Summer sets in

Ah, Summer! Thanks be to God!

Summer break started officially last week, but with the family visiting and house cleaning and a couple days spent at school for meetings and to clean, the week speed by and felt like work. But now we are back to slow starts to the mornings and hot afternoons spent lazing in the pool.

Lots of emotions colored the last month. Our sixth child graduated from high school Memorial Day weekend. I think I was more emotional this time around because I know how rarely she'll be home from now on. When our oldest graduated, I was so excited for him. I loved college, and he was going to the same place. I had confidence in him, our steadiest child, bright, hardworking, so I wasn't too worried, although of course there were things to worry about - including hospitalization for a bad infection and surgery for a knee injury.  I also had a month-old infant at his high school graduation. My mothering days were restarting.  Six children were still at home, and I knew he would be back for holidays and the summer. 

What I didn't realize when we sent him off was how brief those visits home would be. And then there were summer jobs away. The second one was off right behind the first, and suddenly the flight from home seemed to be happening at waterfall pace. The stress of senior year and the emotions of saying goodbye only intensified with each child, rather than lessening. So now that this dear daughter has the spotlight, I have more emotions.  She was the baby so long. If it weren't for that child who was an infant at her brother's graduation 10 years ago, I would have an empty nest this fall.  Even her brother who is still in college won't be home long this summer - at the end of the week he leaves for Italy for a summer internship living with adults with disabilities in the L'Arche community and biking with them through the Dolomites. I'm more than a tiny bit wishful we could all go with him. 

So I'm relishing this brief moment when our days have a relaxing tempo. I cleaned out my closet with my daughter's help and recycled a big stack of old papers. I have a box full of papers still to sort and organize this summer.  I have a list of things I want to accomplish this summer. I'm doing an online class to finish a certification to for Catholic school teachers through Franciscan. I want to do more writing. I'm researching teacher certification programs.  

On that topic: I've committed to another year teaching middle school, but I miss teaching at the college and in adult education. I felt called to this current job, and I have relished the purposefulness of teaching younger students, the relationships with students and other teachers, the learning I had to do and was able to share. But it has not been an easy year. I was exhausted at the end of every day.  I was not especially good at classroom management, and the last couple of weeks I felt like I was floundering.  Even though I went into this with an attitude that I would try it for a year, I want to try again to improve. To quit after one year feels like ... quitting, being defeated.  In contrast, next year if I go back to teaching community college after two years of teaching younger students, it would feel more like a choice - as long as that option still exists.  What I am learning now about classroom management, about designing lesson plans that provide options for differentiated learning, about creating opportunities for participatory learning, about pivoting when something isn't working, are valuable lessons and experiences for teaching any level. 

But this post isn't supposed to be about teaching, although I want to try to write down some of what I learned for next year at some point this summer. 

Instead, I'll share some pictures that capture a slight bit of the delight of having the whole family together. One of the things that makes me happiest is filling up a pew at Mass with my favorite people. I love sharing the sign of peace, sharing communion, praying with and for these particular young adults.  I love that they have fun together and that they enjoy each other's company. Although I regularly complain about the size and upkeep of our house, I'm happy they want to come here and that there is space for them all to gather and hang out. The weekend began with my birthday, which we celebrated with a hike and a baccalaureate Mass and dinner out at a Thai restaurant, and then we celebrated the high school graduation the next day. Some aunts and an uncle and cousins came down from OKC. My parents went to my nephew's graduation and then made their way here for the rest of the weekend.  We ate well and laughed a lot and enjoyed each other's company.  They made their sister feel loved and congratulated and made their mom feel full of love and gratitude. 

Here is a huge photo dump in reverse order:

Produce from my tiny garden - a little more this year because I started earlier and it is not as hot yet as last year.

A visit to the Veterans park for Memorial Day and our anniversary and a game of pickleball at the courts there.

My mom and I at the Austin Nature Center

Nature center time with the grandparents.

Night swimming

Splash contests

The sisters

The brothers

The proud parents

The cheering squad!

