in-law Sara recommended All the Light we Cannot See and I plowed through all 500-some pages like it was my job. Oh to be lost in a book! It is such a great feeling! And the second I finished that one, I picked up The Yearling, a book that has been on my shelf for a year or so. And now it is time.

Just a quick note on All the Light we Cannot See. I really liked it. And I will not give one single thing away here because I (fun fact) am one who does not like to read jacket covers or watch movie previews. I love to go into a story completely unaware of a single thing that is about to happen (if it has been recommended to me by a trusted source!). But before you pick this one up as a quick read, know that it is about WWII and it includes much of the horrors. But also know that the writer paints the story so vividly that 1) I had dreams about the book multiple nights and 2) I often tried to remember, "what was that great movie I just saw..." only to realize it was the book I was reading. The writing was that descriptive and the story was that captivating.

But even with that, it will be a while before I read a heavy-load-to-carry book. I needed something less intense, but just as good. Rory has been wanting me to read The Yearling and so that is my next read. Now don't you dare say one word about this book that will give a single thing away. Not a word! But do yourself a favor and go find a good book to kick off your summer. Is there anything better than reading outside in a camping chair? Add a lemonade ice-tea and you're living the dream.

backyard camping and princess camping

On Friday night Ivar and Rory decided to camp in our backyard. You might remember the last time we went backyard camping when Ivar was just one and I was very pregnant with Elsie. That is still one of my favorite family memories, especially when we brought Ivar into his crib around 10:30...

This time it was just the boys who stayed out to camp. I decided earlier in the day that anyone who was five months pregnant or two years old would stay for Smores and then go in the house for...Princess Camping! Elsie was most enthused. Princess Camping included reading her Sophia the First coloring book and going to bed. It was the best idea ever. Now I am all for camping, but when you are just footsteps from your own bed, pregnant or two years old, it just felt wise to let the boys have their own special time.

And it was special. I remember the very first time we saw this property with the realtor Rory said, "and that's where I'd put a family campsite." Friday night that dream came true and he was very, very pleased.

this week at the grovestead

It is sort of awful that on Monday I was crying about not being productive, because there certainly is enough happening around here. I'm not really doing the work, but I am keeping the ship running that allows for the stuff to get done.

Construction began this week on our barn. I'll just go right out and acknowledge that it's going to be big. First, because barns are big. And second, because you only build a barn every 150 years, and it felt wise to build it with 150 year of possibilities. Strangely, though, I think it is going to fit right in, and Rory and I could not be happier with the shape, the crew building it, and the progress being made.

Percy had four kittens! We knew this was coming when she got real fat about two weeks ago. :) We never had her fixed and were hoping for a litter. We're cat people at this house and so excited to get to hold them eventually (but not going to interrupt the mama-baby bonding happening these crucial first weeks...)

Rory planted the garden this week and re-seeded our field with pasture grass and regular grass (closer to the house). I asked for more lawn so we can play kick ball and t-ball, and he was happy to give it to me under the condition that I get to mow that section. :) Rory's goal is always to make less lawn to mow, not more!

He's been in full swing with a new round of honey bees. We purchased two nuks (workers and queen) for two of the hives and then our friend Adam gave us frames of worker bees, split from his healthy hives, enough for two more hives. Rory ordered two queen bees that came in the mail (!!!) and he has added them to the worker hives. He took pictures to explain all of this in detail and is working on a post at the grovestead. But I'm not sure I've ever seen my husband so busy in all our marriage, so I'll let you know when he posts next. :)

We're excited it's the weekend. I'm reading a page turner and am ready to rest for a few days. Happy Weekend! Have a great Memorial Day!

the sixteenth day

I didn't post this on Tuesday because I thought it was too pitiful. But I just reread it and it made me laugh. So here it is: Becca and her terrible-no-good-very-bad-Monday. 

Monday night at dinner Rory sat down and asked me very honestly, "Can you think of an equation that ranks the swath maps based on coverage area and hail size?" I looked back at him and said, "Just an hour ago I realized that today isn't actually Tuesday. It's Monday."

I think that little exchange perfectly sums up our life lately. Rory is running circles around me and is so productive and is accomplishing so much. He's overseeing this entire barn project (which is a big project...it's a big barn!) and is in his peak crazy-busy season for his weather software (storm season) often not coming to bed until after midnight when he finishes his work for the day. He has taken over the honey bee operation this spring, driving an hour to purchase two new hives and starting two other hives from the bees of a friend and mail ordering for two queens to add to the boxes. He literally picked up the queens at the post office this morning.  He has planted our garden, sprayed our apple trees, reseeded our field and never seems to stop.

It's so hard when my days would never be described as productive, and often little has been accomplished that could ever be measured. Monday I threw myself such a fine pity party. This one was a dandy. I was so sorry for myself. This pity party had a motherhood theme, the one where it feels like nothing ever gets done because everything is always undone the second it's done. Even yesterday I actually finished the laundry, every last sock folded and put away, only to have Elsie flood the bathroom (waterfall over the counter onto the floor below) so that I had to take all my newly folded towels, clean up the mess as fast as I could and then...put them in the washer to make another load of laundry. I could have cried.

I would say I can usually keep my perspective, head above water, remembering my bigger mission in this awesome and holy calling of motherhood.  I probably keep my perspective fifteen out of every sixteen days. But it's that sixteenth day that I just want to hire a maid, laundry service, chef and nanny and run for the hills. Or stop midday, give up and make chocolate chip cookies and get out a new book.

Anyway, Tuesday the sun was out and I woke up completely reset. I was excited because I was confident that it really was Tuesday that day and that I had a whole new day to try my Tuesday all over again. I took a long shower first thing, made myself some coffee and took care of some correspondence long overdue. I had a friend over during nap time. And mostly I just woke up with my right mind. I know all the right answers to this productivity dilemma: I am growing a baby in me, which is quite productive, I am raising kids, keeping a house, keeping a family fed and I know it all counts. I'm just saying that about every sixteen days I'm ready for a day off...