Archives for March 2010

Playing Favorites

I’ve been thinking a lot about travel and home and the places that take root in our lives.  Lisa Jo at the Gypsy Mama posted some of her favorite places in the world, and offered for others to link up.  So here I am, sharing my most loved places, which I hope will soon include our new home in Zurich.

Along the canal in Bruges, Belgium
Barnes Pond, London England

The Serpentine, Hyde Park, London England

The flower lined brick path leading to my front door

My Summer yard

The picket fenced path leading to the ocean
Ocean City, NJ
Take a moment to pop in at the Gypsy Mama and have a look around at one well traveled mama’s blog.  
Back soon,
Kimberly

Sweat and Sanity

I miss this little patch of space.  I wish I could pop in more often and clear the head a bit, but that’s not likely to happen for a few more weeks.  The house is topsy turvy, and we are days away from the arrival of the shipping company.  Then the goodbye’s begin.

I’m trying not to think about it too much. 
In the meantime, as we inventory and fill out forms and make last appointments, I’ve been sneaking in daily runs.  It’s a bit indulgent when time and energy are in short supply.  I’ve been foregoing the treadmill and hitting one of my old marathon training routes.  It smells of sweat and sanity.  It feels like freedom.
This week I’ve noticed the starkness of winter being softened by birdsong and buds, and I feel a softening, a birthing in me as well.  
Photo: London, Spring 2009
I’d love to hear what spring is birthing in you.
Kimberly

Please pass the Xanax

Next week is our last “normal” week at home before the movers come to pack.  Nothing here feels normal at the moment.  There are boxes and new furniture squeezed into every corner of the house.  Michael, ever the ambitious handy man, has ripped the upstairs bathroom down to the studs. There’s dirt and grime on every surface. No, normal it is not.  For goodness sake, my daughter has a toilet sitting in her bedroom.

I am spending most days sorting through things, deciding what will go to long term storage, what will be shipped by air (my own pillows, please), and what can be shipped by sea.  Although I’m not responsible for packing, there are many logistics to consider.  I met with a man from the shipping company a few days ago to discuss.  I shall refer to him as Big Haired Mover.

Big Haired Mover tried to explain how much would fit into this container, or that one.  I failed to mention that I am extremely spatially challenged (um, hello, I can’t parallel park), and instead nodded my head politely as if I understood what he was saying. I did not.  Who can be expected to know what 1500 lbs looks like, Mr. Big Haired Mover?

As if this weren’t enough excitement, in another brilliant move, I decided to have some sun spots lasered off of my face.  MY FACE!!!  I now look like I have a flesh eating disease, and am contemplating wearing a ski mask to our going away party.  Not my best decision.

Oh well.  Life is a series of good and not so good decisions.  I’m making the best of it.  Toilets, leprosy-like sores and all.

Kimberly

Before I hit the ground running

Regardless of the craziness and chaos that is my home right now, I find myself looking for little moments of beauty.  This morning I see it in a small stack of colorful catalogs and books on the coffee table.  I don’t have time to enjoy them, but just seeing them there makes me smile.

I find it in the cheerful chatter of an early riser just outside my bay window.  Morning song… I let it sink in before my own three early risers make an appearance.

And this, from the book of Hosea in The Message translation, “On the very same day, I’ll answer” –This is God’s message– “I’ll answer the Sky, Sky will answer Earth, Earth will answer grain and wind and olive oil, and they’ll all answer Jezreel.  I’ll plant her in the good earth.  I’ll have mercy on No-Mercy.  I’ll say to Nobody, ‘You’re my Somebody’ and he’ll say ‘You’re my God'”.

Beauty is in His answer.  It’s in the God who plants me in the good earth and shows mercy and calls me Somebody.  That is more than enough.

Clarity

I am preoccupied with the big stuff right now.  The big things tend to jostle around and jockey for position over the little things.  The little stuff becomes hazy around the edges.

When I do get a moment to clear my head, I find that those little things begin to rise like cream to the surface.  They have been stored there all along, just waiting to be noticed.  They whisper a small “look at me, don’t forget me, remember…”

Remember Michael watching Sophie twirl in the kitchen, the color in her cheeks rising with her pink tulle dress as it floats and kisses the air around her waist.  Look at me….

Remember Ethan’s front teeth, criss crossed and wobbly.  He waits and wiggles and sighs.  Until they fall,  apples are replaced with applesauce, and he counts the ways he will spend the money beneath his pillow.  Don’t forget me....

Remember Rachel, with her mother hen ways.  Remember the weight of her hair and how it falls like a cape around her shoulders.  The spring sun makes her glow.  She is all softness and light and calm. Remember….

Today, I’m letting the little moments eclipse the big ones.  Join me over at Chatting at the Sky as we unwrap the daily gifts that quietly beg to be noticed.