Traditions

When Josh and I got married, we inherited certain family traditions from one another, and the most lasting among them involve food. He has raved about the Copes green beans and Beck pie, and I have craved his mom's chicken and noodles and his grampa's beans since our first respective bites. The food has become more than a way to satiate our hunger--it is a way to reach back into our childhoods and share our pieces of ourselves that might otherwise remain hidden. Josh can feel the suffocating humidity of a late summer evening spent bent over the green bean plants in my Gramma's garden, and he can taste the velvety, watery crunch of a fresh bean; I can see the pinto beans bubble and spit in the oil in his grandfather's sunny kitchen, and I can taste the warm, earthy goodness of beans cooked in the same dish beans have been cooked in for years and years and years.

One of the beautiful things about this food is the not just the connection of ourselves to one another but to our families as well. Josh has, as close as I can tell, perfected his grampa's beans. I am learning my Gramma Beck's pie (even if I cannot bring myself to use her crust recipe because it makes me fear for my salvation...). And I have found an intense desire to learn some recipes that are important to him, too. I can do a pretty good chile con carne, for example. But some recipes allude me; I think, like the pie crust, I am terrified of messing them up. They are so much more than recipes. They are people and tradition and love. And yet...they are my siren's song.

Enter the Enchilada.

His Gramma Lupe's recipe. His mother's tradition.

Twice Rita has allowed me to shadow her in the kitchen, to watch her nimble, skilled fingers create a Mexican masterpiece from the simplest, most unassuming ingredients. This time, I took pictures and, much to Rita's chagrin, videos. I'm going to learn this recipe. I'm going to make enchiladas. My kitchen will one day hold the taste of Lupe's kitchen, and of Rita's kitchen. Their tradition is going to become my tradition.

And one day, they'll look as good as this:

The secret ingredient

From there to here: Picture Post

The time between my previous two posts stretched a lifetime....Here's a quick recap of my pregnancy. (By far, the best part is the fussing little person lying on my living room floor right now, trying to roll):

1st glimpse of our little blueberry. EDD 10/31/09

6 week belly

15 weeks...my first Mother's Day

18 weeks

19 weeks....we finally got to see our baby again: a little girl we decided to name Elaina Marie

21.5 weeks

25 weeks. I finally looked undeniably pregnant!

28 weeks

35 weeks....I could no longer see my feet

36 weeks, enjoying the Spoon River Drive at Bernadotte

At my last sonogram (37 weeks). We found out our little girl was healthy and strong...and breech. Much to my disappointment, talk of a c-section ensued.

One of my failed attempts to get Elaina to turn

At the hospital, October 29, 2009, getting ready for surgery. Little did I know, I was actually in labor. Had a c-section not already been scheduled, we might have been at the hospital anyway!

Waiting for surgery to begin

8:19 a.m.: Elaina is here!!!

We say hello....

Our new family

Elaina Laughs

A New Blessing

I have made my official announcement to family, to friends, and, as of last Thursday, to co-workers, so now I make it here: We're having a baby! :) I am 17wks 2 days along, and our little one is due to join the family on October 31st (no comments about a little monster!). Here is the first picture we have, taken at 6wks 3 days:

Actually, this is the only picture we have so far. We won't get to see our little one again for four weeks or more, and I can't wait.

To answer some commonly answered questions:
1) No, we don't know what we're having.
2) No, right now we leaning towards not finding out. I have been given copious advice on why this is the wrong decision (how will you buy for the baby? won't it be easier to become more attached if you know? what ever will people buying for showers buy? how can you possibly wait until October?), and my response to all of it is that no matter what this little one is, we love it, and we are thrilled to have him or her join the family. I think that's more important than a nursery color scheme, personally.
3) Yes, we're pretty sure it's only one. We've only heard one heartbeat (twice! Once at 156 bpm, once at 146), and during the first ultrasound, we only saw one flutter. It sure was a beautiful sight, though.
4) Yes, we have some names picked out, but for the most part we're keeping them to ourselves. But to be clear, we have two for a girl and two for a boy, so we're covered either way.

In the last week or so, I've felt the little one move more--more than a flutter, anyway. It's such an odd feeling, and each time Josh comes and puts his hand on my belly, hoping to feel something. It hasn't happened yet, but I think it will in the next few weeks. Feeling the baby move has made this seem more real than it had--since I've gotten over the morning (re: all day) sickness, and since my abdomen isn't expanding at an alarming rate (yet, though it's starting to become more noticeable), the only reminder we've had was the thump-thump-thump-thump on the fetal dopplar at my last appointment. But there is still something in there, and it's alive, and it's part of me and it's part of Josh, and it is wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.

The last few days I have just been struck by what a blessing this baby is, and I think I'm beginning to fall more and more in love with this new life. There are moments when it still seems so surreal--yesterday we went to look for cribs, and I couldn't hardly believe in a short amount of time we'll be using it. We have such an incredible opportunity to love. I get to love this life and nourish it these next few months and help it grow, and then I get to love it for the rest of its life. I get to see my husband love it, to put his hands on my belly and talk to it, to watch his eyes sparkle as he talks about helping it grow. I get to see my husband in this child, and now I find such joy in thinking of the parts of Josh he or she may have. I get to love this baby in my family, to love my parents as grandparents, my brother and sister as an uncle and aunt. I get to teach this little one about Jesus. I'm just so thankful.

For the sake of historical preservation...

It seems almost cliche to comment on today's weather, but for the sake of historical accuracy, please allow me to make the following remark: today was stinking cold. When I woke up a little before 6:00, the windchill in Peoria was -28. The actual temperature was a balmy -17. I think the high was somewhere in the neighborhood of -8. I like winter--fleece jammy pants, hot tea, snow (snow that, unlike in Rockford, actually melts here once in a while), memories of when Josh and I first met. But this, this goes beyond winter. This is painful, tear-inducing, booger-freezing cold. This is just ridiculous.

Can I get sunshine with a side of beach, please?

Pictures of Blessings

Beautiful winter days

Mom and Daddy

Mario & Rita

My family

My smiling, wonderful nephew

Gramma & Grampa Beck

Gramma Copes

Winston (my first true love)

Chappu (aka "the baby")

And, of course, my wonderful husband

Happy New Year!

Welcome, 2009!

