the weary world rejoices

I missed my children's chirstmas pageant.

there is a six day old baby in my house and I have not held her one time.

my parents were in town and I saw them for less than an hour.

no pottery open house for me last weekend.

my fever finally broke yesterday after holding steady in the 101 range for four days. my eyes are still a puffy swollen mess, but my throat doesn't hurt so much anymore. jamin seemed better this morning after two days of earache. he's missed more days of school in december than he's attended. and eric is the champion holding us all together.

did I mention I started my period in the middle of all this? tmi, you say? yeah, that's what I said, too.

last year's advent was a beautiful time. I was in a slump after coming home from camp and a season of waiting, of quiet anticipation was just what I needed. we lit candles, we sang songs, and that was enough. we got through the darkness. it is always my intention to make our december calendars full of empty squares, leaving lots of room for savoring the season. nothingness is always my priority in advent time so I have lots of time for reflection, for whatever happens to come up, for waiting.

this year, advent has yet to make it into my consciousness. there was a baby to get birthed, new friends to invest in, out-of-town company to entertain. thanksgiving was late which made advent seem early. someone always needed something. there were school projects and stocking lists and darn it, we still haven't put up a tree. we put up lights on the house, but they're the wrong ones, and I think we've only turned them on twice. so because I wouldn't pay attention to advent, because I wouldn't give pause for the holy, my body went on strike.

the passages we read from isaiah this time for year talk a lot about the people walking in darkness. the people walking in darkness don't know they are getting it wrong because they can't see what they're doing. people walking in darkness very rarely get things to turn out the way they want, but they can't see the end result anyway. people in darkness keep plugging away, hoping for the best, never being quite sure if they've made it or not. but. only people in darkness can truly see that great light. it is the contrast that makes it so miraculous.

so maybe only the weary can truly rejoice. maybe it takes three days in bed to humble oneself enough to ask for help so that the joyous work of advent can truly take place. maybe mandatory stillness really is required. and maybe sometimes if we can't see the contrast, it has to be made stronger for us, strong enough to get our full attention.

I am rejoicing in the midst of my weariness today. when I emailed my tribe to ask for help for our family yesterday, boy did they rally. I went to bed last night with my head on a brand new pillow, my belly full of homemade goodness, my body warm from wood chopped by friends, and my heart filled with good wishes and kindness. advent is not over. there is still time to anticipate the coming light. I haven't missed it all together. and my biggest rejoicing moment today? halfway through writing this post, a weary rabbit slipped a precious baby into my arms. I finished my writing with kitra in a sling on my chest. my first chance to hold this girl has lasted well over an hour. the weary world rejoices, indeed.

redbud's little free library

today is my half birthday. it's kind of cool to have a point of reflection in such an opposite time of year than my real birthday. I can look out the window down into the chicken pen and see such a different scene than I might have viewed from this same window in june. my family, never wanting to miss a chance to celebrate something, has sent me into my bedroom with the door closed so I can write all by myself in honor of this half-year mini-milestone. I'll take it.

for my birthday this year eric had a secret building project. he and rabbit had private consultations at the computer, looking up designs for something I wasn't allowed to see. jamin was eager to swing a hammer, and cora was eager to smile sweetly and tell me I was going to love it so much. this mystery project wasn't finished in time for my birthday last june, but that was just fine by me. it meant I got to help with all the finishing touches and decide where my little free library's final resting place would be. the best sort of birthday present, really: handmade, perfectly matched to what I love most, and I got to help in the end. my family is the best.

I really love to read. I'm not even all that picky about what I read, either. I am just as likely to spend my time reading billy collins aloud to eric while he cooks supper as I am to read cheeky internet articles on the top ten ways to save my marriage (even when my marriage is really in no need of saving). I love memoirs and novels, cookbooks and political manifestos. I read instruction manuals for appliances we don't even own. I read every bit of the newspaper, even things I don't really care much about like personal ads and those weird articles the TTimes publishes about how seniors can avoid being hacked online. I can't help it. reading is just what I do.

eric knows this about me all too well. and once I stumbled upon a little free library in orlando, I couldn't stop thinking about it. free books??? a community-building opportunity centered around reading??? it was almost too much for my heart to handle. all the things I love, all the things I feel most passionate about all rolled into one. so, my darling husband built one for me.

it's not like we live in a super high-traffic neighborhood with lots of room for book turnover. not too many people will stumble upon our little library the way I was overjoyed to find my first one in orlando. (on campus at rollins college, by the way. I snagged some john irving and swooned.) but we do have a neighborhood full of book lovers, serious readers (and writers) and parents raising their kids to be the same. and redbud springs gets some high quality visitors on a regular basis, people who might very well swoon at the sight of free books for the taking. these visitors are the sort that will come back with their own books to offer as well I think. bibliophiles attract other bibliophiles. it's just a fact of life.

