This past week we had a little free time, plus eight lemons that had been sitting in my crisper drawer. The lemons were perfectly “cured” (in other words, we had been planning this for several days before we finally had a free day), so we set out to make fresh-squeezed lemonade.

Bring on the summer!

In keeping with my new resolve to catch up on my scrapbook pages, all pictures in this post are arranged for our scrapbook.

I started with a fresh-squeezed pink lemonade recipe out of The Kid’s Cookbook from Williams Sonoma. We left out the “pink” part of their recipe (involving mashing strawberries through a sieve). A new friend had posted something on pinterest about raspberry ice cubes, so that was the “pink” part in our lemonade.

… as do husbands with rifles… but that’s getting ahead of the story.

eHEM…. The Armadillo Story, by Annie Gerber.

At first, I thought Jack was digging in the flower beds. Not that I got mad, really, since it was just a couple flowers, but Drew and I thought that chaining him up at night might be a good solution. What a disastrous night! Apparently, Jack was keeping an evil, horrible, awful armadillo somewhat at bay during the night, because the next morning, I awoke to find the strawberry bed, watermelons, two flower beds, and the oregano completely destroyed!

I can not convey the anger. I wept, collapsed, and wept some more. I held Jack on my lap and tearfully apologized for doubting him as the best dog ever. I pouted and fretted. I turned on the TV at 8 in the morning and moped for a good hour. I gave up gardening. THEN, I got mad, which is always a wonderful way to get lots accomplished.

I will post a rare picture of myself, though:

This post is later in the day than I usually like to post on Wednesdays. We have a lot going on! Plus, this week I decided to kill two birds with one stone by completing (and posting) some pages for our family scrapbook. (These are mostly small two-page spreads. Click on any image to see it just a little bigger.)

The day after my rough post a couple Wednesdays ago, our family had a nice afternoon out together. My husband went to a rural town to cover for a local doctor, and the kids and I drove down that Thursday to visit him.

This was a different small town from the one I’ve posted about here and here. There’s a beautiful park in this town, and we spent most of our time on the playground equipment.

Building Lego cars to entertain kids is valuable work around here!

Daddy is still in quite a bit of pain from his knee replacement surgery. Apparently this is normal, just not much fun. He doesn’t allow the pain to make him cranky, though. Many times over the three and a half day visit, my dad said how incredibly glad he was that he married Mom. I heard this all during my growing up years. Even now, as an adult, it makes me feel all safe and secure to know that my parents love each other! Their marriage is a tank that has plowed through battles.

(As an added note: Do not think that just because my dad is in pain, you’re safe to squirt him with a water gun. My oldest child learned that “Papa” absolutely will defend himself in a water fight!)

I got butterflies in my stomach several times as we loaded boxes. I can’t believe we’re really moving HOME!

Mom’s help, of course, was invaluable. She knows where everything goes, she knows never to throw away tiny Lego pieces, she knows not to put all the clothes in the dryer. She must have matched a hundred socks, and she took genuine joy in finding little toy pieces and returning them to their sets. Thanks to her, the nursery is clean, the guest and nursery closets are packed, and the laundry is manageable.

“Unco Wigo,” as the kids call him, swept and mopped the floors, cooked pancakes, and cleaned the kitchen. He lived with us for a couple months last year, so he knows how things are done around here, too. The kids love him – all kids do. I think it’s because he feeds them Oreos. 😉 My husband took him fishing the last morning they were here, and they brought home several trout.

We were able to consolidate, label, and tape up several boxes to be moved into the storage/moving Pod. Many more boxes have been filled and are waiting to be closed and loaded the week before the move.

I’ve been looking forward to this move for so long. But there are some things I’ll miss about this place, too. I’ve compiled a list:

I will not miss: The rocks.
I will miss: The best home-grown carrots I’ve ever tasted.

I will not miss: The kids riding their bikes inside.
I will miss: The huge, tiled great room.

I will not miss: Driving an hour to get where we want to go.
I will miss: The local aquarium.

I will not miss: Being snowed in most of the winter and early spring.
I will miss: The strength of the sun.

I will not miss: May snowfall.
I will miss: Wildflowers and the smell of fresh-cut pine in the fall.

I will not miss: Being so far from family.
I will miss: Having to depend on each other only.

I will not miss: My husband working so much.
I will miss: The hope that all our problems will be solved after the move.

The list could be endless…

My regular Wednesday post will be delayed several days.

Looking out toward new – and much flatter – horizons! Thirty-four more days!

Spring sunshine makes this a great theme for this time of year! I’ve been seeing so many beautiful photos with sun flare lately, so I thought I’d give it a try. My two-year old daughter was a good sport about having her picture taken… as always!