I love the new year. It's always full of such hope, such anticipation. On January 1st, the year can always be "the year everything changes." 2005 was that year for me. That's the year I met Josh, on a cold January evening in Dr. Giles African-American lit class. I suppose, though, that "the year everything changes" is every year. In 2006, Josh and I were married. That certainly changed everything! And Mom had her aneurysm, and lived. In 2007, I finished grad school, Josh and I survived our second flood, we got Chappu, and we had good jobs. In 2008, we rang in the new year asleep after driving through a blizzard to make it back to Rockford, the trip taking five hours instead of the usual three. We planned a trip to Hawaii that fell through, we tried to move and couldn't, until we finally gave up and things fell into place, we went on vacation to Nashville, I moved in with Rita and Mario and started my new job, and a few weeks later, Josh came, too. Jeremy got married in August. Grampa Beck got sick in October. Lupe got sick at the beginning of December. It was a busy, terrifying, adventerous, wonderful year.

And I am excited to see what this year will hold. This January 1, I have a less clear picture of the next 365 days. Last January 1, I knew Josh and I would be trying to move closer to home, that we'd even maybe try to buy a home, that we'd go on vacation somewhere. We are here now, and we have jobs. I can only wonder at what I'll think of 2009 when it comes to a close. But I anticipate, and I hope, and I remember what Jeff Crosno once said: "I do not know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future."

Right now, though, I am just thankful for the time we've had off this holiday season. It has been absolutely fantastic. We've slept in nearly every morning, I've had a chance to watch the Today Show and the judge shows in the afternoon, Josh has been able to try out his (several) new video games, we've been able to visit his Gramma several times, and we haven't thought a whole lot about job security or the bad economy. We've just been thankful for the time we've had with our families, and with each other. And we still have three whole days to enjoy. Yay!

A Fantastic Day

Today, dear readers (if I indeed have readers other than myself), has been a fantastic day.

Today I slept in and woke up in my husband's arms, surrounded by our cats. Our usual wake time is before 6:00, so we have been taking advantage of our break by sleeping in. Every morning has felt like a Saturday. It is glorious.

Today, I finally got my hair cut. It has been a long time coming, and had recently driven me to the point of distraction, so I told the stylist to do as she pleased, so long as it was darker and shorter than when I arrived. She did, and I am very pleased with the results. It is a shade or two darker than my natural color and has caramel highlights, and it is now above my shoulders. I feel much more like an adult and less than a scraggly teenager now, so it was well worth the time and money.

Today I met with my first college roommate, Amber, and had coffee and got to hold her new baby girl. We haven't seen each other in a number of years, but through the miracle that is Facebook we were able to reconnect. And I had such a lovely time. Much like when we were in college, we just have an understanding, or much common ground, a common experience and perspective. So many times she would say something and I was like, hello, feel the same way. I wish she didn't live so far away, but I am hopeful we'll do much better at keeping in touch than we have in the past. Perhaps it will give Josh & I an excuse to roadtrip :)

Today I came home from my coffee catching up and made sausage and wild rice chowder, which was delicious, and then watched Kung Fu Panda with my husband, which we saw earlier this summer. It was as funny as I remembered, an enjoyable way to pass the evening. I am currently watching Josh try out one of his new games, and I can't think of a better way to end my perfectly wonderful day.

Christmas Vacation

Back from Christmas. Will attempt to post some pictures later. Was a wondeful time, and, thankfully, Lupe made it through. She is still with us, though only God knows for how much longer--every day is an unexpected blessing. A couple of days ago she recognized Josh and called him mijo, which she hasn't done in quite some time. It really touched him--he said as a child he didn't think of Spanish as Spanish, but as his grandmother's language. Here's hoping today is a comfortable day for her, and that she knows she is surrounded by love.

Josh and I have the week off of work. Because we are not Company employees, we don't get paid for the full week, but I really don't care. I am just enjoying the time. Josh is going to hang out with one of his old buddies later this week, and I am hopefully going to get together with my first college roommate tomorrow or Wednesday, whom I haven't seen in several years (thank you, Facebook!). And I may get together with a high school friend this weekend as well. Beyond that, the goal is simple relaxation. I have a stack of old People magazines to get through, plus a new Repairman Jack novel. I have a new KitchenAid mixer to try out (thanks, honey!!!!) and some cleaning to get caught up on. I want to get my hair cut, and I'm thinking about getting it colored (perhaps darker this time). We have Mario's birthday to celebrate on Wednesday, and we're ringing in the new year with Rotel, lil' smokies, and some sparkling cider we got for Christmas.

And then we get to begin a new year. I always find that to be an exciting and apprehensive time, just because it is so uncertain and so full of hope. 2008 has been a good year, though not without its struggles (moving, jobs, family illness, etc). But I am thankful for it. Josh and I got to go on our first vacation since our honeymoon this summer, and we were able to move this summer. We have new jobs--I love mine, and he's advancing in his. We are near family and got to enjoy birthday parties, job celebrations, Bernadotte, Rachel's safe arrival home from Kenya, Jeremy's wedding, and a thousand other things. I don't know what 2009 will hold, but I'm excite for it.

And now...off to find some lunch!

The Long Goodbye

I haven't written in awhile. I guess when you spend all day in front of a computer, the last thing you want to do is sit there again. Today, however, I'm in a bit more of a comfortable position, so here I am.

We've had a long week. Josh's Gramma Lupe has been in the hospital since Monday, and today she is going home, to hospice, to her family, to the quiet yellow house she has called home for over 50 years. She is not going to get well; while the end has been a long time in coming, its beginning has finally begun.

And it is hard. It is hard to see the sadness in everyone's eyes when they gather around her bedside. It is hard to hear them remember stories, to laugh a laugh that is joy mixed with hurt and anticipation. It is hard to hear her voice, to try to make a memory of its sound and its roll and its mix of Spanish and English. It is hard to see the helpless look on my husband's face, and it is hard to hear his mother lean over and tell stories to Lupe, trying to offer her comfort. It is hard to watch my father-in-law, a proud, quiet man, kiss his mother's cheek and step back with red eyes. It is hard to watch his grandfather reach for Lupe's hand and to hear him say, "You'll go home with me, Lupe. We'll go home," knowing that going home means precious few moments together. It is hard, because there are no right words, no ways to comfort, and only being there with nothing else to offer seems so inadequate in the face of such love and such pain.

I don't know how to be there, I don't know what to do, and I don't know what to say. But I will be there, no matter what.

Happy Thoughts

Good happenings in the lives of the Serranos:

We got to meet Rachel's "African parents," Chris and Irene, a few weeks ago. It was a great experience--so clear how much they love her. Perhaps I will be a bit less apprehensive when she goes back next summer. Maybe. And to add to it, we drove with Jeremy and Rylan, which meant I got to spend the drive in the backseat with a very entertaining year and a half old. :)

Rachel came to visit last weekend. We took her to Tanner's and had caramel apples for lunch. And she took me shopping and convinced me to buy jeans because, for once, they were the right length. When she left, Josh and I went miniature golfing. Two things to note there: First, I got a hole in one, which I don't think I've ever done before (okay, it's mini-golf, but it was an accomplishment to me!). Second, I beat Josh. I don't think that's ever happened. I was quite pleased :)

We think we've found a church to settle at, at least for now. I am very hopeful we'll have many opportunities to get involved, and in the meantime, we have very good sermons to look forward to each week.