The graduate

The party with cousins

Before the Baccalaureate Mass

Birthday hike at St. Edwards Park

Swimming in Bull Creek

My sister-in-law capturing some of the wildlife

Senior skirt day - the girls decorate their uniforms with their college colors - Furman University in Greenville, SC

A deer spotted on our Mother's Day trip to Blue Hole in Wimberly, TX

More swimming hole fun. Quintessential central Texas summer activity

Modelling the cap and gown

Sunday Mass with the whole clan

Oldest and youngest

Swim team season has begun!

Lists: An April Summary at the end of May - and a May lookback

Although April is far in the review mirror, here is a list of some things that happened in that busy month: 

In April, we 

• Celebrated Easter in Oklahoma City with grandparents and cousins
• Traveled to South Bend to visit son and visited with friends in Chicago
• Celebrated a 10th birthday while watching an eclipse
• Celebrated a 51st birthday
• Marked - sort of - the dog's 4th birthday
• Went to 4 track meets
• Went "backpacking" with 3 ten year olds to celebrate a birthday
• Had a couple friends visit from out of town
• Went to Mass, school, the library, some shopping.
• Minimal reading
• Considered life changes

May was equally full. We

• Celebrated the last state track meet of our high school senior who finished the season with a gold medal in the 800m and a silver in the 4 x400 relay. She ran the 400, but didn't place.
• Celebrated Mother's Day with a trip to a state park swimming hole with friends.
• Graded over 100 papers = 2 rough drafts, final copy and a couple short assignments. 
• Tried to get 7th and 8th graders to read plays and perform for their classmates
• Went to 3 swim meets
• Went to the 8th grade graduation
• Managed all of the end of the year kerfuffle with extra hubbub for the high school senior
• Welcomed all of our kids and 2 sets of cousins for a high school graduation + a few outings with the visitors and a Memorial day celebration
• Attended a few graduation parties
• Made a couple major life decisions
• Slept very little
• Read very little
• Exercised very little
• Had to go to confession
• Appreciated Mass 
• Appreciated wildflowers
• Appreciated swimming holes and pools

This list is not comprehensive. It's just to remind myself how the days slip away, and yet we have wonderful memories to revisit. I was meaning to write a reflective post, but I couldn't quite decide what to reflect upon. Now that the summer looms invitingly ahead with only minimal activities scheduled, I look forward to more time to simply daydream and sleep. 

A visit to Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler's

About a month ago, my middle school classes finished novel units. Eighth graders read The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. Not my favorite Holocaust book, but easy to read in class because of short chapters and lots of resources online. We then read a dramatized version of the Diary of Ann Frank, and a speech by Elie Wiesel given at the 50th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. I wanted to assign excerpts from Night and Man's Search for Meaning, but ran out of time. I would have liked to do The Book Thief, but they'll read that in high school, and I thought The Hiding Place might be too long. 

Meanwhile, the 7th graders read From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. I thought I might decorate the room with art from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but that didn't happen. I have yet to decorate a part of the room with a book's theme. If I stick with this next year, I might get around to that.

Konigsburg's book is another easy read, but Mrs. Frankweiler has some wise things to say.  I wanted the students to focus on the theme that worth/value aren't always tied to monetary values, although it's easier for students to identify a theme of "family" (or maybe "family is important") or "secrets" (rather than "having a secret or mystery to solve gives us a sense of purpose") Clearly, we have more work to do to learn how to talk about theme. It's a hard element to teach because it is so difficult to articulate. Here is where my inexperience as a teacher is clear - teaching theme and classroom management...

At any rate, I remembered loving Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler as a preteen and, because of it, wanting to live in a museum, or at least visit the Met, but I had forgotten how wise some of the advice is. One of my favorite quotes is what Mrs. Frankweiler says to Claudia: 

“I think you should learn, of course, and some days you must learn a great deal. But you should also have days when you allow what is already in you to swell up inside of you until it touches everything. And you can feel it inside of you. If you never take time out to let that happen, then you accumulate facts, and they begin to rattle around inside of you. You can make noise with them, but never really feel anything with them. It’s hollow."

