Leila Marie Lawler's Blog, page 66

Ask Auntie Leila: Setting up Housekeeping, Building a Home

 

This is an emergency Ask Auntie Leila because the young lady who asked me the question is getting married in two weeks (I guess by now it’s one!) and she’s feeling overwhelmed.

Here’s the question:

“I love all of your practical housekeeping, cooking… etc. posts. What advice would you give to a young bride who is just setting up house and figuring it all out?”

Me: “Um, could you be more specific? Because as of now the answer is “read the whole blog”!

Her (we’ll call her Happy but a Little Overwhelmed, as she wishes to remain Anonymous): “Haha! I supposed I was a little vague. I guess more specifically, how to organize a new house and new things that are obtained from that registry (I did read that post and thought it was wonderful), how to set up housekeeping and what to do to keep it all running smoothly? What you wish you had known when you were young and just setting up house. Not married yet… but two weeks from today I will be, and feeling a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of having to make some many decisions about how things will be done! My mother was never the best at keeping house, so I don’t have her example to follow.”

Got it.

Here’s a version of my response that is not “Read the blog and also wait for my coming book that collects and organizes all my thoughts on that which ought to be normal and obvious, but which is instead forgotten or overcomplicated, not that I’m an expert, far from it, I just like telling people what to do.”

I will attempt to be, if not brief, at least pithy. This answer is doing what I usually try not to do, which is dump everything in at once. But rather than go over it all again, bit by bit, which takes about seven years, apparently, I thought it might be helpful if you haven’t been reading all this time to know that there’s a lot here already.

So, lots of links to other posts. You will be thrilled to hear that I have finally figured out the (simple) way to have them open in a new tab (thanks to Rosie telling me). So grab a glass of iced tea and prepare to open tabs!

So here goes:

1. Enjoy the honeymoon! Don’t worry, you are already far, far ahead of the game just by identifying the need to set up housekeeping and indeed be the arbiter of how your house is kept.

In fact, since it takes most of us at least a decade or two to figure out that there is anything to be identified, let alone that we are the subject of this identification, you can take some time off while patting yourself on the back.

Good job.

Spend this little reprieve doing a couple of things, things with which I will continue this list.

 

2. As soon as you get home — yes, your new home! — make your bed with the pretty sheets and bedding you received as gifts. If you can possibly wash the sheets first, do, but if not, don’t worry, just do it soon. Remember, your bedroom is the sanctuary. So this is your first lesson in housekeeping. Do this and the rest will fall into place (especially as you peruse those posts). Put a pretty tablecloth on the table and make a nice supper. Rosie explains this process of getting yourself settled (even if the circumstances are tricky) in this post about temporary living and this follow-up one.

I feel like if she can do it as a Marine wife moving around all the time in the first seven months of her marriage, who can’t? The key is making things pretty! Don’t worry as much about organizing. Focus on pretty — at first in your bedroom and at the table. If you can put some things up on the walls, do it.

3. As you open your gifts, consider returning the items that don’t make your heart go pit-a-pat, even if they are things you yourself registered for. Deirdre’s Registry post will give you food for thought, and there’s no shame in realizing that perhaps for some of the items you might have succumbed to a combination of enthusiasm for getting all the stuff, inexperience about what is truly helpful for you in your circumstances, and the store’s capitalization on those two states of mind.

So, I’m not talking about making rash determinations on unusual gifts. Sometimes it takes time to assimilate those unique items, sometimes they fit a need or desire you don’t yet know you have but the giver is more experienced, and often they are not returnable in any case. (We talked about this at length amongst ourselves as Deirdre was writing her post, and the conversation continues in the excellent comments.)

Mainly, before you completely open every box after unwrapping, be honest about whether the things will fit in your new home (which I will proceed to assume is going to be modest and small, in the approved newlywed mode). And don’t worry if you decide to return some things. The gift was given for one reason: To make you happy. You might get, instead, something different or scaled down  — for instance, three of the 12 pots and pans in the set, which are bound to be sold separately back at the store, until such time as you actually have a baseball-team number of children — at which point you don’t need three sizes of sauce pot, you need one 20-quart Dutch oven. If that makes you happy, the gift-giver will be happy. Were they aware. Which they will not be.

Another way to say “makes your heart go pit-a-pat” is this quote which you probably have already seen, from William Morris: “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.”

 

 

4. Ponder the things you have each brought into the house from your previous lives apart as you find places for them. Again, don’t do anything rash, but just ask yourself if you have done what so many of us do, which is simply move things because they are things and moving is what you are doing. That box of t-shirts from high school? The collection of souvenir mugs from basketball venues? Just don’t put them too far back in the closet. Here’s how to finally clean and organize anything.

5. Have lots of conversations about your future together and how you want it to be. Talk about what you really love about homes you have experienced. Get to know each other’s hopes and dreams. Don’t let people’s exhortations and misplaced urgency about you enjoying your newlywed state rob you of this enjoyment. Yes, You Only Live Once. Yes, there are lots of fun things to do as newlyweds. Yes, you may someday find yourself owning two minivans and incapable of thinking beyond the three travel soccer games you have coming up this weekend.

But still, the real fun of this period in your life is hoping and dreaming. Do what you want to do to get ready for your future — not what other people deem appropriate for putting off that future.

In the course of these wonderful talks, maybe use some of the time to set priorities, especially about how you will spend your money. Housekeeping is all about living well, within your means, and using your resources with wisdom, to achieve your goals.