Yesterday was Josh's birthday, and I think it was a success. We had pepper steak for supper, and afterwards, we went to the music store so I could buy him his gift, a new classical guitar. (Chappu broke the other one.) I think he's quite happy with it, as he played it for an hour or so once we got home.

This weekend we're going to the Spoon River Drive. I can't wait to go to Bernadotte, find some good crafty things, eat bad-for-me-food, and spend time with my family. It's going to be a great time.

That's all for now...

Broken Heart

We must move from asking God to take care of the things that are breaking our hearts, to praying about the things that are breaking His heart. ~Margaret Gibb

Today at work I realized I was having one of "those" days--while outwardly I was my normal, happy-go-lucky self, inwardly my heart was hurting. A lot is going on in the lives of people I love. A woman from my parents' church--one of the most boisterous, outgoing people I have ever met, whose laugh fills up rooms and who has been filling in since my pastor retired--was just diagnosed with ovarian cancer and is having surgery tomorrow. In preparation for her surgery, the doctors did x-rays and found a spot on her liver. Josh's grandmother is slowly fading away; she has been fighting Parkinson's for so long, and I think she is just getting tired. We used to be lucky, it seemed, to visit her on good days, but good days are now few and far between, if at all. My uncle is having a hard time finding good work. He worked so hard to put himself through school and can't see the good it did, and he is so discouraged. And another loved one is going through a trial I can't begin to imagine, dealing with the circumstances of a past decision. It's clear that sometimes, no matter how sorry you are, you can't go back and fix things, and it hurts, too.

Usually on days like today I stop and count my blessings. I think that's a good thing to do, really, to stop and think upon all we have to be thankful for: health, love, good jobs, a home, quiet fall evenings, access to healthcare, so on and so forth, and to thank God for His graciousness, which I don't think we come close to understanding. It helps to put things in perspective, to have a way to look up when you're feeling down.

But today I decided I needed to feel down. I needed to feel my heart breaking, because I knew the pain in my heart was pain God was feeling, too. I know sickness was not His plan any more than broken hearts, for whatever reason, were. But humanity broke His heart, and we continue to break it every day, even as our own hearts are broken. And maybe, somehow, by feeling this pain, I will get a glimpse into God's glory, even glory in sadness, because He has glory there. And maybe by allowing myself to feel this sadness, I will know a tiny, tiny piece of the sadness of God, and revel in His love for us, and it will move me to pray for those things that break His heart even more than my own.

Feelin' hot, hot, hot....

(Cheesy title, I know. Deal with it.)

Well, it's hot, but considering the summer we've had, I won't complain. Yesterday was worse, and tomorrow is supposed to be markedly better. So no whining from me...for now :)

Had a lovely, wonderful, relaxing, busy Labor Day weekend. As tradition requires, we went home to Colchester. Saturday we spent much of the day at Argyle, casually walking through the enormous flea market, getting a few odds and ends, and then, of course, enjoying the ribeye from the Cattlemen's Association, a cold lemon shakeup, and that miracle of the pioneer, kettle corn. (Mom says we don't come home to visit on Labor Day weekend, we come home to eat. While it isn't true, sometimes you'd think it by the way we talk!) Saturday evening we had a cookout--Gramma and Grampa Beck came, as did Aunt Naomi and Gramma Copes. I had a fantastic time. Lots of time to catch up, lots of good things to eat--Gramma Copes and I shared a birthday cake (the first time that has happened--it was early for her and late for me) and later we had s'mores. On Sunday, we went to the community church service and then to the parade in the afternoon.

Jeremy, Nikki, and Rylan came--it was nice to see them, as this was the first time we'd all been together since their wedding. And I have to say, being an aunt is a pretty cool thing, especially to a boy as sweet as Rylan is. I'm completely smitten.


Of all the things I'm thankful for, I'll never be able to say how grateful I am for my family.

Lessons Learned

On the way home today, Josh and I were talking about our work environment in Rockford. We talked about the demands of our respective positions--ridiculous timelines, customer pressure, internal practices. While I'm thankful I had a job while we lived in Rockford, and while I appreciate the work experience it provided, I do not miss the stress, the pounding headaches I developed almost every morning between 9 and 10, or the grey hairs I used to find every morning in the mirror (this sounds silly, but I honestly think they went away when I moved...).

Our discussion made me realize two things. One, I am so glad to be out of that environment. This isn't to suggest that my new job doesn't come with stress of its own, but I consider it "reasonable" stress, like trying to wrap my mind around everything we do, since it will impact my work, which is not to be confused with "unreasonable" stress, like trying to meet deadlines in 24 hours when usually I was promised two weeks, back to back to back to back to back. I haven't had a single stress headache since I started, and I haven't had to bang my head on my desk once. (This was usual practice at my old job.)

Second, all of that stress I experienced in Rockford wasn't without its benefits. Going through it made me realize that, to an extent, I don't have to go through it. I put pressure on myself to pull off miracles, but when I realized that, unless you're Jesus, miracles don't happen just because you want them to, it was a relief. All I could do was my best. I didn't give less than that, but I realized that I couldn't give more, either. That attitude served me well as I wrapped up my time in Rockford, and it's served me well thus far in my new job. The nice thing is that here, for a change, doing my best is all that is asked of me.

So it's been awhile

I haven't written since last fall. Oops...

Instead of trying to wrap nearly a year's worth of events into one post, which would be far too much work for me and, I'm afraid, far too boring for anyone to want to read, here is where we are now.

Josh and I moved to Peoria. We both have jobs at a fantastic company, for which we are so very thankful. And we still get to have lunch together every day. We are renting a house with a yard and an attached garage, that's about ten minutes from anywhere we might need to be, and that's no where near the river or a flood plain of any sort. Winston has a little brother, Chappu, who will have been a part of our family for a year in October. They both seem quite content to have windows through which they can watch the world go by.

Our summer has been busy, stressful, hectic, and full of change, but the end of the transition finally came, and here we are. We made it!

And hopefully, this means you'll be hearing a lot more from me from now on...

Ahh....

It is currently 67 degrees in Rockford, with a gusty wind. I have on the pants I wore to work, but instead of the pink wool sweater that kept me warm (and was relatively itch-free), I am snuggled up in an old Olivet sweatshirt and a pair of Josh's socks, which I justified stealing because they go up further on my legs than mine do. Last night we had to put two blankets on the bed. Tonight, we may not even be able to crack the windows.

