thanks a lot irene

I grew up with my cousins. We spent every birthday, holiday, and summer camp together. And every Fall all nine of us were given rakes and let loose on Meema and Grandpa’s yard. There were sing alongs and leaf pile jumping, and inevitably a kick-ball game. 

I was thinking about time spent raking Meema’s yard on Sunday. Instead of rural Connecticut, I was in Lincoln Park, New Jersey. Rake in hand, I was cleaning up the final bits of the prickly pear tree that used to oversee my in-laws yard. Hurricane Irene was mean and overwhelming to lots of people, including our families. Jake had sweat-soaked through every bit of clothing after spending 3 hours climbing and cutting down the fallen tree. My body was achey from pulling limb after limb to the yard’s edge. Raking and finishing the job was satisfying though. No matter what the inside of the house looked like, we could accomplish the yard.

current state of the kitchen and living room

It was a good and exhausting weekend. Saturday I got a blister on my right thumb from using the drill for a few hours. I feel successful when I’ve got some battle wounds (yes, I just called a blister a wound, I’m a sarcastic soul). We bleached and lugged and wet-vac-ed galore. Sunday we met for breakfast, shared wedding photos, and then went back to work. Bleaching the innards of the walls and the basement, coming up for a breath of fresh air, and heading back into the flood-musk and bleach fumes. Jake went to town on the fallen prickly pear tree, and I joined a couple from church in pulling the limbs away. Out of the woodwork appeared a group from a Mormon church, clad in yellow “Mormon Helping Hands” shirts. They stayed for at least 2 hours, lugging and sawing and sweating right with us. At one point there were at least 50 yellow-shirted volunteers covering the lawn. Everyone dispersed once the tree was gone. I dug up a rake from the swampy shed and went to town on the lawn. I was caught up in humming "Thy Word" and before I knew it, yellow-shirted volunteers appeared again, asking for rakes to help. How’s that saying go? Many hands makes light work, or something like that? Its true, thats for darn sure. That yard was forgetting its flooded experience posthaste.

dad-in-law clearing out flood affected belongings and sis-in-law amanda eating a disaster relief meal from the red cross

This weekend I was thankful for kind-hearted volunteers, help from Jake’s parent’s church, and quality time with family, despite difficult circumstances. On Monday we stopped at my parent’s house en route back to the North Shore. More good family time, cute babies and delicious Linnie-made baked goods (cinnamon buns, rhubarb bread, chocolate chip banana bread, my mouth is watering). When we left Jake again said “it was good to spend time with your family...with our family.” To which I responded, “it was a good weekend with both of our families.” 

So there Irene. You can't rain on our parade.

helen

Helen was born in 1920. Her father taught her to box so that she could stand up to her 6 brothers. When she grew up, she worked as a Principal's Assistant. After filling in for a few teachers, the Principal told her she ought to be a teacher too. She went back to school and got her degree. She taught kindergarten, then special ed., and rode a motorbike to work.

I met Helen almost 2 years ago. Jake had never brought a girl to Vermont to meet his Grammy before. She and I were fast friends, and then pen pals too, and time with Grammy has acted as stepping stones for our relationship- our first road trip, my first time with Jake's family, our first time looking at engagement rings, then working through putting off the engagement due to Jake's MS diagnosis, and then last Christmas, our actual engagement on the frozen beaver ponds behind Grammy's house. Gram's example challenges me- her energy, humor, faith. She said a few months ago that she prays every day for God to work His purpose through her life. She is 91, and still daily seeking God's purpose for her life. She also has these wonderful little phrases- "I need to make a visit," instead of "I need to go to the bathroom", "Let's go make some whoopi!" instead of "Let's go out on the town." There are lots of them- I need to be better at writing them down.

This weekend was our first time to visit since the wedding. Grammy couldn't make the trip down to Connecticut- what with being 91 and all- so when she sent her reluctantly declining reply, she sent it with a letter detailing her heart to be with us on our special day. The RSVP was sent to my mom, who replied to Grammy's letter. Of course, Grammy responded too, and so started another pen pal relationship, between my mom and my grandma-in-law. They have a lot in common- love for their kids, love for their grandkids, love for their Jesus. This weekend was their first time meeting in person.

It was the most precious of times. Breakfast on Saturday at our favorite place. Time driving through the mountains of Vermont, all 5 of us in one car, and Grammy pointing out clouds shaped like puppies or open-mouthed fish. We even spend Saturday afternoon singing hymns together to Gram's organ playing. On our way home last night, I found this in the glove box of our car:

Dear Kimberly + Jacob,

You people are certainly something very special in God's eyes, + mine too! God bless ALWAYS!

Love, Gram

a popham weekend

Popham, Maine that is. 

The husband and I drove north this weekend for a quiet respite. We stayed at the quaint and quiet Edgewater Farm and B&B. There we met Wendy, a retired NYC social worker who now volunteers around the world, working on organic farms and traveling to places she loves. We walked the grounds of the B&B, and struck a deal for blueberries and raspberries- we could keep half of anything we picked- a delicious deal for everyone involved. We ate good lobster this weekend too, tender scallops as well, and walked the Popham Beach State Park. As we do on any road trip, we took our time getting home, taking scenic routes and stopping for coffee or raw milk wherever we felt so inclined. Husband's perspective of the weekend: "I ate yummy food. I am happy."