I wish I had done that, since you ask — really thought through what would be important to me five, ten, and twenty years on — and then worked to make those things happen. Some goals I think are worthwhile: a home of your own; the education of your children, should God grant you children — the environment you want as they are growing up; a place to vacation, where the children will make good memories and have a lot of freedom; a good activity that you can all do that you really enjoy, in terms of recreation. (By education, I am not talking about saving for college, which I think is pointless for most people of modest means. I am talking about having a good home library, musical instruments, opportunities for interacting with interesting people, access to nature.)

6. Carve out some space for creativity. Use your ingenuity to make it happen where you are. Think about how your creativity can serve your future. If you are imagining a home filled with quilts or knit blankets… or your own paintings… or refinished furniture… see how you can make it happen.

 

7. Read. Now is when you have time to read about how to cook, how to clean, how to do those creative things, education, right thinking, gardening for that someday when you have a little plot to call your own or can access a community garden; frugality, so many things! Now is the time to read good novels and to get those 1000 Good Books under your belt so that you aren’t rushing when you suddenly need to get your children’s reading in order — and to get a start on the 100 Great Books so that you yourself can join the Great Conversation if you haven’t already.

 

8. Use Pinterest well. Does that sound frivolous? I firmly believe that it’s a great tool for the homemaker. Back in the day we cut out pictures we loved in magazines and kept them in a file. Now there’s Pinterest. I gave you tips for using it in this post about some decorating books I love. The internet is a boon for homemakers, as long as you don’t get caught up in perfect. You’ll be using it a lot as you seek answers to your questions, so keep a record of what you find interesting, helpful, and beautiful. Go back and edit often. Pay attention and it will really help you.

9. Remember, you can do a lot in an hour. You can do what you want to do and think should be done — especially if you are showered, have a plan for dinner, and have the laundry process under control (this one perhaps won’t be as much of an issue for you now, but cast a thought in its direction anyway).

You can also look at your hours and think about how to make them orderly, bringing time into contact with God’s inner life. This is liturgical living. Make your Sundays different, right from the start, and you will find everything else falls into place. Soon it will be Advent. Live it well, and everything else falls into place. That is the key.

10. What I mean by enjoy and you do what you want to do is something very mysterious: This week you don’t have sanctifying grace to participate in the life of Christ with your spouse — next week you will. It’s not up to Auntie Leila to do more than brush you off, set you on your feet, and give you a little push. You will run the race your way. And a marvelously unique and fabulous way it will be!

You are making your home — your contribution to the world, a great adventure! There are means, and you will discover what they are, because you are clever and have an inquiring mind. And those means will lead you to the end: nothing less than God’s kingdom.

{bits & pieces}

The weekly “little of this, little of that” feature here at Like Mother, Like Daughter!

 

 

 

Remember my post about living without air conditioning? There were a lot of comments on that one! But —  As I said then, even if you have AC and need to use it (and well do I know that some of you are broiling away), there are things you can do to be more comfortable and more efficient with it. And certainly here in New England — provided your house is built correctly and reasonably — you do not need AC!

This post gives helpful illustrations of what I was talking about. It explains that cooling is a “zone” and not a temperature point. Fans will help a lot — even with AC. And if you are building a house, you should click through some of the links embedded to see how to cool things down without profligate energy use. The sad fact is that most new houses are built with no consideration for the geography in which they are placed; a datum of significance, you would think. So vexing.

 

I love the idea of the commonplace book. I myself have tried keeping different notebooks at different times, and find now that good old index cards work best for me. What do you use?

This short post demystifies the concept (although in my post I suggest more than just quotes).


Ever see sand magnified 300 times? Fascinating.

(Here’s my post on what kind of microscope to get to see this sort of thing on a regular basis.)

 

Did you see this article about a way to nurse your baby that seems to be what he wants to do anyway, when left to himself? I always nursed my newborns this way (and all the other ways too), because then I got to lie down! And here is another really helpful one about “low milk supply (sic).”

Listen, take it from me — I’ve nursed seven babies — these articles are helpful. Don’t fret yourself about them; don’t worry if they don’t absolutely apply to your situation right now. Just read and file away.

If you are like us, you teach your children to obey reasonable and duly constituted authority but not to check their minds in at the door. We want them to be problem solvers. We assume that they will take responsibility for their actions and see the big picture — at least, that’s what we hope for once they reach maturity, and our responses to all the little events along the way are geared to that goal.

I think that the consequences of a different attitude are shown in this article by the acerbic Mark Steyn on a July 4th parade that went awry for no particular reason. And those consequences, while not decisive for any one day or place, nevertheless will take their toll on our liberty. If our kids were younger, I think I’d give them the facts of the piece, ask them what they’d do, and then after what I am sure would have been a lively discussion, read them what Steyn writes.


I’m really enjoying this blog from David Warren. If your head starts spinning with all the “must reads” out there, his voice will calm things down.


My husband, Phil Lawler, aka The Chief, has a little bits and pieces of his own to wind down his week of reporting and commenting on the news. I highly recommend checking it out. And be sure not to miss this “Modest Proposal” about sexual consent contracts.


I may have shared this, Our Only Option, from C. C. Pecknold, before, when it first came out, but maybe not. It’s worth another read. Pecknold insists, against the idea of retreating, per se: “Our families are going to need to live according to a rule if we are to endure—very much as religious orders do—with daily habits of prayer, confession, adoration, ingesting the Scriptures, emulating the great saints, learning to think with the doctors of the Church.”