(Inexplicably, the Juarez ice cream bells are ringing in the distance. Ice cream...no. But hot chocolate? A definite maybe!)

Fall is here, I think. Hurray!

Saturday

We've made it through another week, with God's help and presence. And today is a beautiful fall day--warm, but not too hot or too cool, clear blue skies, a soft breeze, and the smell of autumn's approach. I love mornings like these, perhaps even more because I can enjoy them from home and not long for them as I wistfully (and wishfully) look out of the office window.

Today Josh and I will have a quiet kind of day. We are going out to lunch, then to run a few errands. I have to get his birthday present, and we need to get some supplies for the Mexican food we're making for supper tomorrow. This afternoon I might make some caballero cookies, might begin to organize my scrap book, might watch a little Food network. Josh will probably read or play his video game, and we will make dinner together later. A UFC is on cable tonight, so I know how my evening will be spent. And tomorrow we will wake and go to church.

Today I am thankful for everyday beauty. And now, I'm going to go enjoy it.

Just a quick update, before I drag Josh away from his video game so we can take a walk.

Things are going well in the Serrano household.

That's it.

Just kidding. :)

Labor Day weekend was loads of fun. We traipsed around Argyle (Josh found two old cowboy records, Mom found an antique), had lemon shakeups and ribeyes and kettle korn and chester chips (I seriously gained about fifteen pounds just looking at all the goodies. And then I ate them!) Got to see the fireworks and the parade and Sarah & Luke, went to church uptown and had lunch with the family, played with Oreo, and went to Gramma's to celebrate her birthday. Came home exhausted and had a very relaxing day yesterday and managed to scrub the bathroom clean, too.

This morning, I don't think I had loathed the thought of work quite so much since I worked in TN, and there, I loathed every day. But we got up and went, anyway...oh, what we must do to pay the bills! Josh has been having a time with his BW lately, which I won't detail here, but it is making him rather anxious to move. I am excited about our future too---if only we could convince Rachel to come! Honestly, I think that's where most (95%) of my hesitation comes from: I want to be near Mom and Dad and Mario and Rita, and I want to settle there and start a family, but I hate the thought of not living ten minutes up the road from her. I don't know when we'll move, but I am quite sure that will be the hardest part for me.

Josh and I applied for FEMA aid and a contractor came and talked to us this afternoon. Don't know if anything will come of it, but it couldn't hurt to try. Nothing for the truck, the non-essential stuff in the basement, but perhaps a little reimbursement for the washer and dryer, and a shot at a low interest loan. Honestly, I hope it helps people who lost their basements and such...but I won't complain if we get a little help, too.

Well, it is officially dusky and has cooled off enough for me to make my attempt at a walk. Just a note if he complains: it was his idea to begin with!

August in pictures

August started out as a nice month. Josh and I didn't travel the first weekend. We worked, relaxed, and went to our church on Sunday.

Then, on Tuesday the 8th, I woke up and saw this:


It's very dark, but if you look closely, you can make out the top of our truck, which, along with the rest of the road, was under 5 feet of water. It had already gone down at least a half foot or more.

I cried.

A few hours later, the firemen rescued us off our front porch, again. These were the same firemen who came to get us last year. This is the view down 14th street from the boat:



Later that afternoon, when the water had receded some, we went back home to get Winston and some clothes for work. Here is a picture of Rachel and me walking through our alley. The water was over my knees at one point:




Needless to say, we lost both a few things: our vehicles, a few items of clothing, six cds, Josh's muay thai equipment, our washer and dryer, and worst for me, a tupperware that hadn't been closed all the way, which held cards Grampa Copes had written in. I'm still pretty sick over that. But God is faithful, and we made it out okay.

Our landlord had the basement cleaned the very next day. Our company gave us a paid day off. Rachel let us stay with her for the week. With our insurance (the company once again treated us phenomenally), we were able to get a new car before the week was up:


(It's just like the old one, but shiny, new, and black! In the background, you can see our rental, a PT Cruiser. Josh hated it.)

So here we are, a few weeks out from the second flood we've lived through in the past 11 months. We are doing okay...even better, really. We're happy, blessed, and so very thankful for all we have.

Most of all, each other.

On Reading

Lately I've noticed that, when it comes to reading, I have developed post-graduate ADD: I can't seem to stay focused or overly interested in anything I've started this summer. Not Donald Miller's "new" book (which is at least two years old). because I started it right after school and didn't have the motivation to read one more thing that made me think (even if I really enjoy his style and his thoughts.) Not The Shepherd of the Hills, which to this day remains my favorite book of all time, because I started it right before the July travel extravaganza began. And not a historical non-fiction book about the New Madrid earthquakes Mom let me borrow, because my evenings seem to be full of other activities that are more pressing, like playing Final Fantasy X in the air conditioning. I think my brain has needed time to decompress, which may be why it refuses to soak up anything longer than Glamour. (Yes, I read Glamour. And I like it. Sue me.)

Perhaps once the weather cools, and our traveling slows, and other activities seem less pressing, I'll jump back into reading at a more normal pace for myself. I do miss it, really. At least this fall I won't be burdened with reading at least two novels every week--not that reading two novels in a week is in and of itself a burden, but looking for the right angle around which one can both sound halfway intelligent in class immediately and frame a late-in-the-semester argument for one of two or three 20-pg term papers, all while trying to remember the subtleties of plots and characters, certainly can be. And they will be novels of my own choosing, not of someone else's. They will be what I like and not what someone tells me I should like, or, at the very least, appreciate as a hallmark of The Canon. So if I read War and Peace or the next Repairman Jack novel, no one is going to judge my taste in literature (except perhaps Josh, who would probably vote for Repairman Jack): I am no longer chained to the ideal of an English major. That's nice, too. Sometimes I think novels are simply notches on the belt for English majors, so to speak. A point upon which one can be braggadocios, but which, in the end, don't really mean much at all.

Here's to reading (or conversely, not reading at all) what I want to because I want to, not because I have to or because I think I should. Here's to remembering why I loved literature enough to study it for six years to begin with. Here's to cool nights and hot tea and good books, and to hazy summer evenings where I do nothing but drape myself across the bed in the one room of our duplex that is air conditioned, playing video games and watching movies and old Seinfeld episodes..

That sounds pretty darn good right now...

Quickly

Josh & I have Chinese on the way, so this will be quick. (It is entirely too hot to cook, though somehow my dearest beloved convinced me to make chili last night...)

To sum up the last month and a half: exhausting.