so here we are six months after I turned 34, and my free little library is open for business. jamin and cora were so eager to dedicate the lower shelf for "kid stuff" and stack up old magazines and books they were ready to pass along. someone in the neighborhood already left an ann patchett novel I haven't read, and I promise to put it back for the next person as soon as I am done. I love this secret trade box we have, how it is saving money and reducing waste and making me so happy all at the same time. and you (yes you!) are invited to check it out the next time you visit. or better yet, pick eric's brain for building plans for one of your own. I am already scoping out the best place in town for our next installment. there is no such thing as too many books, especially when they are free.

we gather together

this year for thanksgiving our guest list kept growing and growing. eric would run into someone who didn't have plans, I'd invite another neighbor I hadn't seen in a while, those friends would invite another friend who didn't have plans. this explosive inviting is hardly uncommon at mudflower. rabbit just rolls her eyes at me mostly. but this year was different because our wonderful friends lindsay and travis offered the use of their summer house while they are in florida for the winter. here's my thank you to them and to everyone else who joined our family to give thanks this year.

travis and lindsay,

I know it is hard to believe, reading this in sunny south florida, but we woke up to snow flurries thanksgiving morning. no accumulation, nothing to get too excited about, but I couldn't help thinking how different your thanksgiving was probably starting out. there were socks involved in ours, just for instance, and we built a fire in your fireplace first thing. I can't imagine thanksgiving without either one, actually.

you hosted twenty-two people for thanksgiving this year. people came from as far as connecticut and as close as just down seeoff mountain road. we covered the gamut in professions (a chef, a couple of farmers, some graphic designers, a school guidance counselor, theologians, authors, a former auto mechanic, and a first grade teacher, just to name a few). we covered a wide age range, too: in utero all the way to 87. we had people present who have wikipedia entries in their names and people haven't had a "real" job in years and couldn't be happier about it. a whole spectrum of people living a wide spectrum of lives, but, boy we had a really great time.

jamin and cora were so thrilled to be in your house. it was comforting to them to have a place so familiar, even if the season for visiting was all wrong. cora knew just where to find annie's playmobil babies and jamin made a beeline for the games cabinet. they were the ones to show people where the bathroom is, to offer the view of the lake from the deck, to explain your collection of heart-shaped rocks on the back porch. jamin settled right in to a settlers of catan marathon, eager to play after a three month break from this summer. somehow they ended up being the only people present under ten, but they didn't seem to mind at all. we were at coopercameronandannie's house! everything else was just details.

I could hardly wait to introduce people to each other. we had farming friends visiting from new england, and I was super eager to show them the community we have fostered here. there were two alison (allyson) cheeks in the house that had never met each other. there were representatives from non-profits across the county that needed to get to know each other. we had artists that needed to compare notes and a landlord that needed to find housing for someone looking to move to the area and people passionate about community and how to make it stronger that needed to cheer each other on. listening to the conversations buzzing around your living room, so many that I wanted to jump into and be a part of, so many people I love getting to know other people I love, made my heart full enough to burst. it wasn't the only time I wished you were there with me.

and the food! we have managed to surround ourselves with people that not only love and appreciate good food, but that are also quite talented at preparing and presenting it. jason (our chef friend from connecticut) handled the turkey and fixings. it was a bird from busy bee farm and she was a beauty (if you are into that sort of thing, anyway). stephanie (eric's farm friend from new england) brought her own turnips and made this amazing appetizer-y thing that involved pomegranate seeds and goat cheese. rabbit made stuffing with dried cranberries and cashews. nancy made a mystery pie, later revealed to be parsnip. parsnip! there's no way I can tell you everything we had, but suffice it to say there was plenty of it and it was delicious.

I never take enough pictures and thanksgiving was no exception. there are a few of the spread and of eric's plate of leftovers, my children choosing their dessert and people fixing their plates. but how could I capture the magic of that room, the laughter in the glow of the fire, the laid-back feeling that everyone seemed to have? there was no cliched scramble to get things made at this gathering, no stress of who to sit next to whom at the table. we sat where we wanted, we ate as we felt like it, and we gabbed with whoever was nearest. the circle we made just before the serving line started took up the entire living room and kitchen. we held hands, connected ourselves to each other, and connected each other to that moment. it was powerful stuff.

after eating there was football in the front driveway (we need to loan you our ball pump next time you are up here), a walk down to the lake, more settlers of catan (my boy might be a touch obsessed at this point), and everyone took a turn listing what they were thankful for on leaves cora and I had cut out earlier in the week. those leaves are works of art, prayers of gratitude, reminders of what matters. I plan to use them as part of our holiday decorating tradition for years to come.




















people stayed til 930 or so before we finally called it a night. eric and andrew had their annual arm wrestling competition (it is just as giggly as it is macho, rest assured) and the final toast of the night was not with the last of the wine or a good ol' sammy smith's cider, but with crackers topped with tiny dab of mika's ghost pepper relish. the perfect way to end a perfect feast day.

the only thing that could have made the day better was having your family right there with us, and I mean that most sincerely. you would have loved this gathering, the laid-back feel to it, this particular grouping of people, all this happy relaxation in your home. so start planning your visit for next thanksgiving now. I'll be watching for sales on socks for you.

love in all the thankfullest of ways,

wendy