Here’s the thing. It’s frustrating. We keep knowing we should do this, but not knowing how. That’s because we just don’t have the collective memory to do it.

That is why I wrote The Little Oratory, along with David Clayton (additional drawings by Deirdre!). So that when you read a spirited exhortation like this one, you know where to turn for practical help! Spoiler alert: It’s actually very simple — it’s living the Liturgical Year! So don’t be worried.

A very delightful feast of St. Benedict, Abbot, to you! This saint who changed the world will intercede for us in heaven, don’t worry!

~We’d like to be clear that, when we direct you to a site via one of our links, we’re not necessarily endorsing the whole site, but rather just referring you to the individual post in question (unless we state otherwise).~

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Habou’s Blog: Corner Art Studio.
Auntie Leila’s Pinterest.
Rosie’s Pinterest.
Sukie’s Pinterest.
Deirdre’s Pinterest.
Habou’s Pinterest.
Auntie Leila’s Ravelry.
Auntie Leila’s Instagram.
Rosie’s Instagram.
Sukie’s Instagram.
Bridget’s Instagram.

 

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

~ Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life ~

Every Thursday, here at Like Mother, Like Daughter!

{pretty, happy}

My sister-in-law found herself sitting on a runway in Oklahoma City when her flight to another city was diverted there to refuel because of storms. She texted us: “How far are you from here?” and when we offered to pick her up, she talked the flight attendants into rolling up a set of stairs, and she just hopped off the plane right there on the tarmac. How cool is that?

(No, I’m not nostalgic at all for pre-kid air travel. Why do you ask?)

And how fortunate for us — we don’t often have family just drop by with an hour’s notice. We could get used to it!

The kids are always ready to cooperate for a spontaneous family photo.

{funny}

Habou sent Pippo a big book about insects, which he has been poring over in ever such comfortable positions. He’s also been plying me with interesting facts about wasps and scorpions. (And goodness knows I love talking about bugs, especially scorpions. Thanks, Habou.)

I asked my handsome assistant to step in to provide some scale for this massive tomato plant growing in our kitchen box, because it’s proving very difficult to capture its size on camera. But it’s just one plant! The ones we planted in the actual garden got rather drowned in the flooding and are now only about a foot tall. But this one, which we unceremoniously plopped into the dirt, has turned into quite the monster.

I’m still hoping it might bear fruit for us, though so far no luck. Lots of blossoms, but they don’t seem to be amounting to much. I wonder if it’s just too hot? It seems otherwise happy, obviously.

{real}

(She’s trying to decide here what she thinks about firecrackers.)

We managed to make it through four and a half years of parenting without having to take a kid to the emergency room or urgent care, but our streak is emphatically over. In the last month, we’ve had a dislocated shoulder, a possible concussion, and a broken foot. To top it off, (and I’m sure this has nothing to do with all the time we’ve spent in doctors’ offices in the last few weeks) we’ve managed to pick up what the doctor told me is one case of strep throat and one of hand, foot, and mouth disease.

Oof.

It’s been quite a run. But I’d be ok if this were our last hurrah.

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Understanding children, special needs or not. The Miracle Worker in the Library Project

 

Title: The Miracle Worker: A Play

Author: William Gibson

File Under: Plays, Foundational, Child Development, Read-Aloud (and perform!), Education, Special Needs, Homeschooling

Age Group: From adolescence to old age

A work of art can convey truths in a way that no textbook ever can. If that art is based on, as they say, “a true story,” it can be even more compelling. The insight we gain is irreplaceable.

Yet, I would say that in our day-to-day life, especially when it comes to child-raising, we increasingly base our principles on textbooks, not on art or experience or even common sense. Textbooks (and studies, and scientific literature based on studies, and posts shared on Facebook) carry an air of authority, but often we forget to ask about the ontology of the conclusions presented.

In other words, we accept the findings of the experts, but we don’t inquire into their world view. What do they have in mind when they advise us on how to treat our children, difficult or otherwise? What do they know about what it means to be a human being — about human nature?

What are their goals? What is the picture they have in mind when they speak of “normal” or “appropriate” or “acceptable” or even just “possible” behavior?

What expectations do they have for the parents? What resources do they think that the parents have? Do they take into account their limitations?

Yes, my observation is that the experts view parents as very limited, but in a self-defeating way. They think that parents are hopelessly lacking in insight into their own children (which can often be true! But not fatally so!). But they utterly prescind from the question of virtue — of whether the parents have any, are seeking any, or even know that it matters.

When I was very young I read The Miracle Worker, saw the play, and watched the movie. And the story formed my attitudes about child-raising in general, although it’s about the blind, deaf, and mute Helen Keller, whom Annie Sullivan, a difficult and strong-willed young woman, rescues from a terrible fate — a life of being treated as less than human.

As you read, try to forget what you know about the important figure Keller was to become, and consider the point of view of the other family members. She was truly spoiled, as a result of the combination of her willful temperament, which was to stand her in good stead when channeled, and her family’s combined indulgence and dislike. She had seemingly overwhelming physical limitations. She was dirty (as mentioned in the play!). How hopeless it all seemed.