This weekend is the first in four we will not travel. Chillicothe, home, Dr. B's wedding. Before that, a weekend off, then: Rachel left for Kenya, we went home, we celebrated our anniversary, we went to Six Flags, and we went to Chillicothe, again. Somewhere in the middle, our computer died and was resuscitated by a coworker's boyfriend.

I want to write more, but it is too hot in the study to stay. How I love the humidity of late summer :)

More to come, promise...

One Year Ago Today

Because this is the end of my first week...

I am not going to the gym tonight. I am tired, my feet hurt, and I don't feel like just using the bike to take a break from standing. I am further justifying this decision with a) the fact that, by and large, I have been burning more calories each day simply by being more active, and b) Josh, myself, Rachel, and her friend Char are going to Six Flags tomorrow, which means I'll be getting plenty of exercise then. I'll go again on Monday (hopefully Wednesday, too) and will get into a new routine (how I miss working out in the morning!), and everything will be fine. So be kind, dear readers, and don't judge: I am doing that plenty well on my own!

So, for a quick update. Josh and I went to Chillsville last weekend to visit family and for Claude-Ellen days, the town festival. Had lots and lots of fun. Josh and I took a ride on a Ferris Wheel Friday night: I felt like a seventh grader, having never done that with a boy I liked before. We went to the carnival and parade, ate lots of bad-for-you food, spent time with the fam, and got to see Raul's land, which I really enjoyed because it is beautiful and I got to hang out with his cousin Tori, and because I could actually hear the cicadas, which has eluded me living in town. All in all, it was a nice, relaxing break before starting work on Monday.

About work: even though it was only my first week, which means many, many trials are sure to arise in the months to come, I think I am going to like my job. So far it's been a lot of immersion learning: read about this procedure, go talk to this person, watch this line in process... Next week I'll get a better sense of what I'll be doing, and I'm looking forward to that, though I certainly don't expect to have it all down anytime soon. Sometimes it hits me that this is what I do now--so strange, because during school, anything I did was, this is what I do for now. But this is my real job. I won't get weeks off over Christmas. I won't be up until 2 in the morning writing papers. I won't have any grading to do. I can read whatever I want. I will work, and I will do it well because a lot of people depend on me doing it well, and at the end of the day, I can come home and be me. Even when all I did was read SOP's for three hours, I never felt anxiety that I should have kept at school, because this whole new, unexpected world is out there. It is a frightening, refreshing thought. I think this whole tech writing thing is going to be alot more interesting than it was in my college class. What I do here has consequence, and I was hired because they had confidence I could do the job. It's a neat feeling, really, and it is one, like the getting up and actively engaging myself for 8 hours a day, which will take some getting used to.

And now, just because I want to, and because I can, and because I am being a lazy-butt and not going to the gym, I am going to reward myself for accepting this new venture with a nice hot bath...

My List

Nearly three years ago I started a list of things I wanted to do in my life. Here it is, in review, with additional commentary. Those bolded have been accomplished, if not in whole, at least in part.

1. Run in Race for the Cure.
I wanted to do this for Becky and my aunt Sandy. This, I believe, will be accomplished when Josh and I move back to the Peoria area, as his mother participates. (I cannot say whether I will walk or run--I suppose participating at all is the important thing.)

2. Learn another language fluently.
The language I had in mind was Russian (see #3), and while I'd still like to learn it, learning Spanish is my desire now.

3. Go back to Ulyanovsk.
I have no idea how or when or even if this will be accomplished. But I do believe that if it is God's desire, He will make a way for me just like He did the first time.

4. Write a novel, published or not.
This may have been a bit overzealous. My goal at the moment is to write a short story and see how that goes. I am not overly optimistic at this point :)

5. Write something that is published.
If you count the web-zine that was created as part of my creative non-fiction grad class, this has been accomplished. Technically, I don't, so this is still a goal--I think I have a piece from said class that could be published, and I'm optimistic that I could write something else worthy of publication, too. In the meantime, I'm focused on getting Josh's stuff out there--at least he has stuff!

6. Memorize the Bible verses I have underlined.
I am sadly behind on this one. Josh and I have a new Bible, though, which means it is relatively free from marking, which means I have new verses to discover and remember. I think that's exciting.

7. Get married carrying a bouquet of tulips.
Done June 17, 2006! Except the flowers were calla lilies, my new (and permanent) favorite.

8. Play "Piano Man" on the piano.
I wanted to do this because Carla told me I couldn't. I'll show her...someday :)

9. Learn the guitar.
Technically, I know one Russian song. And Josh has promised to teach me the rest.

10. Make pie as good as Gramma Beck.
This has to be a lifetime goal, because Gramma's pie is unbelievable. I think I have the guts of it down, but the crust is another story. I literally have to stop myself from swearing nearly every time I make it.

11. Eat at a four-star restaraunt.
I don't know if Nippon's is considered four star or not, but it may be the closest I've come. And it is fantastic.

12. Donate hair to Locks of Love.
I tried this once and got sick of my hair, so I caved and had it cut. But growing hair is quite easy, so I think someday I can do this.

13. Save $10,000 in my bank account.
Being married has definitely helped me come closer to this goal than I ever came on my own.

14. Get a professional massage.
Still a goal, and no matter when it happens--even if I'm 85--I know it will be great.

15. See all 50 states.
18 down, 32 ro go.

16. Climb a mountain.
I have techinically walked down a mountain, but I want to walk up, too. I know Pikes Peak has a path, so we'll see...

17. Earn my Masters degree.
Done as of May 12, 2007. YAY!!

18. Have good seats at a concert.
I'm not sure who I'd even want to see now, and I can't remember who I had in mind when I made this list. Perhaps if Sara Groves or Nickel Creek come around, I'll do this.

19. Paint on an oil canvas.
Bob Ross I am not, but I'd like to try it.

20. Sit on the first base line at a professional ballgame.
Addendum: When this happens, I will also eat bad-for-you ballpark food. I think a weiner is on my menu :)

21. Have a family.
I am part of a two-person, one-cat family right now, and I love it. But hopefully in the next couple of years, we'll add even more joy to it!

22. Make a discovery.
This was a rather vague goal, I must admit. Depending upon how you look at it, I have accomplished this and have yet to accomplish it. Most of what I've discovered won't impact the world as a whole, but perhaps that isn't the point of discovery at all.

23. Fill out my passport.
I'm not sure how important this is to me anymore. I'd love to see the world, but I am also content at home. So maybe I should change it to simply travel.

24. Cook a full course meal.
I have done this for Josh. Hopefully someday I'll do it for friends and family, too. We shall see!

