A Poem For Holy Week

A SHORT TESTAMENT
by Anne Porter

Whatever harm I may have done
In all my life in all your wide creation
If I cannot repair it
I beg you to repair it,

And then there are all the wounded
The poor the deaf the lonely and the old
Whom I have roughly dismissed
As if I were not one of them.
Where I have wronged them by it
And cannot make amends
I ask you
To comfort them to overflowing,

And where there are lives I may have withered around me,
Or lives of strangers far or near
That I’ve destroyed in blind complicity,
And if I cannot find them
Or have no way to serve them,

Remember them.  I beg you to remember them

When winter is over
And all your unimaginable promises
Burst into song on death’s bare branches.

And Now, More Comments From a 34-year-old Stay At Home Mom

Recently viewed movies rated five stars by this moi:  Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, the new Annie, and Dolphin Tale 2.  Redbox would not allow me to add either Birdman or The Theory of Everything as my “additional movie for $1”, so I am unable to make a comparison. 

To people with e cigarettes:  You look ridiculous.  I’m driving a minivan and I’m embarrassed for you. 

I used to read an actual newspaper, every morning.  Then I briefly switched to the Houston Chronicle ap, which also proved elusive,  in terms of time.  Now I’m getting the NYTimes briefing email every day, which I sometimes delete without opening because I might have to look at something like Buzzfeed’s Disney Princes Who Turned Into Silver Foxes.  (It’s not that great; don’t bother clicking the link.)  I’ve learned that if your news comes without photos or headlines, and every story is 2 sentences long, it’s hard to grasp the relative importance of each story. 

Who am I kidding, the whole point of this post is to comment on e cigarettes.  Seriously, if you have to put something in your mouth, eat a Twizzler.  Somewhere Don Draper is rolling his eyes at you.

Curiosity

Holly is in a near constant state of movement.

I’ve made this dresses for her from this pattern before, but not from this fabric pattern:  dictionary pages.  When I found it, I bought everything left on the bolt.  If I can ever finish the quilt I’ve been *not* working on hand quilting for years, the scraps will be awesome in a new quilt. 

Front and center is “Curiosity” plus definitions.  It’s fitting that she won’t stay in one place long enough to show that.

Overheard

How white collar PTSD impacts the whole family, by Rush:  “Holly, don’t shut the blinds.  Mommy doesn’t like the blinds shut.  Mommy used to work in an office without a window and the people who had windows would shut the blinds.  Isn’t that crazy?”

Rush, sitting at the kitchen table with a binder full of paper and a box of markers, sketching out some superhero ideas for his birthday:  “I didn’t see this anywhere.  I made it up in my own head.” 

Tate, on a swing as wind rushed through the palm trees in the back yard:  “This is a GLORIOUS day!”

Holly, a few times a day:  “Cookie.  Cookie.  Cookie.”  It’s actually pronounced “cooka” when Holly says it and it’s so cute that she’s getting a lot of cookies.   

(I see that apple in Holly’s hands above and think back to life with one or two kids, when Food and Drinks in the Kitchen Only was a strictly enforced rule.  It has disintegrated into why is there yogurt in the living room get a rag and wipe it off the couch! and who brought milk upstairs?!  I really wish I was joking or elaborating about either one of those.) 

Cowgirl

When Rush was smaller and Tate was a baby, I bought a yard or two of great cowboy fabric that never actually became anything substantial.  There was temporarily a fabric covered cork board, which was most certainly destroyed, probably some pieces worked into quilts, and a pillowcase.  The pillowcase at some point reverted back to fabric waiting for a project and occasionally I would see it and think about making Holly something to wear for the rodeo.

The rodeo is happening now so it was almost too late for this year.  But amazingly, sewing a skirt for a little girl is –time wise- the best.  I was able to make the whole thing in the time in between taking Rush to school and Holly’s morning nap.  Sewing while Holly is awake means sewing, then plugging in the iron and ironing, then unplugging the iron and putting it away, then sewing again, then plugging back in the iron, then unplugging it and putting it away, then sewing again, then plugging back in the iron…During nap time, it would probably take ten minutes. 

Holly’s going to take her skirt and her vocabulary to rodeo: 
Cookie.  Cracker.  Daddy.  Thank you.  Ta-da!

Rodeo Time in Houston

Our family is in a hit or miss rodeo era.  If we have a newborn or people are springtime sick, we’re limited to boots and hats for Go Texan Day.  But if everyone is old enough to be in a big, dirty crowd:  It’s rodeo time!

We went to the parade on Saturday and at a solid hour and forty five minutes in length, it did not disappoint.  If there’s a limit to how long I can sit and watch horses and marching bands, it’s apparently at least that long, though slightly not that long for Rush.  You might think that you would leave the rodeo parade and crave brisket or chili for lunch, but in Houston you end up desperate for a taco from someplace where you will be embarrassed that you don’t speak Spanish. The charrerias were a highlight.

Williams Family Fan Favorite Award goes to the street sweepers squeezed in between trail riders and marching bands.

Someone recently asked for an update on my Not Buying Stuff Challenge of ‘15.  It goes like this:  -watching parade for hours- “Hey, I should buy cowboy boots at the rodeo this year!”  (I have never had more than an 8% desire to own cowboy boots and they cost like $300.)  “Oh wait, I’m not buying stuff this year.”  And life continues on.