This short play presents in dramatic form much wisdom about the human condition, not least of which is that a person must have suffered in order to be of use to someone else who is suffering. Annie can help Helen because she has struggled with her own shortcomings — physical and moral — and the struggle has made her virtuous and wise, well beyond her years. Helen’s family cannot help her because they don’t struggle, not even against their helplessness, although they do pity and they do worry.

Literature, as so many before me have observed, offers us vicarious growth. (Thank goodness, as there is no way that any one person can undergo all the experiences necessary for acquiring all the virtues! Yet completely virtuous we must strive to be!)

So we ourselves undergo a moral transformation as we are offered in turn all the choices we can make, through the various characters in the play. As they do, we can feel paralyzed by our shortcomings and our uncertainty; we can merely pity; we can impatiently dismiss; we can have contempt.

We can do the worst thing of all, which is succumb to a kind of acedia: the apathy of not wishing to exert the energy necessary to turn to the good and change accordingly. Parents do often lose hope this way. We fail to act on what we know is good for our child.

The crux of the matter — as it is in the play — is reality.

Annie Sullivan must overcome the household’s despair to connect Helen with reality, against huge odds. But pay close attention as you read: The greatest obstacles she faces are not Helen’s physical handicaps. No, the obstacles are the other people, and that in their diverse weaknesses, no one has had the wisdom and courage to treat Helen as if they exist.

They have not given Helen any what we here at our house like to call reality feedback.

Don’t fail to notice that among other things, they think she’s too young!

Annie expresses this in terms of manners after her first encounter with Helen. Pay close attention to how manners connect with the very thing that restores Helen to her own humanity: finding meaning her connection with the world.

This lesson is one which every mother and father must internalize in order to do a good job raising children, because the whole task can be summed up as introducing the child, hopefully gradually and with firmness and affection, to the reality of the world outside them and the self-control to deal with it.

If we don’t embrace this task — including with the “special needs” child — we often find that we have consigned them to facing the task alone, later, with abruptness and often entailing what seems like cruelty from others (as when Annie isolates Helen from the family and their false pity).

Indeed, a whole category of literature deals with this very situation: that having been cheated of the curriculum of self-control in the school of virtue that the healthy family offers, the child must endure a painful rehabilitation at a later point.

I’d say most of us fall into this category! Which is why reading or watching this play can be so cathartic for us. It was for me!

What the story teaches us is that each child is unique and incomparable, with a spirit all his own, however buried under whatever we might characterize as handicaps; and that the whole adventure requires our own moral growth.

So you can see why having children is so good for us, assuming that we don’t settle for merely managing their behavior.

Which, alas, I fear is the tacit goal of many experts.

Had it not been for Annie and her virtue of fortitude, the world would have not received the gift of the extraordinary humanity of Helen Keller, with all her flaws and all her energy. And we would not have received the gift of a compelling lesson in overcoming our shortcomings for the sake of our children, because we would have no idea that this is the way to proceed.

So this is why I’m calling this book “foundational” — a book that you might spend time reading now, so that later you’ve internalized its message. Thus, this play is an excellent choice for your 6th to 8th grader who is a good reader but too young for the classics. What a study of human weaknesses and strengths! 

What is the Like Mother, Like Daughter Library Project?

{bits & pieces} (and a cloth diapering follow-up)

The weekly “little of this, little of that” feature here at Like Mother, Like Daughter!

Happy Independence Day!

 

Good news! My diaper issues are resolved for now. I know – that’s what was most on your mind this 4th of July.

I read all of your advice (yes, all those dozens of comments! thank you so much!) and tackled the laundry question.

So far the change that I have made is to wash with more water and to add Borax. I had already been doing hot water, yes, and already had been doing two rinses. But I realized that I could set the load to “extra large” and get more water into the mix; my normal instinct is to be as frugal as possible with water use, so it was good that you pointed this out to me. And I had been wondering whether Borax would be okay for the diapers and sensing, vaguely, that it might help, so I’m glad you brought that up, too. I honestly didn’t expect that we had hard water issues, since Manchester supposedly has very high quality water. But apparently that was part of it!

I didn’t really alter the amount of detergent that I use – I’ve done a little less and a little more on different loads (testing out some of the conflicting advice given), and I haven’t noticed yet that it makes a difference.

Crucially, there hasn’t been one leaky diaper since making these changes! Yay! All that cloth is also smelling a bit fresher, too.

Admiring some beautiful eggs our friend graciously shared from his family farm.

 

As for the logistics question, I’ve decided (after taking your input into account) that it works fine for me to just stow a few diapers aside, along with a makeshift changing pad (usually on our master bed) and wet bag, during Finnabee’s nap times and early bedtime. I think, after all, that I don’t need a full-blown second changing station.

But! Don’t sign off yet, cloth diapering experts! I have another question for you!

Those extra few diapers arrived – the BumGenius ones I mentioned that I had ordered with a gift card (I would have gotten Smartipants had they been an option). And now I’m wondering if I should go ahead and toss them in with my Smartipants batch or if I should decide to get hung up on the fact that they’re a different make. After you all talked laundering to such extent, it struck me that maybe I would prefer to have my diaper lot be as homogenous as possible for the purposes of streamlining the diaper routine; that maybe having the odd BumGenius diapers in there would throw off my laundry groove, as it were, and I’d later wish that I had just traded them for more Smartipants-s.

So what do you think? Look into trading my brand new, unopened BumGenius diapers for some more Smartipants diapers, or just toss them altogether and not give it another thought, trusting that they’ll all wash similarly enough? (They are all the same style: AIO/pocket insert.)(Part of me is curious just to try out the BumGenius ones.)