25. Go back to the cabin.
I've wanted to do this since we left it the last time. I don't imagine I'll ever get to go back inside, but I think driving by it on a boat would satisfy my desire to see a place which held so many happy childhood memories for me.

26. Experience requited love.
Done, done, done, done. Addendum: Live another 74 years so we can celebrate our 75th anniversary.

Great news!

Friday morning, I got a job offer from Anderson, which I accepted without hesitation. My first day is two weeks from today, June 4th. In effect, this means I have a two-week vacation before starting--time to play wife, to relax, to write, to read, to do all those things I couldn't do in school. And then...a big girl job with big girl benefits and big girl pay.

Yay!

Update

This is me on Saturday. I officially earned a Masters of Arts in English and am a graduate of Northern Illinois University. In a day or so, I will receive my diploma in the mail to prove it. It's all over...yay!


On a related note, I got an A on my final graduate paper, and the final exam that I whined so incessantly about wasn't that big of a deal, after all. I did end up using some of our additional time, too--so much for my strongly worded laments about it existing in the first place :)

The whole family came up for graduation, and even though it was an exhausting weekend, I had a great time. Mario and Rita came up on Friday and I spent the afternoon with them until Josh got home from work, when we went out for supper and a quick shopping trip. Mom and Dad arrived later that night and stayed with us (Jeremy stayed with Rachel)--they also brought our wedding album--yay! Saturday was the ceremony; afterwards we came back Rockford, had lunch and came to our apartment for cake. Mom and Dad got me a music/jewelry box and Mom also gave me the ring that belonged to my great-aunt Mildred, who died in 1917 at the age of 2 1/2. It is tiny, tiny and has hearts around it. Josh got me an MP3 player, which I had fun playing with yesterday. Should liven up going to the gym a bit :) Mario and Rita left not long after that, and the rest of us scattered as well--Rachel and I took Mom shopping; Josh took a quick nap and sent out some queries; Jeremy and Dad mowed Rachel's lawn. We came together for supper and spent the rest of the night relaxing, and Sunday we went to church as a family to celebrate Mother's Day.

I think Mother's Day, like all holidays have this year, meant a little more to me because of how close we came to losing Mom. To look at her, you probably would never know she spent two and a half weeks in the ICU with a shunt draining fluid off her brain. You would never know that if Dad hadn't come home when he did she might have died at home, nor would you know about the hours he spent by her side, worrying and trying so hard not to let his worry show. You'd never know she still has headaches every day. But she was in the hospital. She could have died. Her hair has grown back, but she still hurts. But, by the grace of God, she is still here. I think that's pretty amazing.

On a somewhat related note (not to be morbid), Uncle Wendell, Grampa's younger brother, passed away Sunday night. I am sad because I loved him very much, because he was such a warm and loving man, because he always shared Thanksgiving and Christmas with us, and selfishly, because he was a piece of Grampa that remained after Grampa left us. They shared the same sense of humor and the same sparkling blue eyes. Grampa always called him "Babe" because he was the baby, and I can't help but think that when Uncle Wendell arrived in Heaven, Grampa said, "Babe! What took you so long? I've got so many things to show you..." I am sad for his family, too. I have been there, and it hurts so much. But I am thankful for the time they got to spend with him before he died, and I'm thankful for all the holidays I got to spend with him, and I'm so thankful he doesn't hurt anymore. His funeral is Friday, and I wish I could go.

But I want to end this on a positive note, so I am going to go to a subject now that seems so inconsequential in the face of death. But it is part of life. I went in for my second interview at Anderson yesterday, and I am hoping to hear by the end of the week whether or not I will be offered a position. I am fairly optimistic about it, and if not, I have a few other places to apply to today. Rachel is receiving her M.S. on Saturday, and we (all the family) are going to Chicago to see it. Jeremy is driving, thankfully. I have time to be myself again. I have books that are waiting to be read, and I don't have to worry about writing papers on them. Josh and I can take a walk any night of the week. Rachel lives down the road and we can hang out so much before she leaves for Africa. Winston woke me up with bo-jangles again this morning. I have so much to be thankful for.

One last hoop

Today I have spent the majority of my morning reviewing notes for tomorrow's exam, and frankly, I'm sick of it. For the most part, I have really enjoyed the class: I have found the readings interesting (minus Pound and Ashberry), the class discussions have been well constructed and enlightening, and even the paper I wrote for last week wasn't too much of an undertaking. But now I'm reviewing probably 25 poems, in addition to several pages of notes I have constructed around the study guide, in an attempt say something relevant about whatever it is Dr. VW sees fit to ask. Ugh.

I hate that he's running it like comps. I've already taken comps once, and that was plenty. How can I be expected to cram a semester's worth of material in my head when I have so little direction on what to remember? Isn't it a little much to ask a student to make relevant connections without any texts to refer to--especially when the exam is centered on poetry (the details of which are much more difficult to remember than the plot of a novel)? Of course, we had to do that with comps, but we had three months to prepare first of all, and secondly, we weren't comparing poetry to poetry. And we knew which six poems to read!

I also hate that, because we've gone late so many times this semester, the "fix" is to give us more time to complete the exam. He said that this would not mean the exam will be more difficult, but if we have 45 minutes to revise our essays, I find that hard to believe. Especially since, when taking the four hour comp exams, three of those hours are to be dedicated to writing and one to revising. I finished writing my last essay with about five minutes left.

I hate that there wasn't a loophole for students who have a) already taken comps and b) do not plan to further their education. I've done it once, and I'm not going to do it again. So what's the point?

The point is, it's the last hoop I have to jump through before Saturday. I don't like it and I find it relatively useless, but it must be done. So I'm going to stop whining and get back to studying. Just don't expect me to be happy about it.

A Quiet Interlude

Last Thursday I handed in my final graduate paper, an analysis of the gender tensions in Spoon River Anthology. This Thursday I will take my final final exam, for which I should be studying but am instead writing. Saturday, the door of school will close behind me, and I will walk out into a different world, and I do not know what it will hold.

What I do know, however, is that I am enjoying this quiet interlude between school and work. I have peace, and I have hope. I am assured that the decision to leave academia was the right one, and that, in making that decision, I won't be left without a future. I don't know what that future holds--I had to turn down a position at the Star because the hours were such that I never would have seen Josh, or anyone for that matter, and Anderson hasn't called back yet. I have sent out probably a half dozen or more cover letters without any response so far--but I have faith that I will hear from someone and, if it isn't Anderson, at least I had a dry run at interviewing.

But I am trying not to think about that too much. I will not be defined by my career; that was clear as soon as I gave up teaching. I have hope for a different kind of life.

