We don’t follow a schedule every day. But even doing some of it every few days brings smiles to faces around here. I don’t know whether success should be measured in smiles, but that’s the way it happens here – not the fleeting “I just got a new truck” kind of smile, but the “I feel pretty good about what I can do and how people feel about me” smiles.

Our schedule is centered on stations, or locations around the house. A very ambitious, scheduled day looks like this:

Breakfast and Bible – We start the morning with breakfast, reading a Bible story and working on memory verses.
School Table – We move to the school table for several activities: 1) putting a new date on the calendar, 2) workbook pages, and 3) special toys (difficult puzzles, number games, etc.).

Sofa Time – This is a break for me, while I throw in another load of wash or run the dishwasher. They get to sit on the sofa and play with toys that have lots of small pieces, usually Playmobil.
Cleaning – They help me with chores: wiping windows with Windex, wiping cabinets with Clorox wipes, putting their clothes away in drawers.

Reading – I read a book to the kids that has to do with whatever topic we’re studying. Then they “read” a simple book to me from memory.
Easel – At this point, our time at the easel includes 1) phonics with magnet letters, 2) felt board stories or science charts, and 3) pocket chart exercises such as categorizing and story sequencing.
Large Motor – I send the kids onto the deck or let them ride bikes through the house (yes, they ride in the house…) while I change out laundry and make lunch.
Lunch and Memory – We work on nursery rhymes during lunch.
Cozy Down – This is cuddle time with songs and finger plays. This may be their favorite time. My daughter likes the “Here is the Hive” fingerplay as her fingers get to be the tickling bees. One, two, three, four, five! They’re alive! Bzzzz…

Naps – Aaaaah…. The end of the schedule.

Sometimes the order gets a little mixed up, or not everything happens. That’s ok. As long as they’re getting the basic rhythm of the day, they seem to feel like they’re being purposeful. When we’ve been away from the schedule for a while, it’s fun to watch their attitudes improve over the course of a few days as we get back into it. They even start being deliberately nice to each other. It’s amazing.

I think the key is that they feel loved and important. That makes sense. Those feelings tend to put a smile on my face, too.

I live among scrub oak, short pines, and rock on the side of a mountain at 7250 feet.

I know that the people who have lived here all their lives couldn’t be torn away from it kicking and screaming.

I also know you’re supposed to “bloom where you’re planted,” as the saying goes.

There’s no denying that this is one plant removed from its native soil, though. Some people, like plants, seem to be born for specific terrain – Julie for her cactus blossoms and mountain hikes, me for wide fields under endless sky.

Every time I drive back to the Midwest, I’m surprised by my response. I step out of the overcrowded van somewhere in Oklahoma, and the wind and humid air wrap around me like the two arms of a “welcome home” hug. When I explain this to most people, I don’t often get an understanding nod.

It might be because they’ve never truly seen how the sun sparkles through droplets on a million green blades of wheat against a vast spring-grey backdrop.

Ah… space. I can see horizon in every direction. How can a person not think of God with such an enormous view of His heavens?

I was formed from the earth of this place. All the pieces of me were aligned by the wind whipping through like fierce sand through a sieve, each piece sorting out and falling into place on struggling, straining walks along dirt roads.

And then comfort in abundance… Rich soil. Warm, humid air. Large, shady trees. Vibrant green grass in rolling lawns.

At one of the homes that we saw, I had forgotten shoes for my younger daughter. No worries. She took off running in the soft grass, happy as could be. My son, in his mud boots, raced as fast as he could down to the rambling creek to throw a stick into the water. They explored fallen remnants of last season’s neglected apple crop in an old, old orchard.

The house in this place wasn’t my favorite. But how can you say no to your kids being able to run as far and as fast as they want – no skinned knees when you fall, nothing to trip over except your own clumsy feet?

A small kid can’t run where we are, can’t even ride a bike.

Like a plant returned to native soil, I feel my roots reaching down and my leaves stretching up, every time I go back. I’m in my element, made from these elements in green and grey shades. This is home.

It is home partly because it is, for me, a window to another home, another space that lays claim to my formative elements. It is a big, big window. A whole vast sky of a window.

And it’s a million tiny windows, sparkles on blades of wheat, glow of sunset on stray bits of feed sack, lacy branches echoed on smooth creek surfaces.

Several years ago Julie introduced me to Ken Gire’s Windows of the Soul. The book’s premise is that we reach for God through the windows of art, nature, poetry. Meanwhile, God reaches for us, hoping our “windows” don’t block our view. It’s a good read now, as we look for the surroundings that will form our kids’ childhood years.

It’s a good read anytime… even here in the Southwest.

It reminds me that the sky that frames the mountains here is stretched with the same promise as the wide Kansas sky:

If we are willing to look, we will really see… God is there to be found all the time, in all places.

We live right by a mountain park in Phoenix, and I regularly hike the trails there. This is supposed to be wildflower season for us, and I thought I’d take my camera out and get a bunch of pictures. But with very little rainfall this winter–even by our desert standards–only the most faithful plants produced blooms. Still, they were lovely, and I thought I’d share this most precious place, where I go to think and to pray and to “see” God.