If I do decide to trade them, opinions on the best way to go about that?

And to answer some of your questions – in case it helps – I have a top loader washer in my kitchen; it is not HE; I don’t have space enough in my bathroom for a changing station (although that would be lovely, wouldn’t it!).

Thanks in advance for your thoughts!

 

On another note – switching gears here – the other night I made this tart.

I had some tomatoes that needed to get eaten, and it’s that time of year (like most times of year, really), when I miss France. This is the kind of thing that I seem to recall my host mother whipping up on most nights.

It’s just tomatoes and pesto, sprinkled with a little thyme, on a simple pie crust brushed with egg yolk. I added a touch of dried rosemary to the crust when I mixed it up, and found that it really did make a pleasant difference. Those of you with great memories may recall that I first tried this out three years ago.


And on to this week’s links!



 A few more thoughts on Obergefell:

Does it strike you as a bit much to keep going on about this topic? Are you of the opinion that it’d be better to move along with our lives and let others live theirs? Maybe obsessing about it strikes you as unseemly and those who do seem… unbalanced. Well, Mark Steyn writes here about the consequences of Going with the Flow.
One way that I’ve formulated this in my own mind is to recognize that “let’s just do our thing and let them do theirs” only works if it’s a two-way street. It would be quite naive to think that they (“they” being the powers and the money behind the movement, if not our immediate friends and acquaintances with whom we disagree) want to let us do things our way.
A sort of {b&p} within your {b&p}: Jurisimprudence from Essays in Idleness. An essay with some of its own valuable links included.

 Misc:

Auntie Leila approves this list of books for boys enough to intend to add it to her original Library Post.
For fans of Flannery O’Connor (I can’t say I number among you): Stamped but not Cancelled. According to my mother, “Flannery might not be amused. On the other hand, she usually got amusement out of such things, so maybe I’m wrong about that.”


From the Archives:


It’s not hard to process veggies for the freezer!
Ask Auntie Leila: “I don’t want to be ‘yelling, screaming, crazy mom.'”



Check out today’s Catholic Culture summary on Independence Day for some interesting links on Catholicism and the United States!


Have a great day celebrating today! God bless!


~We’d like to be clear that, when we direct you to a site via one of our links, we’re not necessarily endorsing the whole site, but rather just referring you to the individual post in question (unless we state otherwise).~

Follow us on Twitter.
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Habou’s Blog: Corner Art Studio.
Auntie Leila’s Pinterest.
Rosie’s Pinterest.
Sukie’s Pinterest.
Deirdre’s Pinterest.
Habou’s Pinterest.
Auntie Leila’s Ravelry.
Auntie Leila’s Instagram.
Rosie’s Instagram.
Sukie’s Instagram.
Bridget’s Instagram.

 

{pretty, happy, funny, real}

~ Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life ~

Every Thursday, here at Like Mother, Like Daughter!

{pretty}

I’m actually not a huge fan of radishes, and being proud of them in the garden (as one is, regardless) reminds me of a passage in C. S. Lewis’ The Pilgrim’s Regress. Mr. Sensible — a man who has no need for religion —  claims to be self-sufficient and to live the good life; but his table is nearly all provided for from the munificence of other, more generous souls.

“Good morning, Drudge,” said John [for of course, Mr. Sensible has a down-trodden servant, though he claims to do all himself]. “What are you making?” “Radish beds, sir.” “Your master is a great gardener.” “Talks about it, sir.” “Does he not work in the garden himself?” “No, sir.” “It is a poor soil here.” “Does he manage to feed himself on his own produce in a good year?” “Feeds me on it, sir.” “What does the garden grow–besides radishes?” “Nothing, sir.”

But they are pretty, and nice to see when the other veggies are lagging.

{funny}

So we inherited a gazebo that is rather a funny structure. You can’t really see in this picture (or maybe you can), but it tilts a bit, as the leach field* was built right up against it — perhaps the backhoe gave it a little nudge at some point in the construction process.

 

It’s one of those things that is too sturdy to knock down but not really quite right enough to leave up. I’d love to redo the roof of it to be more romantic, or at least give it a shove from the other direction, but somehow I think that it’s just going to stay the way it is. Projects like this tend to be more brilliant in one’s mind — and higher up on the priority list — than in real life. I suppose if I were a real blogger I’d give it a fabulous re-do, huh? There are two vines planted out there that we have hopes of someday climbing up over the top, and maybe that will redeem us all somewhat.

Bridget did paint it two years ago, so there’s that.

The hammock is a gift from a friend quite a while ago. We don’t have two trees in good proximity to each other (at least, not where you’d want to relax, unless poison ivy, mosquitos, and prickly brambles sound relaxing to you).

And the hammock stand that we have somewhere in the garage isn’t quite long enough, because this is a Nicaraguan hammock, not an American hammock. Plus, I was told in no uncertain Spanish-accented tones not to leave it out in the rain.

Finally this year as I felt it mocking me from the depths of the garage (AKA “the garage of death”), a light dawned on me from on high.

We do have a gazebo! However wonky! Maybe, just maybe, it would fit in there!

 

 

{real}

This is what my pantry/studio looks like at present, as scraps fly in every direction. Soon I will tidy it up.

 

{happy}

I promised pics of the garden so here you go.