And for now, I have peace. I have the sun shining. I have birds singing. I have a drowsy cat looking out the window. I have an email from my husband to read. I have studying to finish, and a diploma to claim.

For once, I am beautifully uncertain. And that's okay.

Let the waiting commence

So I just finished my first "real" interview in over three years for a tech writing position at Anderson. In the whole twenty minutes I've been home, I've waffled between soaring confidence and sinking depression. Simply, I don't know how I did, and that's frightening.

I talked to Josh afterwards and he was very, very supportive (as he has been through all of this, even kissing away the butterflies in my tummy before he left this morning). He said my answers sounded articulate, and, while I'm not certain about that, I don't think I made a complete idiot of myself. Only one question caught me really off-guard; the rest I was able to work my way through with good examples, though in hindsight I'm worried I repeated myself too much.

Let me rephrase that. I'm worried about everything.

I did my best. My parents always told me that was everything and the only thing they would expect from me. I don't know why I'm expecting more of myself than that.

So we'll see. I'm supposed to hear by Monday.

And if nothing else, it was a way to jump back into the interview process, which is something I know I'll be repeating often in the next few weeks.

Especially since the Star called this morning, too.

:)

Oh, happy day!

Sometimes the silliest, most inconsequential things make my day.

For example:

Below is a picture Josh took of me on September 4, 2006, the day of the infamous Rockford flood. I am standing on our front steps, showing off the river that formed in our road. (Vanna White, eat your heart out.) In the upper right-hand side of the picture, you can see a black truck up to its windshield in water.




When the Salvation Army made its way through our neighborhood to feed us supper, the truck remained. When companies were offering to junk flooded vehicles for money, it stayed. When the towers from Country Companies hauled away my Malibu, the truck remained. When fall faded into winter, it was still there. When our truck got stuck in ice, it remained parked, unmoving, in a perfectly dry spot. When Josh and I went for a grocery run a few months ago, we noticed people moving it and were pleased. To our dismay, when we returned, it was back in its original stationary position. When someone stole the radio from our truck, it stayed, untouched. Finally, in February (five months post-flood) I called the city to complain. The truck remained.

Two days ago, an orange sticker finally appeared on its window. A police warning. Hope?

This morning, when I looked out our living room window...

It was finally gone.

Oh Happy Day!!!

Just what I needed...

"We do not know how the Lord will answer, but He has promised that He will."

For Tomorrow

Three years have come and gone since you left us to be with God.

I miss you, Grampa.

I miss the twinkle in your eyes when you were getting ready to tease.

I miss seeing you wink at me from across the sanctuary at church.

I miss the way you talked to your boxers.
I miss the way you called Daddy "son."

I miss our rides on the moped after working in the garden.

I miss waking up to the smell of your coffee and toast when I'd stay with you and Gramma.

I miss the pieces of doublemint gum you'd give us at camp.

I miss the days when Gramma didn't hurt because you are gone.

I miss being called "Dearie."

But more than all that, I love you so much, and I'm thankful you don't hurt anymore. You had such a beautiful life here on earth. I know tomorrow is your new birthday...but please don't get upset if I still cry. We all send our love--Josh, too. He's heard so much about you.

I love you, Grampa. Happy new birthday.

Blue

Today is a blue day...

I began my morning by watching the latest developments concerning the VT shootings. News is important, and I watch it nearly every day, but today it is overwhelming. Too much sadness. Too much grief. Too much pain. Too many questions that can never be answered. Too much access to all of it. I have turned the television off. I don't even know if I will watch the evening news tonight.

I worked on my paper some and got discouraged, so I worked on a cover letter for another company who technically isn't even hiring now, though I was encouraged to send a cover letter and resume anyway. Anderson hasn't called yet. The only other offers I am recieving are for sales positions. On the up-and-down job market search, today is a down day.

Because he had to work through to make it to a dentist appointment this afternoon, Josh couldn't call during lunch. At least, I didn't think he could. I checked my email and he didn't write. I checked my phone and had missed his call. Which is appropriate, because I miss him. I don't care if that sounds pathetic. He will be home late again and today is a long day without his company and love.

Grampa died three years ago this week. I miss him, too.

So here are things to be thankful for, to turn my blue around:
1. The sun is shining.
2. I am healthy. My family is healthy. Josh's family, for the most part, is healthy, and even those who aren't are doing better.
3. Winston woke me up with bo-jangles this morning.
4. I still have a month-ish to find a job.
5. Our washer and dryer work.
6. Josh has a job, and even though I only go twice a week and get paid minimally, right now, so do I.
7. Grampa is in heaven.
8. God has carried me through nearly two and a half years of graduate studies, and soon, He will set my feet down on the stage to recieve my diploma.
9. God carried me through comps, and I passed.
10. God has always carried me.
11. Ten months ago today, I married my best friend.
12. Someone helped me at the gym yesterday without making me feel like an idiot.
13. Despite its touchiness in second gear and the fact it now lacks a radio, the truck still runs.
14. My paper is due in two weeks. This means, in two weeks, I will be all but a test away from finishing my master's.
15. I am not going back to school next year. I may not go back, ever. And that is okay.
16. Josh and I get to see his family this weekend. Mario is grilling Saturday, and we are cooking lunch for Rita on Sunday.
17. Since we are going to Peoria, there is a chance we'll visit Grand View Drive.
18. Gramma and I get to talk at 5:30 every evening. I still think that's pretty cool.
19. This list doesn't even begin to enumerate all I have to be thankful for.

There. That helped.

Everything and nothing

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what having a career actually means.

If you'd asked me even six months ago what I'd be doing with myself upon graduation (whether at this level or the next), my response would have been prompt: "I'm going to be a professor." Had I decided to stick it out and pursue a PhD, I would have spent the next four or more years in front of the classroom, teaching various levels of freshman composition and introductory lit courses. Then, once I'd completed my disseration and graduated, I would have found a job doing the same at a community college or university, the most likey of the limited option one faces with a high-level English degree. Academia would have figured my future out for me.

Instead, I graduate in less than a month and I have to again face the work place with an "everything and nothing" degree. I have writing and communication skills; I am an effective manager of people, duties, and time; I can spot a comma splice a mile away; I am decent at learning new technology; I am hardworking; and if you need a close analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God or 1984, I'm your woman. These are my qualifications, but finding a job that neatly fits them is nearly impossible. My mother, a nurse, need only look for postings which say "RN wanted." My sister, a teacher, can limit herself to early childhood education positions. I am professional; my degree, while impressive, is not readily.