I think I feel this way not infrequently these days. We take in a lot of information. Eventually it becomes numbing. I don't feel anything when I read the paper about wars and elections and protests. I still am irritated when I read about the race to develop new AIs by every tech whosit, all of which require obscene amounts of energy to power the data processing centers. What sense does it make to avoid using straws when these tech genius companies are building equipment that uses the equivalent amount of energy of thousands of homes a day - in the name of what improvement? AI may save time on some repetitive tasks, but the end result is a devaluation of human life and dignity. 

Tangent there. I meant to comment instead how reading TOO much can lead to decision/action paralysis. When we have too many options, we no long know what to do. How do we make decisions about how to live life? In a related quote, Claudia reflects on how we should let life/vacations teach us something. It's these experiences and the memories and lessons we hold on to that make us who we are -that make us valuable to ourselves. They help us know what we value. 

“The adventure is over. Everything gets over, and nothing is ever enough. Except the part you carry with you. It's the same as going on a vacation. Some people spend all their time on a vacation taking pictures so that when they get home they can show their friends evidence that they had a good time. They don't pause to let the vacation enter inside of them and take that home.”

At any rate, another thing I love about this book is the sibling relationships.  Claudia and Jamie's sibling relationship really develops beautifully throughout the story. By sharing in such a memorable experience, they forge bonds and a collective memory that cements their relationship. Instead of being people who share a roof while they go about their individual pursuits, they become collaborators whose strengths complement each other. Claudia is the idea person. She dreams big and makes plans, although she is bad about saving money. However, Jamie, even though he isn't as good at planning ahead, is good at saving his dimes and nickels. He is frugral where Claudia loves her little luxuries. Together they are able to survive for a week on their own by budgeting for travel, food, and even laundry. Finding change in the fountain helps them subsist a little longer. 

“What happened was: they became a team, a family of two. There had been times before they ran away when they acted like a team, but those were very different from feeling like a team. Becoming a team didn't mean the end of their arguments. But it did mean that the arguments became a part of the adventure, became discussions not threats. To an outsider the arguments would appear to be the same because feeling like part of a team is something that happens invisibly. You might call it caring. You could even call it love. And it is very rarely, indeed, that it happens to two people at the same time-- especially a brother and a sister who had always spent more time with activities than they had with each other.”

That was pretty astonishing to my students, some of whom are afraid to walk across the street by themselves (maybe exaggerating there...). I see excessive caution in my own kids - partly because I was afraid to let them roam out of fear of being turned in by the neighbors, as well as the bad guys we all hear too much about.

The book makes it clear that we need one another.  Claudia knows she doesn't have enough money to run away by herself; she never really admits she would be lonely. But as the book goes on, it is clear that the adventure is better because it is shared. The siblings help each other avoid being caught, and they feed off each other's ideas while learning about Egyptian art and European decorative arts, like the big Renaissance era bed where they sleep. Their discovery of an angel statue that might be the work of Michaelangelo leads them on an adventure to discover its true providence, doing research at a library, and finally making their way to Mrs. Frankweiler's country estate to confront her, since she is the one who put the statue up to auction. 

Mrs. Frankweiler makes them work for the answer, and in the process, they discover the truth about the statue. However, Mrs. Frankweiler convinces them that sometimes it is better to have a secret than to share all you know with the whole world.

This is a valuable perspective in today's show and tell all culture. People want to be known and loved, but Konigsburg's book illustrates how important it is to have confidence that you are worthy of being loved whether or not you receive public admiration. Claudia ran away because she was unappreciated at home, but her escapade does not teach her family to appreciate her more. What it teaches her is that she doesn't need appreciation to know she is valuable as a human being. She learns to be independent, to value learning, to value beauty, and to work collaboratively, as well. She finds worth in appreciating what she knows and what she is capable of learning. She realizes that the value of something is not necessarily the price tag or public adulation, but the value is related to the appreciation of one person. Claudia loves the statue because it is beautiful, and it speaks to her for some inexplicable reason. Learning more about it cause her to learn more about herself and her potential.