An actual eggplant. Representative of actual eggplants on all the eggplant plants. My determination not to crowd things in the beds seems to be paying off.

 

Beans. I have, with trepidation, removed the chicken-wire from the top of the bean bed. I am hoping that the plants’ robustness will now thwart the bunnies, which are legion. (The cat and the dog mainly stare at each other. Rarely and only with prompting do they chase a bunny, the free-loaders.)

Now, to me, these beds are all weeded. Before the festivities on the Fourth they will be weed-wacked (again) around the edges to hold down the garlic chives. So just go easy on me here.

By the way, someone left a comment that I cannot find anywhere, as to the paths between the beds. So, confidential to my dear unknown reader: The paths have weed cloth and are covered in wood chips. Over the years the wood chips do disintegrate and then weeds grow, because weeds grow here like, well, you know. Bridget hacked out all the weeds and then we laid down more chips. So for now, they are pretty good! (By my standards, which are, admittedly, low.)

Peppers! And tomatoes!

 

Soon this bed, below, will be taken over by those zucchinis (and the radishes will be done!) (and we can put the peas behind us, because they were a bust):

 

 

These cosmos plants, below, were volunteers in other beds, so I put them here by the compost bins. And then the gladioli from last year sprang up!

 

 

 

The basil is doing very well, both in the herb garden by the door and in the bed pictured up above that (contrary to my proclaimed intention) has lettuce, tomatoes, parsley, and basil (fourth garden picture). That makes me happy!

 

Thank you for bearing with me on this little tour of part of my garden! You are so kind. I do love it so, so much, modest though it be. And weedy.

_________

*If you don’t know what a leach field is, you don’t live in the country, and your party conversation must be difficult to keep up. What do people talk about, if not septic systems?

 

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Doings around here.

This Supreme Court decision has knocked a lot of the normal thoughts of a blogging nature that I usually have right out. So I can’t say that I have anything profoundly interesting to comment on, but I thought I’d say hi here today on a Tuesday anyway.

I’ve been trying to catch up on some of those grandbaby quilts that I need to materialize (

 

The garden is hitting its stride. Probably Thursday I’ll have many more pictures of that to show you.

It does me good to just get out there and pull weeds, move things around, and water. Habou has been working hard on the flowers, too. It’s all made easier by Bridget there in the background, doing the heavy-duty weeding and hauling. I highly recommend getting yourself, in your old age, at least one willing child who is garden-minded. What I will do when she leaves I don’t know…

Of an evening, as we are sitting together in the den, Bridget has been reading Leave It to Psmith out loud — so hilarious.

And while she reads (and this is probably not a great idea and accounts for some of my difficulty), I’ve been trying to figure out a toe-up sock. I have literally no idea whether it’s going to turn out all right or not! And I’ve already turned the heel.

Do you think this colorway is masculine at all? Because I think the socks will be big.

 

{bits & pieces}

Shall we take a wee spin through the garden?

Coming along… Just after this I tied the tomatoes to their stakes/fencing — so satisfying. The eggplants are bearing little fruits! But they need to be watered. The birds are eating the raspberries, having had their fill of strawberries. Where is a cost-effective place to get the netting??

Bridget is working off her college education by doing heavy-duty yard work. It’s no joke to weed this hill. Wears me out in about a half-hour. She’s a trouper though… One day maybe the daylilies will triumph over the brambles.

I thwarted the bunnies with my make-shift fencing. Double rows of those little ineffective wire fences and a chicken fencing laid on top. Ha! (Not sure what I’ll do when these beans start bearing, which will be fairly soon.)

 

 

On to the links!

Dear Anne brought to my attention a singular recording of Allegri’s Miserere by a talented artist, Stacey Jackson, who turns out to be a classmate of Deirdre’s from Catholic University of America. You can read about this polyphonic chant here — it’s meant for the service of Tenebrae, during Holy Week, which of course makes this post somewhat out of season, but I couldn’t resist letting you enjoy it. (And actually, maybe we do need to dwell on the need for God’s mercy!)


The amazing thing is that all the parts are sung by Stacey! Considering the range involved, including the soprano part that soars above the rest in a manner usually best suited to a treble in a boys’ choir, her recording is quite a feat! It’s really beautiful.

 

Another game that your kids could play instead of drilling: Periodic Table of the Elements Battleship. (The very best thing about going to school is the incredible feeling of freedom when it’s over. Somehow, sometime, you need to give your kids this feeling. And if they happen, on those long, lazy days (after chores!) to play games that increase their skills, well, that’s not your fault!)


We need this chart to be laminated and posted somewhere prominent. Second cousins? Twice removed? I can’t tell you the arguments we’ve had about what the relationships in families are called. It’s the one conversation I just want to end. Now. Makes me crazy.


Bagpipes are a weapon of war; certainly, Bill Millin seems to have used his pipes to great effect in WWII. “The use of bagpipes was restricted to rear areas by the time of the Second World War by the British Army. Lovat, nevertheless, ignored these orders and ordered Millin, then aged 21, to play. When Private Millin demurred, citing the regulations, he recalled later, Lord Lovat replied: ‘Ah, but that’s the English War Office. You and I are both Scottish, and that doesn’t apply.’ ” 


You can tell she’s deep into this Mom gig: Rosie is on the Lego issue: Cambridge University (yes, that Cambridge University) is establishing a Lego professorship.