Flower from the creosote bush: Probably the most ubiquitous plant in the Sonoran Desert. It has a distinctive smell, especially noticeable in a rainstorm, and it always smells like “home” to me after we’ve been away.

As you can see, the bees love it. This huge old bumblebee scared me with his loud buzzing and erratic flight. I was delighted to have captured him in the photo at all.

This is a common sight on my walks: Certain types of cacti seem to “buddy up” with a shrub, or a small tree, and the two of them grow together. In this case, a desert wolfberry (I think) is paired with a young saguaro.

Kind of like a marriage: They start their life together, protecting and complementing one another as they grow, and they cannot be separated without severe damage to both of them. But left to grow together, they both just might reach their full glory:

This is a saguaro cactus, almost certainly more than a hundred years old, married to a palo verde tree.

The next one is scorpion weed. In good, rainy years it turns whole hillsides a hazy purple. I think it’s so named because the buds are inside a curled-up stem (and open as the stem uncurls) like a scorpion’s tail. Kind of makes you feel all cozy inside, doesn’t it? Scorpions are nasty, creepy things that hide in my laundry baskets, just waiting to give me goose bumps; they’re nothing like this pretty blossom. I hereby re-name it “fiddle-neck flower.”

I wish I could stick your noses in this brittlebush flower; it smells like…like…a spicy cookie, maybe. The shrub secretes a resin that we pick off and chew, like gum, and collect at Christmastime in place of frankincense and myrrh:

All my growing-up years, I kept cacti in pots in my bedroom. I loved them, loved their showy blossoms, and loved how they thrived under considerable neglect. They still grow in my parents’ greenhouse; Mom will call once in a while to tell me when they’re flowering.

Now I live in a cactus wonderland. I found this barrel cactus well off the trail…

…and slid down an embankment (not by choice) to get a close-up:

I think it was worth it. I could have stayed all day, just admiring its beauty.

I think this is a pincushion cactus. They’re everywhere, and always-faithful bloomers. I’ve seen squirrels eat the bright-red fruit.

Shortly after I began regularly hiking in the Sonoran Desert, I discovered a pretty orange flower, the desert mallow, a relative of the sweet little poppy mallow that grew all over our farm in Kansas. I loved it for its beauty, and picked some to put in a vase, just like I had done as a child in Kansas…and found I’d tangled with The Meanest Pollen in the West. So when I saw it in bloom as I neared home, I tried to take a very-careful-from-a-safe-distance photo…and ended up with an accidental self-portrait instead.

Hope you enjoyed our short hike. When you ask for prayer from me, (and some of you have) this is what you’re getting: me out here, in this harsh and aching beauty, freely pouring out my heart to a God who hears. And I’ve seen sweet, good, cactus-flower-in-the-spines sorts of answers to those prayers. Have you?

Mom, Debbie, Annie (and baby Gerber), and the kids all went to the city today for Wolfe house-hunting. We may have found a keeper!

Afterward, we headed to Annie’s for an amazing lunch at her wonderfully homey house. The kids tried their best to tear the place apart, but Annie was too quick for them and sent them outside, where they tested the running grounds for their cousin-to-come.

And, of course, they checked out the new additions to the Gerber homestead.

The story behind the calves: The second day that Drew moved into their new house, while Annie was still holding down the fort at their old house, Drew called to say that he “may or may not have just bought two bottle calves.” Instead of unpacking, which he had taken a week off work to do, he spent the majority of that Tuesday putting together stock panels and having the time of his life.

Annie attempted to act displeased, but she couldn’t be more thrilled to be the mama of two little “babies.”

Because of complications, the calves were separated from their mom at three days old. The seasoned farmers around the area told Drew that they wouldn’t live (weak, susceptible to disease, no colostrum). But thanks to lots of care and lots of prayer, the two baby cows are doing great.

For lunch, Annie fixed a Greek salad with tzatziki!

Meanwhile, Debbie helped by taking lots of pictures of Annie’s work the last few weeks in her new home.

Cool coffee tables, hey? Drew’s dad built those from an old gym floor. This one still has a stripe on it:

The house is full of old pieces of furniture with stories behind them.

It was a day that left our hearts and bellies full, faces happy, and minds thoughtful. The thought of the day is that “home” can be created wherever there is a desire to put down roots and grow.

Jack is NOT helping!

These last couple of days have been a lovely mix of great joy, finally working on my OWN HOME, and horrible impatience, going crazy waiting to see what all plants I have. So far, peonies and lilacs have shown themselves, along with an…

Apricot Tree!

By far, though, the most amazing find has been my precious tulips. Out by my wash-house, about 15 lovely pointed leaves poked out of the ground. I was so excited, but I was also confounded. The plants look new and uncrowded. MY MOTHER-IN-LAW PLANTED THEM FOR US IN NOVEMBER! We didn’t even know for sure that we would be able to get the house until February!

my daily reminder that I am loved

For gardening this week, I thought I would walk you through the very basics of container-gardening. I forced myself to only buy pansies and spinach this week, since they are freeze-tolerant. (Onions, turnips, carrots, potatoes, and beets also fall into this category, but I don’t have the space prepared for them this year.)