This is scary and exciting. The last job I had out of academia (excluding my year-ish stint at Barnes and Noble) gave me good workplace experience and was also a little bit of hell, so I am optimistic that whatever I find in Rockford will utilize those skills and won't be as bad as that was, and even if it is, at least I won't have crushing loneliness on top of it. Josh found a good job with the same degree and, the first time, without any outside experience. He's given me a lead at his company, and I am hoping to hear from them this week. My boss at the Writing Center forwarded another position in Rockford on Friday. A woman Rachel works with suggested her husband's company.

I know I'll find a job. I trust God, I hope, and I believe that somewhere, someone will let this girl with two "everything and nothing" degrees do...something.

It is currently 51 degrees outside. I am sitting in the study with the space heater blasting warmth onto my feet. Across the street and down a little, a man is mowing his lawn. Welcome to the paradox of April.

Happy belated Easter, all.

Our Holy weekend started off with sleeping in, followed by a Good Friday service at our church (sidenote: I am so happy to have finally found a church in Rockford. The congregation might not be the youngest, but the preaching is engaging, the worship is uplifting, and it all around seems to be a good fit for both Josh and myself. Yay!). After church, we spent the majority of Good Friday looking for a reasonably priced solid dresser, which is more difficult than one would think. At the end of the day we returned to Pino Viejo, a Mexican store that is going out of business. Long story short, although we thought the dresser that we wanted was sold, we got it: a heavy-duty, solid, completely made of wood, clothes won't fall through the bottom of the broken drawer dresser, all for $250; and with Philip's help, it now occupies a large space in our bedroom. Yay :)

Saturday we got up early to head home and instead drove straight down to Gramma's for lunch. Aunt Naomi and Uncle Todd were both there, and Dad, Jeremy, and Rachel showed up not too long after we did (Mom had to work the weekend and couldn't come--boo). It was sort of like Thanksgiving in the spring. I loved it. I love my family. I love the farm. I love that no matter where I live and no matter what happens, home is always the same. It's very comforting.

We also visited Gramma and Grampa Beck; Jeremy left so he could make it to church the next morning with his girlfriend; Rachel and I ran a few errands in the evening, and then we all kind of pooped out at home.

Sunday, of course, was Easter. It was the first Easter Josh and I have spent together--hopefully the first of 75. Church was pretty full, and that's nice to see. It was also nice to see lots of kids--even though they were incredibly distracting during the sermon (which I blame on the parents more than them)--at least they were celebrating the Resurrection in church, and maybe the fact that Easter is about more than Cadbury eggs sunk in, even a little bit. I hope so. I pray so.

Now, back in the ol' Rock. All is well. Started a gym membership yesterday (so much for all my whining) and went this morning, and I feel FANTASTIC. Wait til tomorrow ;) Am convinced I will keep it up, and am excited to see what difference it makes.

This was incredibly boring, and I apologize, but as far as I know no one really reads this; perhaps it is worse, then, that I just bored myself. :) Oh well. Good for posterity's sake!

On Patience

I had a dentist appointment this morning, to fill some cavities I've probably had for quite some time. Generally I am much more mature about visiting the dentist than I was as a teenager; I realize he has a job to do, and I need him to do his job; therefore, I won't complain. And besides, the novocaine shots don't hurt as much as I'd remembered (particularly in comparison to a tattoo!)

I like my dentist. This morning, I learned that most of Winnebago county likes him, too.

My appointment was for 10:30. I arrived ten minute before my appointment was slated to begin, and for the next forty minutes watched a show where men in fancy boats catch fish, hold them up to the camera with big "look at what I just did" grins, and throw the fish back. Repeatedly. Finally, at 11:00 I was called to the back, where I sat for another half hour watching the atrocious Fox News station--full of so much good news! The dentist came back around 11:30 and I am assuming would have started immediately were it not for the very intriguing story about Osama Bin Laden's heir that began just at the moment he was to begin working on my mouth. I cleared my throat as if to say, "Hey! I'm still here! And they'll repeat this story six hundred times in the next hour, so can we get on with this please?"

He shot me with novocaine and left. Again.

Finally, after over an hour of waiting, he began my fillings. They took, perhaps, fifteen minutes total. And I have to go back, because they were so far behind he couldn't finish the job.

Sigh... I am a fairly patient person, but I think my day's quota was sucked out along with my spit. Blech.

On the bright side, I am having a fantastic hair day, so I suppose all is not lost :)

Josh is at muay thai class, which always prompts me to consider working out myself. I do so at home sometimes, but it just seems silly, lifting weights in the living room and doing sit ups in front of the t.v. I could join a gym, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be motivated to go and it would be a waste of money. I could walk around the neighborhood, but I don't feel comfortable doing that at night by myself. I could, but I don't, so I make lots of excuses. If only we had a treadmill...sigh. Perhaps I can console myself in the fact that laundry is waiting for me in the basement, and the trips up and down the stairs might tone my thighs as much as a jaunt around the neighborhood. Such is wishful thinking :)

I can tell my focus isn't in writing (ironic, since I started the blog to have a place to focus), so instead of long drawn-out paragraphs, tonight you're getting the Reader's Digest version:

• Mom and Daddy came up this weekend and, after some skillful manuevering, managed to install their old washer and dryer in our basement. No more waiting til we go home to do laundry! Yay! On top of that, we had a great visit.
• Mom seems to be doing well, still recovering. Am sure she had a headache, but she didn't complain once, and she didn't seem too tired. I found emails Josh and I had sent while she was in the hospital--so hard to believe it was only a few months ago. It seems like Mom was sick a lifetime ago. It seems like yesterday.
• Rach got the list for jobs open in the Rockford school district today. I'm really praying she finds something new. Her job now is such a weight on her shoulders. I'd like to see the load lighten a bit, to see her enjoy teaching as much as she did when she taught bi-lingual preschool.
• Have officially started the job search. Josh is helping, and our landlord (ie, the best landlord EVER) offered to keep his ear to the groud for me. So perhaps before long I'll have a job that pays real money!
• Got the go-ahead from Dr. VW for my paper topic--gender tensions/representations in Spoon River Anthology. Am really excited about this. I've loved SPA since high school. This will be the first paper I've really cared about or felt invested in in over a year. A nice way to end my education, I think.
• Josh and I have decided to stay in Rockford for at least another year, and our landlord's bringing a new lease in the next couple weeks. This really excites me. It will be the first summer in three years that I haven't moved. And it means we get to stay in our first married home a little while longer. In a completely sentimental way, this pleases me more than I can express.
• Yesterday we went to Rachel's for lunch after church (to see Mom and Dad off, too), and Fritzie didn't growl or hiss at me once. This may be the first time, ever. I was thrilled.
• I love the sound of birds in spring. Even when they wake me up.

And now...to the laundry.