On yesterday’s Supreme Court ruling:

The Supreme Court found a right to abort a child in the penumbra of an emanation more than 40 years ago. So let’s not be surprised by yesterday’s ruling finding a right to marry beyond the stars. However, let’s do educate ourselves as to why the ruling is wrong.


If you don’t really think it’s wrong, I understand — but I think that if you look into it more, you will change your mind. I recommend beginning with this article, Why Same-Sex Couples Possess No Conjugal Rights, which focuses on a well documented section of this book: What Is Marriage?: Man and Woman: A Defense.


We must grasp is that marriage has a purpose, and that purpose is grounded in the physical reality of man and woman. Historically, marriage has not been ruled invalid if the couple could not conceive — but it has been if the couple could not have conjugal relations. Our own present day’s somewhat… eclectic… view of what constitutes sexual relations might obscure this simple fact. But its importance can’t be overstated. On the other hand, society always, until recently, understood conjugal relations to be procreative, and perhaps that is the root of what we are seeing now: the fruits, or rather withered fruits, of our own abdication of responsibility. 


“The joining of husband and wife by matrimony is the greatest of all joinings, since it is a joining of soul and body, wherefore it is called a ‘conjugal’ union.” – St. Thomas Aquinas


For your super-long, super philosophical reading: The Road to Same Sex Marriage was Paved by Rousseau, by Robert Reilly. (Read his book Making Gay Okay: How Rationalizing Homosexual Behavior Is Changing Everything.) “Rousseau described the accomplishment of this condition: ‘Each person would then be completely independent of all his fellowmen, and absolutely dependent upon the state.’ The state could restore a simulacrum of that original well-being by removing all of man’s subsidiary social relationships. By destroying man’s familial, social, and political ties, the state could make each individual totally dependent on the state and independent of each other. The state is the vehicle for bringing people together so they can be apart: a sort of radical individualism under state sponsorship.”

For a quick round-up of articles I found helpful yesterday in thinking things through:

Why Catholics (or any Bible-believing person) can never accept gay marriage, from Ed Peters, canon lawyer.


The deeply emotional — and completely irrational — ruling that establishes a religion incompatible with Christianity, by David French, quickly becoming one of my favorite columnists.


Dissent is the highest form of bigotry (thoughts on the immediate announcement from a newspaper in Pennsylvania that they would not be publishing anti-gay-marriage letters) – a must-read.


Ross Douthat on some of the ways this ruling was prepared for by ordinary Americans getting comfortable with their own compromises with the institution in question.

When the weight of current events feels crushing, remember one thing that shouldn’t surprise you: The antidote to what is huge, overpowering, and violent is that which is small, meek, and humble. In this case, the remedy is found in the heart of your home. Your own prayer, the prayer of your family, the life you live in union with the Church — will save the world.

Don’t forget to get your copy of The Little Oratory by yours truly and David Clayton (with additional drawings by Deirdre!) so that you can get started now with your simple, beautiful, and peaceful prayer life at home. Our book teaches you exactly what to do — not only to make your Little Oratory, but to pray in union with the Church’s own liturgical life.


If you have a Little Oratory, prayer corner, home altar, or icon corner already, do be sure to share it on our “Your Little Oratory” page! We would love to see it!

The home becomes a sanctuary where we can meet with friends and say what’s really on our minds. The home opens out to the larger community and becomes a real force for good. The less welcome we feel to express our true thoughts in the larger arena, the more important it becomes to cultivate those “in real life,” open, and free conversations.

That is the idea behind the St. Gregory Pockets. While you might discuss a book, it’s not a book club. It’s the makings of a real community of people who enjoy each other, find friends for their kids, and help each other. Could you start a St. Greg’s Pocket where you are? Is there one you could join? Find out.

St. Cyril of Alexandria, you who defended the two natures of Jesus Christ, human and divine, and His one Personhood; and His mother as the Mother of the Whole Christ — Mother of God — pray for us!

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{pretty, happy, funny, real}

~ Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life ~

Every Thursday, here at Like Mother, Like Daughter!

{pretty}

I realized that the girls have almost-matching pink smocked dresses, so of course they had to wear them to Mass. And of course we had to take some pictures.

{happy}

We didn’t ever even get a kiddie pool last year because of the dire drought water restrictions (something along the lines of, “if we catch you using water outside, we will claim your first-born.”), but since all those storms left us a little wiggle room in the water department, we are back in business for backyard splashing. It sure is nice!

We also are sporting tremendously kissable cheeks and satisfyingly numerous chins. (Sorry for the angle, sweetheart. Mama loves you.)

And yes, he’s totally dumping a load of dirt into the pool while I’m taking this photo. I did notice that eventually.

{funny}

Just chillin.

Pippo got to go to our church’s Catholic Vacation Bible School this year, and had a blast. It was a little tricky to get a coherent account from him of what they did and learned, but he did come home each day with several art projects and a full report on what they had eaten for snack (including, but not limited to, pudding cups, some sort of exciting snack mix, and a concoction involving blue cool whip, cake, and sprinkles. Let’s just say these weren’t exactly Michelle Obama-approved school lunches. He found them exhilarating.)

The night before his last day, I suggested he write his teacher a thank-you note. He stuck with the essentials: “Dear Mrs. Lusica. Thank you for the good snacks at church camp. Love Pippo.”