“Angel" became part of Claudia's story about finding herself, about how the greatest adventure lies not in running away but in looking inside, and the greatest discovery is not in finding out who made a statue but in finding out what makes you.”

I'm not sure all this came through to the 7th graders, but we did talk quite a bit about value and worth - they liked try to calculate costs in today's dollars.  They appreciated that the two did so much with so little and that they were so responsible. And hopefully, just a smidge of that idea that you don't the world's approval to know you are worthy will stick with them.

https://cahughesbookreviews.com/2023/07/29/book-review-from-the-mixed-up-files-of-mrs-basil-e-frankweiler-by-e-l-konigsburg/

Sprinting through Spring

 Ah April! 

Really, the poets who call it cruel are being paradoxical, right? It's hard to be unhappy this time of year. I've been rereading Anne of Green Gables with the youngest, and I tend to agree with Anne that it is difficult to be sad or lonely this time of year when everything is fresh and green and blooming. My garden looks better than ever after some soaking rains and a good dose of fertilizer. The echinacea returned, the daisies are flourishing, the impatiens have filled out - they'll last until the first long stretch of heat, but so far we have escaped that. My raised bed has been consumed by slugs, so I need to replant some peppers and lettuces, but I have a happy rosemary bush and new growth on the oregano.

Although there are many things, like battling weeds and missing my kids and friends, that I could dwell in self-pity for - and have, during the winter -  the spring season and wildflowers blooming makes it easier to bear now. I did miss my young adults for Easter, but I was happy for them that they were able to enjoy each other's company and tease me about their gifts. The candy arrive late and melted, squished into mailing boxes that were too small and smashed. Apparently, Nana had enough sweets to satisfy a small army, so no one felt the loss of the Haribos and Swedish Fish and peach rings and all the other terrible artificial stuff they love. I never did find Cadbury mini eggs or even regular Cadbury eggs. I never found all black Brach's jelly beans or chocolate marshmellow eggs or bunnies. What is going on in the candy world? Or is it just the stores near us? 

What we did find is a way to celebrate Easter with the other side of the family. After an exciting day at the track and a good visit with all the track friends, a day marked by PR's in the 4x400 and 4x200, we went to the Vigil Mass. There was enough time to shower and relax and to mark a shift in attitude and arrive in plenty of time for the Easter fire. We had 10 catechumens, so the vigil lasted over 3 hours, but it was beautiful and celebratory; the trumpets fanfared, the lillies perfumed, the candles lit the darkness and melted wax on the pews in front of us. The alleluias echoed joyously.  The Easter vigil really is the culmination of months of preparation and reminds us of the cyclical way that we die and rise many times over throughout our lives. 

This is what I have felt the last couple of weeks - a resurrection of sorts after a gloomy winter. Maybe it's hormonal, maybe it's grace. I like to trust it to the second - how else to survive the first!

 After the vigil we feasted - my husband on a piece of meat, me on champagne, the girls on the failed carrot cake. Then we went to bed and rose a few hours later to drive several hours to see the grandparents in OKC. We decided an Easter with family was well worth a short night of sleep and a moderately long car ride - really less than 6 hours. Two sets of cousins - the ones around our youngest's age - came over, and we had an Easter egg hunt in which 10 kids made short work of 250 eggs.  They blew bubbles, colored with chalk, and played ball in the yard, before feasting on the traditional Easter feast - ham, asparagus, salad, potatoes, rolls, etc. No jello salad this year. Lemon bars and carrot cake and candy and ice cream satisfied everyone's sweet tooth. We sat around and talked, did some yard work cutting up limbs that came down in a storm, and bottle fed kittens my sister-in-law had rescued from a litter left in her garden shed.  The kids played and ate candy, and somehow the afternoon passed quickly. We didn't linger long after breakfast the next day, but the visit was long enough to share some hugs with the grandparents and make a memory with the cousins.