Planting my Pansies

First, the best soil for containers is potting soil, since it is mostly made up of moisture-retaining elements.

moisten potting soil

I always moisten the soil first, so that the exposed roots of my transplants don’t get dry and because the soil decreases in volume once it’s wet. Fill your containers with potting soil, but leave room, because you will displace some of the soil to make space for your transplants.

rough up roots

Once you begin to bring in your plants, gently pull apart (without breaking, if you can) the bottoms of the roots. The small packs they have been growing in have trained the roots to grow in crowded circles. Breaking them apart helps them get growing into new directions.

pinch off all flowers

Once your plants have been set into the soil and the soil has been packed in around them, pinch off all the existing flowers and buds. I know, I know, it is heartbreaking! Plants, however, once they begin flowering, put most of their energy into reproducing, aka, the flower/seed. Pinching the flowers off convinces the plant to put energy into the roots and leaves, making a healthier plants and thus, more flowers later.

water

Finally, give your new pot a good, plentiful watering. Because container plants do not get continuous nutrients from the earth, make sure that you fertilize them. Two good ways are to mix a low-concentration of Miracle-Grow and use that for every watering or to sprinkle on slow-dissolving fertilizer, so that it breaks down gradually. Then, enjoy your happy “babies.”

Have a lovely week everyone! I’m excited for next week, because I get to introduce you to Drew’s and my new adventure!

coming soon!

I hit a lull because I’m deciding what direction to take with future posts. More hair-pulling parenting moments? Photography tips that apply to any camera? Lighting and DSLR camera settings? Sewing and crafts? Homeschooling?

At times like these, I tend to make lists, brainstorming and prioritizing my ideas.

I can whittle away lots of time brainstorming and prioritizing. And organizing.

This time, though, it didn’t take much mulling to know where I should be focusing my time.

My priorities are God, husband, and kids. I think I’m keeping up ok in the first two areas, but not with my kids. When a responsibility of mine becomes an annoyance, it’s a sure sign that I’m not investing enough in it, or that I need to find a vastly different approach.

Or, sometimes, I just need to go back to an approach that has worked before, which is what I’ll do in this case.

Last March I developed an elaborate homeschool plan to train my three year olds to be brain surgeons. We were well on track – they were just learning how to separate folds of the brain – when life happened, the schedule fell to pieces, and there was no catching up.

I’m going to try the exact same schedule this year. The old schedule was very well planned, and the kids were enjoying it. (And really… neurosurgery is better tackled with another year of life under their belts anyway.)

I still want to keep up with learning about photography, though. I’ve debated whether to post the intricate details of my camera’s buttons and dials. And I’ve decided… I’m gonna go for it! Just not on Wednesdays. I’ll post camera stuff at random, and I’ll keep it in a separate spot so people can skip it or read it, whichever floats their boats. Separating the sections actually will allow me to continue learning, and more in depth.

My oldest daughter is my cohort in the crime of over-organizing (not always equated with staying organized). Yesterday she helped me get some new things set up.

I bought four wire bins at Target to hold each kid’s books, workbooks and other supplies. The baby won’t use his yet, but I’ve been at this parenting business just long enough to know that I may as well buy one for every kid. Time flies!

Each kid picked a piece of decorative paper, and we attached them with brads.

I had planned to have them write their names with a chic set of letter stickers, but my daughter had another idea when I wasn’t watching:

Parenting opportunity… Whose project is this, anyway?!

I’m leaving her choice of stickers. She’ll know whose bin it is.

I like these tags better than the masking tape I used last year on their larger school supply tubs.

The unattractive masking tape did serve its purpose – except when the kids decided to pull everything out by themselves. Maybe I should have let them label the boxes with their own stickers!

Learning to label stuff is a good thing.

People ask whether I’m going to homeschool, and I don’t know. I do know that with my twins at age almost-four, if we don’t do planned “school,” they make it up themselves. They simply can’t be stopped from learning, no matter what I do! 😉 Sometimes their version of learning involves scissors and hair. Things work out better if I guide them a little.

So… this post officially begins a “trial” year of homeschooling.

If we can keep up with the schedule this year, we may try a second year. If not, we’ll look into other school options. For now, we’re starting our school years in April, because that’s when the twins have their birthdays.

I’m excited about several future posts about what we’re tackling with school, maybe with a few fascinating facts thrown in about what I’m learning, too. And hopefully mixed in with parenting moments… which I will photograph… and possibly a couple crafts…

By the way, I’m not actually trying to teach my kids to be brain surgeons.

My motive for focusing on school at this age has much more to do with the heart than the brain. I want good relationships with my kids, and we feel close when we’re working on learning together.

Thanks for reading such a long post, thanks for hanging around while I figure some of these things out, and thanks for keeping me company again in the snow dusted mountains.