Dear Mrs. Lusica, I know you were a wonderful and patient teacher to all those sweet little children, and I know you taught them many things about God’s creation. Thank you for all those things. And thank you especially for the snacks. Love, Rosie

{real}

No, Mom, I have a better idea. How about you tuck in my bunny and my baby doll. Oh, and my sippy cup, too. I’ll sit over here and supervise. It won’t be frustrating at all.

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A quick (in all senses) birth story

I thought it was about time that I get on here – {pretty, happy, real weddings} and {bits & pieces} aside – just to say hi and give you an updated glimpse of my little man. (As for the latest {b&p} – thank you for all that advice re: cloth diapering! I had a feeling you would come through for me. I have been studying all your suggestions!)

Thank you all so much for your well wishes and excitement upon his arrival! It certainly was an exciting arrival.

Little Eamon is two months old today. I got a bit mixed up about his age recently and told some friends that he was 8 weeks when he was actually just 7. I later felt a little relieved that time isn’t flying by at quite the ridiculously intense rate that I was thinking it was. Just a moderately ridiculously intense rate, it turns out.

As some of you mentioned you’d like to hear the birth story from my perspective, here’s a bit of a review of that morning as I recall it.

Basically, for whatever mysterious combination of reasons, all of my warm-up labor was just very subtle and happened mostly overnight. So subtle, in fact, that I became fully aware of it only in hindsight. It was aided by an herbal tincture, provided by my midwife, that turned out to have a very strong effect on me!

6am – I woke up knowing that my body was in action, knowing that this would be The Day. I decided to take a shower and get myself ready for what I assumed would be a long, tiring workout. I took another dose of the aforementioned tincture.

7am – After a long, relaxing shower, during which I frequently leaned against the wall to breathe through surges, I got myself dressed and headed down for breakfast.

7:30am – Having finished a small breakfast and checked my email and Facebook (just to get that out of the way as more preparation for my Big Day), I realized that I wasn’t feeling responsive while Habou was chatting with me. I decided I should go upstairs to be by myself and focus.

8am – The Artist and the others having arrived home from morning Mass, I decided to check in with him to let him know I’d like his company while I tried to relax through what I felt was early labor. He said he’d just have some quick breakfast and come upstairs to join me, which sounded good to me. I went back up and lay down on the bed.

8:15am – Called the midwife and told her I was in labor. Only fully acknowledged the fact once I said it aloud. She must have heard something in my voice because she knew instinctively to step on it, and was in her car a matter of moments later.

8:16am – Phoned downstairs to request a glass of water.

8:17am – My mom came up with a glass of water and I burst into tears, not understanding why (later, Suki said, “Oh, so you cried because you were in transition.” Apparently.).

8:18am – Released a bellow. Heard myself release said bellow and thought, “oh wow, I recognize that sound. That is the sound that I made when I was in full-on labor the last time.” I didn’t feel it; I heard it. That sense of being in a sound and realizing that the sound is coming from oneself.

The Artist appeared, having also heard this sound and recognized its meaning.

{here follows a period of confusion, of groaning and of roaring, during which I was completely alert and never in much pain, but certainly in a state of massive surprise and a few moments of panic. Should we draw a bath? Is this the real thing? Do I need to use the toilet? [no really – very confused on that front] Maybe a bath would help me relax? But mom I don’t think I can get in the bath? But Deirdre maybe it would help you relax? The Artist thinks we really should go to the bed and not be in the bathroom. But can I move right now I’m not sure? Oh my oh my oh my that is the head right there. GET CINDY ON THE PHONE MOM CALL CINDY CALL CINDY And that is my water breaking and that is his head. Whoa whoa whoa whoa just get over to the bed okay I can do this yes let’s go over to the bed that sounds good towel Cindy’s on speakerphone lie down breathe deep breaths okay I can do this this is happening Cindy is not going to make it in time okay okay John get warm washcloths okay Deirdre breathe deep breaths for your baby okay this is happening right now this is happening right now}

9:02am (or something like that. None of us is 100% sure of the exact time of birth) – My darling Eamon is born into his grandmother’s capable hands.

 

 

When the Artist ran downstairs to say “It’s a boy!” Habou had no idea what he was talking about.

Later I said I thought it was two pushes. The Artist corrected me and said it was more like seven.

In a way I think that it was more intense for my mom and The Artist, because they were there with me and had to figure out what to do and how to cope. They were quick on their feet while doing their best to comfort me and not panic. I, on the other hand, had a straightforward job to do… a job that was more going to do itself to me than that I was going to do. It was just happening.

It just happened.

And now we’re settled in back home, with a little boy getting bigger every day, very much in love.

He is spoiling me. He is the sweetest little boy I’ve ever known. You may recall that Molly was Rosie’s Angel Baby. Turns out that Eamon is mine.

 

Last week, The Artist and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary with two little muffins. So blessed.

Had to enjoy the quilt from Habipti with some matching chevron!

And now, dear readers, it’s my plan to switch over to referring to this little guy by his prenatal nickname “Peabodee.” And you’ll be seeing less of him (and his big sister) on here, in general.

Maybe sometime I’ll sit down and articulate all our reasons for being reticent with kiddo pictures and updates. In the meantime, I hope you know that it’s not for any lack of appreciation of the kindness and friendliness that you shower on us via your reading and commenting! There is a very big part of me that would like to share a daily update on these two munchkins, using their real names (I happen to think they’re quite bright and pretty cute and that they have great names), but for now I think it’s best for us if I keep them out of the LMLD “limelight.”

Lots of love from the Chesternest!