This photo was entered into the I Heart Faces photo challenge – http://iheartfaces.com

This is a first for me in many ways:

– first time successfully getting sun flare
– first time using manual exposure to take pictures of an active child
– first time using off-camera flash while shooting manual (to compensate for the backlighting)
– first time processing in Lightroom (except a very brief trial)
– first time using Lightroom presets (these were from One Willow boutique)

A couple other pictures from this shoot are in this post.

Click here to browse more iheartfaces “yellow” entries. Thanks for stopping by!

He was pulled in for a procedure right before I arrived. This happens, and it’s ok. Instead of wallowing in the crookedness of my front teeth for the next half hour, I picked up the camera and experimented with more manual exposure shots.

If these are a little dull, I’ve succeeded in capturing the feeling of the moment. 😉

Here’s something slightly more exciting:

My son was listless, too.

Our lives seem like one big wait right now as we prepare to move home.

The thing about waiting…

If we can get beyond the hangups, it can be a useful time for digging down deeper and really learning something.

I remember trying to learn new piano pieces in elementary school. It always seemed impossible at first that I’d ever be able to play any of it!

Then, phrase by phrase, it started coming together, and I’d end up wondering why it seemed so impossible in the beginning.

Piano never totally clicked for me. I’ve learned as I get older that I’m much more inclined to observe and record than to create and express. I haven’t liked this about myself, but I’m beginning to realize some value in it.

As I’ve tried to learn the camera the last several months, I’ve been baffled by any possible reason I would want to shoot manual very often. It’s so insurmountably difficult to manage all the settings for each shot!

Phrase by phrase… shot by shot… wait upon wait…

Now, in the past few weeks, I’m starting to understand the reasons, and, at the same pace, it’s beginning to seem… remotely… possible.

Now can this principle begin to work for laundry, cooking, friendships, and parenting, please?

My husband grew up as the oldest of five siblings. After he left for college, his parents adopted another sibling group of five, plus a sixth foster child who was living with them and who became available for adoption at the same time. Several years later, they added the seventh, a little girl.

In 2003, the youngest of the older five kids (my husband and four others) died in an accident. Heidi was 21. Her loss was hard for everyone, not the least for the younger set of siblings, who were just beginning to hit their teen years.

As if that weren’t enough to bear, almost a year ago, my father-in-law suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm. We are so thankful to have him with us. My mother-in-law is managing his rehabilitation as she raises the younger kids.

Grief upon grief has piled up in the hearts of the kids – piling on top of the usual identity questions that adopted children face. Their stories aren’t mine to tell, but some of them struggle very deeply. Several are living with family and friends or in other places where they can cope with questions. Still, heart-wrenching crises happen as they grasp for ways to deal with life.

That is where we are today. Prayers are appreciated.

My husband and I have been house hunting for our move to the Midwest. We want to find a place where our kids will have the healthy community around them that they need. We’re also considering a place where my in-laws can move to be close to us and receive support as the future unfolds.

We found a place with a magical property around it, including an old apple orchard in need of tending, established grape vines, an old-fashioned clothesline, and a place to fish. The house wasn’t my style, but we thought we could fix that.

We made an offer, they counter offered, we counter counter offered, and, yesterday, they declined.

Bummer.

After events ranging from disappointing to horrible yesterday, my husband, who hardly ever sits still, lay there thinking for the longest time.

We’re going to be ok, as far as the house goes.

But I worry for my husband’s family. They need some relief. The kids need to know the deep, joyful love of God for them. They should be kicking around soccer balls and learning musical instruments and chowing down on pizza.

Life is precious. Love is the most important thing on the list.

And prayer gets answered. Sometimes it takes a while – an unbearably long while – but God listens.

I hope he doesn’t mind the listening, because he’s getting an earful today.

Love to you all.

His face was in the shadows, but I wasn’t about to move him! The foreground and back of his head are overexposed. In this picture, I’m happy with that.

My younger daughter has started calling him “Bungee.” I have no idea where she got this, but it’s sticking.

Bungee still has “stork bites” on his forehead, just above the bridge of his nose. None of my other kids’ stork bites have stayed this long. Although I hope he outgrows them someday, it’s nice to have that lingering marker of babyhood on my last baby. I’m still so amazed to have a “last baby,” to have a baby at all. I treasure it.

The camera settings…

I was exposing for his face, which was shadowed. To keep the ISO as low as possible (320) and avoid a grainy shot, I opened the aperture wide (f/2.5) and slowed the shutter as much as I dared (1/60). Then I rested my arms on the bed, held my breath, and snapped the shutter. The resulting picture is a confidence booster. One more manual shot, one step closer to conquering the camera.