My Men

Weston and Daddy are spending a lot of time together these days while Mommy is in rehearsal.  Dave's squeezing in sound design notes and managing most of the boys needs.  I struggled again with sleep and a SUPER dry throat from my antibiotics last night, so Dave kindly let me have a half hour nap on lunch break.

I'm so glad I froze some extra cookie batter from the other night.  There's nothing like a hot fresh cookie right after supper to help with the clean plate club.  Dave made a tasty tomato sauce with Italian sausage for supper out of our own toms.  

There's something quite remarkable about Weston.  When he's on his own, without big brother around, he often turns into a good little helper.  The other day he and David were out in the crisp fall air raking leaves and burning them on the fire.  Weston helped drag around the old electric mower like he was running it, but he also helped Dave with small tasks for about and hour and half!  He likes outdoor adventure and completing tasks, and although he may complain at first, once he gets started on a job, he works hard.  I so grateful to have these men in my life Little and Tall.  They give to me and I need it, especially right now.

Donovan got to read a bit more for me tonight and he did a lot of work on his spelling.  I was grateful we could skip the movie idea tonight and stick to reading stories.  The Narnia film was so powerful over the last three days, I think we'll be contemplating it for a another week.

I struggled with finding my voice this morning with the dry dustiness of the theatre and my lack of sleep.  I will endeavor to get to bed earlier this evening as I am now finished with my outside commitments for the week. (In other words, no more night coachings or scrambling to finish and talk through the Greek class syllabus with David late at night!!) Both Weston and Donovan are recovering from a cold, and I'm a little raspy... oh dear.

May my tomorrow be positive and risky, transparent and strong.  May my voice soar to the heavens with the freedom I crave for my own spirit in times of lonely expression.  Nine days to opening...

Way of the Cross

This coil of barbed wire makes me think of the crown of thorns.  A mockery of the victory wreath.  A King of pain and sorrows.  Following Christ, being aligned with him, means stepping into the path of suffering.  Of sacrifice, and crude disrespect.  Not being able to see justice in this lifetime, perhaps.  I will always chafe against that.  That is the crossroads of whether I have faith or not.  When it really comes down to it, will I choose the path that Jesus trod, because it is right?  Or will I just spare my body and avoid the shame?  My whole life is a series of small choices (some good, some not) but I take with me all I've learned as I head toward greater courage and discernment for the next crossroads.  The next road of cross.  Where in my heart of hearts, only He and I will decide which path is mine to take.

In the meantime, I enjoy each little thing and am surprised by the cloud patterns over the Inn, the seed pods of grass, the lilac of the dawn and the golden glow of sun.  All is quiet and here is where peace must be stored for a time a panic to come.

This is Canadian Thanksgiving weekend.  I love that I get to celebrate two Thanksgivings every year.  I think we will lie low and have casual, unplanned fun -- like spontaneous stories and kid charades.  I long to make pie (STILL, I know) and Dave will want his sweet potatoes.  He's not feeling well right now.  You can see it in his face.  He lacks color and verve.  Hopefully this weekend of rest and connection will fill him up and heal him too.

Weston has been such a helper recently.  I really see the organizer spirit in him.  Classic Gold personality!  Wow.  He not only loves to do a task his way, he wants to stick with it till it's done!  Hallelu!  We've canned 14 jars of tomatoes now and next week we'll do some more.  I'll blog on that later when I get some pics.