It also was long enough to remind my own two kids left at home that they are part of a family bigger than they sometimes realize. They have people who care about them and people they need to care for. A constant goal of parenting while living an itinerant life has been to give my kids a sense of rootedness in their membership in an extended family, a family they may find awkward or annoying, but a family that is there for them in difficulty and in celebration. I'm happy some of those efforts have been fruitful with the older kids who now choose the company of their grandparents and cousins without me forcing it. A real Easter gift.. 

High Holy Days

We are in the silence of Good Friday.  The Holy Thursday Mass last night capped a week of ups and downs. Our Easter celebration may be subdued this year because our kids will be with their grandparents, as I wrote in the post a couple weeks ago. We are still not sure of what our Easter will look like since we are waiting to see how Saturday plays out. 

I have done little preparation for Easter, other than some last minute desperation ordering of a few books and candy to be sent to the older kids. The Easter baskets will not be brimful this year. Honestly, I don't know why I'm buying candy for my 20somethings, but I'll keep doing it. I do little enough for them since they are all far aaway. 

Life doesn't stay still. Doors open, doors close. 

Two weeks ago, we were in Virginia Beach for a track meet and were able to revisit places that have become mythic in our memory. In some ways they have changed, but in others, I was happy to see my memory hadn't changed much, especially in regard to the friends with whom I was able to reconnect, even at the last minute. Some of our friends from that time in life have moved because of jobs or they were military like us; others I have lost track of. But it was wonderful to reconnect with those who are still there. We grabbed pizza with military friends, then walked our old neighborhood while enjoying ice cream cones with a neighbor who was our adopted grandmother. The next day we sat down for coffee with dear friends from my book group, and I was able to take a long walk with another dear friend - one of those walks where you go farther than you thought because you lose track of where you are because the conversation never slows.   Our conversations moved from updates on our families to revisiting memories, to sharing the challenges and hopes we have now.  Again, I am reminded of the goodness of people and of the world. 

I would like to reflect more on this weekend, but despite the day's solemnity, I have to move on to the next thing now, but here are some photos of our few days staying beachside and the homes where we began and grew our family. 

This was the third house we ever lived in, although the first two places were just six months each. We actually only lived in a quarter of this house. It was divided into four apartments, and we had the bottom left as you look at the house. We never really got to know the other people who lived here. Our second child was born here. 

When the owner of that big house decided to sell it, we moved to this house. This time we had a third of the house, the entire first floor.  We stayed longer here, about two years, and knew all the neighbors and loved them. This is where our third child was born, and we have lots of memories - the sloping floors, losing power for days after a hurricane, playing on the sidewalks with the neighbor kids for hours, freezing in the winter because the heat was expensive, gardening, visiting the park, story times, hosting dinners... 

This was our third house in the area, but our 8th address. We bought this house after being gone a few years and then coming back. Our sixth child was born here. More wonderful neighbors. More treasured memories. I planted that camellia that needs a trim. I also had planted a sweet olive tree by the door that must have died. We mowed the lawn with a push mower.  We had a tiny office in the back where I home schooled the kids, supposedly, but most of the work happened at the table or on the couch under that front window where we read and read and read.

The fairy garden in the crook of the tree in front of our neighbors - she and the neighbor kids add to the tableau. The mailman left the little mail truck.

Looking toward where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Chesapeake Bay.

Virginia Beach, north end

Camellias in bloom

The view from the greenbelt behind our fence.

Blue bonnets are early this year. You can see why they are so beloved when they carpet the roadsides and parks. 

Whither thou goest, February?

At the start of the year, I thought I might do more reflective writing in this space, and for about three weeks, that was the case. Then time blew February through the doors of the past like the dead leaves of the live oaks that are just now being shed as the new leaves push out the old growth to be blown away. 

February began, as it always does, with the birthday of our third son. It included a trip to Indiana for a family meeting with my siblings, and it ended with a camping trip with my daughter's scout troop. Some soccer and track were sprinkled in.  We hosted a Mardi Gras party/fundraiser for our daughter's Leukemia and Lymphoma Society fundraising campaign which ended with a gala the third weekend of February.  Then Lent began quietly on Valentine's Day, which we talked about celebrating the day before, but we did nothing extraodinary except eat meat and sweets to get them out of the house.

 

February Track Season begins

I have been guilty of acedia this Lent - I haven't eaten meat, but I am not tempted by it. I have eaten sweets on Sundays and sampled some brownies and crumb cake that I made for others - had to make sure they were fit for consumption - so I haven't really craved them other times. And I told myself I was giving up wine and alcohol, also, but I have not said no to a glass of wine here and there at social events. As far as growing closer to Christ through prayer and giving alms, my attempts have been pathetic. On the positive side, I renewed my efforts to finish the Catechism in a Year with Fr. Mike begun last year - only 80 more days to go.  I made it to confession, and I took a wonderful walk in the woods that renewed my spirits and gratitude for the gifts we have. But my prayer life has never been drier. Much like the dead wood I've been cleaning up around the yard this week during spring break, I feel brittle, dessicated, barren. 

That virtue of gratitude does not come easy to me.  One other thing I thought I would try to do for Lent at which I've failed miserably is to cease my complaining about living here and to counter those negative thougths with renewed attempts to journal at the end of the day about the positive things that happened or moments of beauty, thanksgiving, connection. Just writing this reminds me to pick up what I set down a couple weeks ago when grading and communicating with parents increased at the end of the quarter. While I may not be vocalizing my desire to upend our lives to my husband as much this month, it is still ever-present in my thoughts. Two of our neighbors put their houses up for sale in February, and at least one of them has said they have only had one showing since their home has been on the market. This terrifies me. 

Indecision and rootlessness continue to plague me, as well. I have to commit soon either to returning to the middle school or to trying to pick up the classes I had last year at the community college and the other small college where I was teaching. I have enjoyed the day to day interactions with the middle school students. I have hated the grading and paper work and the late nights that steal my sleep as a result of falling behind on those two chores. I like the convenience of teaching where my daughter goes to school and the interactions with the community and the ability to go to Mass an extra day a week. I miss the material I used to teach and the planning of those courses and the interactions with college students. Every day I question how I am spending my days. Are the hours worthwhile? Are tah

This waffling about purpose was not a weakness of St. Francis Cabrini.  Last weekend we went to see the movie Cabrini with friends followed by dinner out with them. We all commented on St. Francis Cabrini's sense of purpose and passion. The movie downplays her religious motivation, but it celebrates her devotion to her orphan children and her determination. Perhaps that is what I should pray for this Lent. And give to organizations that help orphans. Honestly, the movie made me think about foster care again. As my work as a mother has grown less time consuming, if not less heart and head consuming, I have struggled with the best way to fill that time. 

Meanwhile, all of my adult children are convening at my mother and father's for Easter.  I'm full of envy and woe that we are not planning to go.  Our daughter who is a senior is supposed to be running in the Texas Relays on Good Friday and Holy Saturday. Half of me wants to boycott the meet for being held on these holy days. If it weren't a relay race that involves other people's children, I would. Another part of me wants to allow my adult children to have their grandparents' love and attention without me there to interject my own need for attention from both generations and to celebrate their desire to spend time with their grandparents and each other.  And really, I'm selfish about time with my own parents, while we should get together with my husband's family. All of our adult children will be here at the end of May for their sister's graduation, but I'm full of self-pity from missing out on the Easter celebration. 

February in Indiana

Ft. Packer State Park

One solution is to be more intentional about planning our travel instead of being so last minute about it. I could be tempted to become a nomad, detach from all our worldly goods, and pack just essentials into a van in which to wander from house to house of those we love. Would they get tired of always providing hospitality to someone who doesn't reciprocate? Perhaps the solution is to find a place to put down roots where everyone wants to come to us. That's my Eldorado - the perfect place. 

 

This is rambling and navel gazing, but in the interest of recording something of life, here it is...

Gala going